SHARKEISHA, NO, NO, NO!

She’s one of the most googled people on the net and shockingly so, it only took her a week to become a sensation.  The worst thing is that she is not famous but rather infamous…all due to her visiting violence upon another person.

Sharkeisha, no.

I will be honest: I had only seen the deplorable video yesterday. I didn’t even know what a Sharkeisha was until then.  All I knew was that my Facebook friends were constantly making comments about Sharkeisha…how they might have to go Sharkeisha on Black Friday, etc.  I knew it had to be about a person but her name became a verb simultaneously and apparently a symbol of going “hard” being “tough” and fighting. Before I saw the video, I googled the name and received a hit from the Urban Dictionary (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Sharkeisha) which defined the name as: Char • kee • shuh ) Verb. 1. To Punch The Soul From Another Being's Body. Still I didn’t know what or who Sharkeisha was.  I resolved that maybe it was someone from one of  the reality television shows like Love and Hip Hop, who had gotten into an altercation that became a sensation.  I resolved not to care because I typically don’t entertain those kinds of shows anyhow.

However, when my cousin who was visiting from DC, asked me had I seen the video, I took a peek out of sheer curiosity.  I will not post any links to it here because I was utterly disturbed by what I had witnessed: two young black girls involved in a one sided altercation.  I say one sided because Sharkeisha did all the fighting while someone who obviously has no respect for themselves, their community, or simply doesn’t give a damn, stood by and filmed the ridiculousness.  Simply out for her fifteen minutes of fame, the “friend” only slightly raised her voice to say “Sharkeisha, No!” when she noticed that the assault went from a sucker punch to subsequent punching and lastly a kick to the face of the victim.  Brutality in its greatest proportions for all the world to see.

Sharkeisha, no!Girl with the cellphone camera, NO!

No to the violence first off but no to another woman of color shown in a negative light! No, to another young sister glorifying a stereotype, and no, to immaturity at its finest hour. Lastly, a big HELL NO to a lost generation that does not know their history or the consequences of their actions.

Street fights happen everywhere and much more often in worse magnitudes than what Sharkeisha did to her victim.  However, what I still cannot understand is that even in 2013, the worst images of African-American women still permeate mass and social media.  Even as we have the first African-American First Lady in the White House, an African-American Woman Millionaire who was able to reach across all color lines through her part in the media (Oprah), and countless other powerful and educated women of color making a difference more than ever before, our popularity rests in how brutal we can be, how oversexed we supposedly are, how poor and uneducated we can be, and how well we fit the stereotypes that have been pinned on us for over 500 years.

Sharkeisha and Girl with the cellphone camera…no. The video that was made wasn’t just your fifteen minutes of fame; it was a sell out of your people and now being used as a propaganda device to confirm that black girls are wild and vicious.  Please remember  those that came before you and the struggles they faced fighting so you may even exist.  Lastly, a word on morality; please handle your affairs in private…like a lady.

The Sharkeisha incident is only one of many videos of African-American girls fighting that has been floating on the internet.  However, why are we as a collective community of all races encouraging dysfunction? I will not use this young sister’s name to describe any kind of rage I am feeling; not only is it wrong, she has not become objectified as a thing rather than a person, repeating a vicious cycle that all women, but especially women of color have to deal with everyday of their lives.   However, they only exist because we watch.  Ghandi said “No one can hurt me without my permission.” I believe this is true. The mass and social media outlets can only hurt us if we continue to buy into what we are being fed about ourselves and if we do not do more to control what is being put out there. My thoughts on this: IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SPEAK UP! And let us encourage sisterhood!!!

Women of color it’s time to make a bigger noise about how we are portrayed. To the girl in the video who was victimized, stand up!

Sisterhood

I long for sisterhood.  Sisterhood that extends across economic classes, skin tones, languages, cultures, ideas, backgrounds, and lineages.  I know it may be asking a lot; people have different personalities and view points but, wouldn't it be fantastic?

I long for it the most among my "Sistas".  The lack of sisterhood among my Sista's is so apparent. The saddest part is that millions are made off of our lack of concern for each other.  Take for example the various shows like Love and Hip Hop, or The Real Housewives of Atlanta...both shows that showcase us behaving badly.  These shows punctuate the already preconceived stereotypes that even with money, black women can't get along...no matter what we do or have we will only behave in the ways that suit the Jezebel or scandoulous woman.

It is sad to me and maddening when I open my mouth to speak and it is just me and one other "Sista" in the room and I am told that I sound "white" because I am speaking proper English and in and educated fashion. 

It annoys me when a "Sista" tries to shame me because I am wearing my hair relaxed and she wears her natural. It hurts me when my "Sistas" can't seem share in each other's successes without trying to tear the other one down.

I don't understand. Aren't we better than that? Didn't we come up with this whole "Sista" thing? Why can we not exemplify it?

Rise up my SISTA'S. Let us redefine what we started by truly being what we are: beautiful, loyal, smart, strong, and confident women who uplift each other. Would you treat your sister any less?

Dressing for Success

Normally I write about more pressing issues, but today I felt like writing about my second love which is fashion.  I am a firm believer that as the seasons change, we may also be changing our minds about life, and the direction we're going in. This change can be a new endeavor, a new relationship, or even a new job. However, in order to make this change we have not only got to change our mindset and attitudes but other pieces as well. One of the ways that I have found it easier to set my focus, is to change my clothes and style. I know what you're thinking; clothes don't make the man (or woman in this case). But if TLC's What Not To Wear has taught me anything, it's that clothes are an extension of yourself. How you present yourself in the world not only affects how others perceive you but can have an overall affect on your mood and well being. This is why it is important to pay attention to the way you are dressing yourself. Do you sometimes start the day off feeling depressed? Some of us do and yes it may be because you have a crappy job and are not where you want to be. I'm not going to say that changing jobs is a piece of cake but I will say that you can make the best out of your situation. Pay attention to the colors you're wearing: are you someone who is constantly wearing dark hues? This could be contributing to your depression or anxiety! By throwing a pop of color in your outfit, you attitude could improve significantly. Go on and wear that turquoise scarf with those camel or brown pants or pair a little yellow with red! Get your green and purple on!

 If the job is what's got you down, as the saying goes "Dress for the job that you want, not the job that you have." Pay attention to the shape of the clothing that your pick. Is it frumpy or does it play to your curves? What about the fabric? Is it stiff or flowing? Can the hem be taken in or up? Checking simple things like this can make a world full of difference in your outlook; if you feel comfortable in your clothing you will feel more comfortable with anything that comes your way. The same thing goes for break-ups, break downs, bad days, etc. Try a new shade on, pull out that dress that you've been wanting to wear. Try a fun, flirty coral shade for your lips or smoky eyes. Just experiment and watch your perception change to positive thoughts!

Dressing for success doesn't have to be expensive. Look for the bargains! Shopping online is also a great tool for bargain hunting. I highly recommend www.polyvore.com , www.the15dollarstore.com and www.justfab.com for great deals. Below is a collage that I put together for my blog BadVictorian on some snazzy piece pairings:

Dress for Success by alonna-carter featuring a one-button blazer

Balmain silk shirt
mytheresa.com

Dsquared2 blazer
thecorner.com

Blue boyfriend blazer
amazon.com

NIC ZOE knit biker jacket
nicandzoe.com

Trench coat
feeluxury.com

Burberry brown wool coat
stylebop.com

Vero Moda one button blazer
$41 - veromoda.com

Lined jacket
bodycentral.com

Chloé pleated pants
mytheresa.com

Balmain back zip pants
net-a-porter.com

Peplum skirt
$33 - frenchconnection.com

Warehouse body con pencil skirt
$40 - warehouse.co.uk

Plaid trousers
maurices.com

Juicy Couture evening handbag
juicycouture.com

MICHAEL Michael Kors shoulder tote bag
lordandtaylor.com

Francesco Biasia handbag
forzieri.com

Bracelet charm
$9.70 - newlook.com

Susan Caplan Vintage vintage earrings
$265 - johnlewis.com

Forever 21 faux pearl bracelet
forever21.com

Miss Selfridge necklace
missselfridge.com

John & Pearl triangle earrings
$47 - wolfandbadger.com

Just Female metal jewelry
$32 - nelly.com

Vero Moda wrap shawl
$24 - houseoffraser.co.uk

Fat Face crochet scarve
$32 - fatface.com

Lastly celebrate you! Part of dressing for success, is dressing our minds in beauty. Think about the wonderful and unique person you are. Look at your accomplishments and learn from your setbacks. Keep the future in focus and enjoy the beautiful life you have!

Online Dating Etiquette

It's cuffing season...or so says everyone that I know.  I look to my left and my right and suddenly everyone is booed up or getting married.  Meanwhile, I'm again just coasting.

I like being single for the most part, but of course I will admit that this cold weather kicking in is making me wish I had a cuddle buddy.  However, finding one the old fashioned way (bumping into Sexy Joe at the gym, coffee shop, bar etc), just doesn't happen for me. I don't know if its because interested parties are shy or I'm giving off a weird vibe (thinks...). I'm not necessarily wanting a boyfriend ASAP but when I do go looking sometimes, I use the Internet.

It is not a strange thing for me as an modern black woman with an old fashioned attitude, to go looking somewhere like the Internet.  I am nowhere new to the practice...I mean I grew up in the age of computers; my generation being the first to really grasp this whole Internet biz. So I feel comfortable with it.  In fact, the longest relationship I've had to date was with someone I met off the Internet. There is no shame in my game.  However, in this new world of online boo-loving I think there should still be some common sense things that both males and females should abide by:

1) Use your own damn picture! Think about it: If you use someone else's picture and you and your mutual interest decided to meet, chances are they are going to be pissed that you lied.  Furthermore, isn't the purpose of dating in general about finding someone who will like you for you? (I just dropped some knowledge, I know :)

2) Use a current picture. If you're 28, don't use your senior picture from high school. People can kinda guess that's a damn lie.

3) Be real in the "about me" section! An example of a profile gone wrong is a 48 year old man trying to appeal to much younger women by saying that he's a kid at heart because he likes to play on the monkey bars.  He didn't have any kids...so naturally I'm thinking pedophile and ewwwww.....

4) If its about sex...then it is what it is. Say that (in a not so creepy way) in that "about me" section.  Don't waste other people's time with your unknown intentions.

5) It may be a bit redundant but again say what you really want! If you want a cultured man, say it. If you want a woman who takes care of her man, tell it.  

6) When it's all said and done, go out on a real date(IN PUBLIC!!!) and for just this one time in this very high tech, fast paced, world...take it slow. Sometimes being old fashioned when it comes to love yields the best results. :)

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To Twerk or Not To Twerk Part 2: Let the Blame Fall Equally

So I woke up this morning feeling like I needed to write an addendum to my previous post on twerking and the black girl. This is not due to negative feedback but more so a sort of evolved thought process that seemingly occurred overnight. If you need a refresher here's the link to the previous post:
http://confessionsofambw.blogspot.com/2013/08/to-twerk-or-not-to-twerk-black-girl.html

In the last paragraph of my post I state "All I am saying is that we need to do better in terms of making sure that the most positive and moral attributes of our culture are the first things that the others strive to imitate."  When I was writing that last line, I did feel it and still do, however I neglected to place the blame equally on all parties responsible.

Last night, when I wrote that last line, I wasn't thinking about history in context.  While I did mention in my post that twerking was an extension of the modern day minstrel show and the misrepresentation of the black woman's so- called sexual prowess, I did not do a good job of explaining why this dance was so visible.  In fact, it may have been perceived that I was blaming sista's solely for perpetuating the stereotypes.  Today I'm more clear headed.

We live in a country that clings steadfast to the past, that is, a past that is riddled with notions of superiority. These misconceptions of the black woman's sexuality are nothing new.  In this society, that is still dominated by racial superiority, it is no small wonder that these images are the more widely noticed and imitated rather than that of the professional and educated black woman.  Why on earth would the media and society want to lift her up when they've been portraying her as lewd, wild, and inferior for so long?

While I stand firm in my opinion that we as black women and people in general should showcase the most positive aspects of our culture and defy stereotypes, we are not solely to blame.  Let the blame fall equally on the powers that be, the media, and the strange legacy of racial degradation that still lives in this country.

To Twerk or Not to Twerk: A Black Girl Ponders

Watching the VMA's on MTV this past week was definitely something new for me.  Even in my short 27 years on this earth, I am an old soul and the constant butt of friends jokes for not being up on the times. While I knew who most of the stars were at the awards, I must admit that I knew them mostly for their antics that made headlines, rather than the hits they produced.

And that brings me to Miley Cyrus and the twerk seen round the world.

Let me get straight to the point: I am not surprised that Miley was twerking.  Given her recent antics and the job she has in an industry that lives off of sex, it did not bother me that she was twerking. What did bother me however, was the black girl she had on stage with her who's butt was obviously padded to look enormous, shaking it "like she at a strip club."

Miley was twerking...so why did it have to be a black girl with a fake butt doing it too? As Miley showed us (albeit awkwardly and with small success) anyone can twerk.  That means that there could have been a white girl, Asian girl, Latina...anybody up there twerking right with her.  Yes, indeed twerking started in Africa, (though it definitely wasn't called twerking and was done for purposes other than to show off a healthy butt), and continued when we were forced to live on these shores.  However, what twerking has become is more as extension of the present day minstrel show and another misrepresentation of the so-called sexual prowess of Black women. It has been essentially shown as that black girl thing....that's how "we" dance (and we all have these jelly asses). It's just sad because it essentially becomes what we're good for. While you may be less likely to find a video of a black woman talking about stocks and bonds and uplifting her people, you can bet your twerking ass that you will find millions of videos of black women twerking or showing you how to do it.

Have I twerked? In the mirror at home, yes :). Surely, when I go out to the club, I'm not two stepping but I'm certainly not out to imitate a stripper either. My mother raised me to know that the most valuable asset is my brain and I should strive to attract with that. This is what I think a lot of young black women need to be reminded of. I think that as a culture we have gotten lax in our thinking.  Fifty years ago, we were striving to fight stereotypes; today it seems that we are rushing to live up to them.

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to see someone of another culture admire what we have created. I am not saying that Black women should be ashamed.  All I am saying is that we need to do better in terms of making sure that the most positive and moral attributes of our culture are the first things that the others strive to imitate.

To Be Dark and Enraged (A Rant)

"You're pretty for a dark skinned girl."

It was the third time he said something like that during the conversation and curse words were forming at my lips.

"You're too dark to have Indian blood."

When she said it I was tempted to pull out a book on genetics and smack her in the face with it and also to correct her on the usage of the word Indian. So obsolete and incorrect.

"That can't possibly be my grandchild; she's too dark."

That time I wasn't involved but I couldn't help but stare at this woman in disbelief. She was black and the child was black.  Hue had nothing to do with paternity.

At least this is what I think that most black people and white people should know by now.

As a brown skinned girl, I am on the darker side of the spectrum of African American skin tones. Unfortunately, I was always conscious of it growing up in a family where my maternal side displayed hues more consistent with Africa and my paternal side displaying both hues and features characteristic of European ancestry. While I have always accepted my skin color and was proud, I can't always say that I felt the most confident when people called attention to it.
I never did completely understand it. I mean hello, as people of African descent, didn't we all come from someone darker skinned at some point in our story? It cracks me up that the same people who identify as African-American or "Black" are also the same one's to denounce one of their brethren as too black, too dark, or unattractive due to darker hues and the fear that maybe, just maybe, the ancestor's may be resurrected in the skin color of their child.

On the reverse side, I am often accused of exclusively dating light skinned men because I want my children to be lighter.  That accusation is not even close to right. I cannot help it if my darker skinned brothers do not think I'm worth it because my skin isn't fair, my hair isn't long and straight, and that I do not look ethnically ambiguous.

We can call it self hatred, we can call it Euro-centrism, we can call it the effects of coming from a broken people. However, no matter what we call it, colorism is just plain WRONG.  Never mind the fact that you are disrespecting your own people, you are disrespecting and spitting upon the legacies of those who suffered and died for us to be here.

Judging someone based on the color of their skin, is not just disrespectful...it's just plain idiotic.

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Because Your House Isn't A Date (A short one)

Chivalry is most certainly dead.

Or it could be buried beneath the seat covers of some man's couch.  He misplaced it there when he was trying to find the exact words to say to ask me out. I'm most certainly convinced of this.

As a girl who is pretty attractive (yes I am tootin' my own horn), I can't understand for the life of me why anyone wouldn't want to show me off.  Furthermore, I cannot understand why a grown man cannot understand the danger that he presents inviting a single young woman to his home for the first "date".

Date...right.  Yes, yes, yes. I see now...getting invited to someone's most intimate spot is surely an ideal first date! Being alone with you in your home ensures that nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen. It's not like there's any closets for you to hide me in...no way for you to lock the doors so I can't get out.

No sir. Make mine dinner in public where lots of people can see you.

Your house...is not a date.

Young, Black, and Childless...Is that a Problem?

The day that my grandma showed me the tap and ballet shoes that my two year old daughter was going to wear, was a day that I was rendered completely speechless.

"Oh..." was all I could muster. And then complete silence.

I couldn't even say thank you. It wasn't that the shoes weren't the most adorable things I had ever seen, but it was certainly unexpected.

THAT WAS ONLY BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANY KIDS!

Ok so Grandma has an excuse; she wants some great grand kids.  But other people don't! I can't even count on one hand how many times I have been asked the question:

"Girl, when you gonna have some kids?"

In my mind, I am screaming "Never...if you ask me one more time!"

What is it about people wanting to slap some kids on a girl as soon as she enters her late twenties? I still have at least ten more years to go before it'll be quitting time. Still, people don't look at me like that...to most people, including people around my age, I'm on the clock and even though I may have my youth and beauty...it is not looking pretty.

You see, the baby question usually comes right before the "So, you are smart, pretty, and got a lot going for yourself. Why don't you have a man?" question. That particular question I don't have an answer to at the moment (I've thought about it but...I got nothing), but I can answer the baby question a couple ways:

1) Because I don't have a husband.
2) Because I can barely take care of myself let alone a child.
3) Because I want to be ready, financially, before I have a child.

Even though these seem like good enough reasons for me, most people just think I'm missing out.
Of course I want children...in the future. I actually want to have three if God wills it but what holds me back is nothing more than personal experience.

I grew up in a household with a single mom and three brothers. While she was and still is phenomenal ,my mom barely got time to herself playing both mom and dad to us kids. I watched as day in and day out as she would come from a full time job, have to cook and clean, and do homework with us.

Truth, that is the selflessness of being a great mom, and hey mom I love you for it but as you always told me:
Life is about making choices. I chose to plan. Like Mom always says "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail."
I couldn't possibly give birth to a child until I was ready to give that child all that my mom was able to give me and then some.  The truth is that I just haven't reached that level of selflessness yet...and I don't think that's unreasonable for a woman of my age.

In my opinion, in your twenties, you should be having fun and experiencing life but also making choices that are going to lay the groundwork and foundation for that family to come.  Yes it's true we don't always have control over the situations that life brings us but this is not the 1950's.

Don't get me wrong, there is not time frame on birthing children and it happens for different people at different times.  However, I think that if you know you're not ready, you shouldn't even go there. I'd rather wait to be able to give my child the world than have to bring her into one that I'm still struggling to make it in.

Just my opinion!

Confessions of a Cupcake Whore

"Why did I do that?"

I shook my head to the air. I vowed I would weigh myself in the morning just to see if the scale budged a bit.  This was the first time I had been below 200 lbs in six years and  I was determined to keep it that way.

Though I had indulged, no all that was left  was disgusting, dry, after taste in my mouth. I thought about throwing up and being...one of those girls. 

I had just eaten four vanilla cupcakes with white frosting...in five minutes.

This was not the first time I had done something like this; in the past it was an 8" Carvel Ice Cream cake complete with sprinkles. Other times it was an entire bag of lays. On worse days, it could be a six pack of cupcakes, some fried chicken, and surprisingly a diet Pepsi (Like that helped).  But it had been a long time since I felt like I needed  to eat like this.  I had been on an exercise regimen that included 3 days of Zumba and an aggressive ab workout. I had come too far to turn back now.

But then again, I was in the middle of a rigorous grad school program, working full time, trying to figure out why a guy wouldn't take me out, tired of being broke, tired of being treated like an inferior, and seriously...seriously contemplating driving to Maryland one weekend and just winging it. The culmination of events was forcing me into escape mode...but I had nowhere to turn.  Even if I ran away, I had nowhere to live and had a brand new car to pay for. How could I do that with no money?

I stared silently at the cupcake package.  Left over icing was sticking to the top, and even though I started to feel that old, familiar pain radiating from my gull bladder...I wished there was more. More comfort food so I could just focus on that for a moment. However, as hard as I stared, I couldn't  make the cupcakes reappear. I couldn't let go of all my stress either. Suddenly, I was lying in the middle of my bed, half blinded by tears that were rolling down my cheeks.

I went on like that for about twenty minutes, berating myself for the cupcakes, belittling myself for the guy who didn't care to take me on a date, hating myself for not saving smarter when I was an undergraduate, and wishing that I could fly to Maryland overnight like Peter Pan.

Twenty minutes of tears, hatred, and frustration turned into prayer, discernment, and then finally understanding.  Even though I didn't want to admit it, I was stressed...and doing and worrying about way too much. I needed to take a step back; figure out why all this stuff was getting to me...get rid of the stuff that really didn't matter.

I came to conclusion that I was almost done with school and had been pushing so hard this long that I could continue doing so. I realized that finishing grad school was a gateway to my life in Maryland, that my inferiority complex was collectively my own as well as certain professionals who tried to pigeonhole me into a stereotype, and that the dude who didn't want to take me on a date but to his house could kick f****king rocks. I knew that I couldn't correct my money mistakes in the past but could try harder to be frugal now so...I could definitely make that move in a few months.

I also realized that that would be the last time I choked down four cupcakes...or anything like that ever again.

Ever Again.

I'm not saying it's easy but we must come to a point where we recognize the problem is within us and we are the only one's who can change this.  Though we may think it is ever the condition in life, stress is an option. If you feel that it is inevitable, stress about what actually matter as opposed to the trivial things in life.

Free yourself from the cupcakes!!!!

Bitter

Ever hear a song that hits your emotions right on the head? That's me today; Shante' Moore's Bitter  is blowing a hole through my brain and the problem is it is making me even more bitter.
If Nirvana's It Smells Like Teen Spirit  was the anthem of teen angst, then Bitter   has got to be the fed-up, single, black, woman's anthem.

Of course Shante' sings it more sweetly than I ever could have.  If I had to rerecord that song right now, I'd be yelling the lyrics so loudly that they'd kick me out of the studio! I don't think I could transfer the emotion of being bitter any other way...the fact that you've been nice and have done all for someone only to be taken on an emotional roller coaster.  You may have even fallen in love with the fool.

However, Shante's song is not just about one person, its about multiple situations that black women have to go through in the dating world.  As women who have it all, our talents are overlooked, our generosity is abused, and our strength is avoided.  Strength to me is a balance in a relationship; serving as safety net when one partner is weary; they can balance on the other.  Yet, the strength of a black woman is misconstrued as "she can handle it, so she doesn't need me...hell she can hold me down while I do nothing!"

And this is why I have to stop myself from singing under my breath in the grocery store, when I spot someone who is obviously no good looking at me:


Don't follow me home...nigga
Don't ring my phone...nigga
Just leave me alone..nigga

No, I don't condone her usage of the word nigga but when you're not in the right frame of mind...well things and words happen.

OK, time out. It's OK to be mad and frustrated about the relationship situations we go through but what if we took all the bitterness and rage and transformed it into a positive force? Life is all about learning experiences and through those experiences, we learn how to either avoid situations or nip them in the bud very quickly.

I can remember a few years back when I was suffering through a very tumultuous relationship and I was talking to my mom.  She would sit me down at the dining room table, hand me a few tissues, and say "People are in your life for a reason and a season.  What you have to do is decided what you cannot and will not take, and then take the good qualities from each man you've dated and find one that will encompass them all."

Wise advice, no doubt from my mama. She wasn't saying that there was a perfect man out there, she was just saying that I needed to think about the essential, necessary things, that I needed to have in one. If I just really thought about these things instead of diving head first into whatever was thrown at me, I might stand a better chance.  Sometimes in love you have to be very selective.

Jumping back to the present, I also realized that there was another issue: I WAS LOOKING! Sometimes when you go looking for stuff, you ultimately will find something that you didn't want in the first place.  I know, I know, we all just want a friend when we're lonely...we want that movie kind of romance that Sanaa and Omar had, or Sanaa and Taye, or...well you get the picture. Instead when we go looking, we get Leon's character in Waiting to Exhale.

Don't get me wrong, it's not our fault that these mistakes happen. However, the Bible says in I Corinthians Chp 13, V 4 that "Love is patient...Love is Kind."  If love is patient then maybe we should wait for it because it is waiting for us! Even if you are not religious you can certainly agree that most of the beautiful things in life are worth the wait.

So maybe Shante's lyrics might be the way that I am feeling consistently as I walk this earth waiting for my prince to arrive but, I am not going to let bitterness manifest me. I know that this feeling is only temporary and in due time, I will meet Mr. Pretty Damn Good.

Black women, we have got to take the time out to remove the bitterness from our hearts so that love may have a place when it is time.

I am not my hair...or at least my hair makes me not who I usually am

For the longest time, I was one of those girls who refused to wear a hair weave for style. During  high school I had only worn it in weaved cornrows twice to give my hair a break from the straightening comb and once in micros during prom to replicate the Brandy-esque Cinderella. I had always had a good "grade" of hair as my great-grandmother would tell me and it was fairly long (not like Pocahontas or anything). In fact, unlike most black girls I knew, I didn't even get my first relaxer until I was 18 and a sophomore in college.  I was proud of that fact because I had known so many girls who had been sporting relaxers since they were six.  They may have had long, beautiful straight hair in their younger days but, now in their twenties they were going bald... and had to sport hair weaves to cover the damage.

Though I was meticulous in taking care of my hair when I got my relaxer, I developed a thyroid condition when I was 24 and my hair began to thin and in some cases fall out.

 I was devastated.

As I sat in my hairdresser's chair, watching her snip away at the straggly and thinning pieces to form a bob, I felt like the ugliest human being on earth.  All of my pride was falling to the floor around me.

The bob cut turned out cute and my hair started to grow back again, however, instead of growing to its original length, it would only grow to a certain point and begin the cycle of breakage again.

Every time it fell out, it would take such a toll on me that I became severely depressed. I didn't feel sexy, confident, or attractive. What was it about having hair that made me feel any different? I tried to tell myself that hair was only a part of my body, and didn't have anything to do with the wonderful and beautiful person I was...even though it was extremely noticeable that women (especially black women) with longer hair seemed to get a lot more attention. I even had a good reason not to even consider any additions to my hair after seeing Chris Rock's documentary Good Hair: women in India shave their heads in sacrifice and we black women put it on ours for vanity...a total contradiction.

I stood steadfast in my decision not believe in the weave until it was recommended that I tried a sew-in to give my hair a break from the harsh chemicals in relaxers.  I loved it...even though after a while it itched like hell and was a pain to wash. It was great to not see my delicate strands covering my brush for a while and when I decided to get it taken out after about 3 months, my hair seemed a lot healthier.

I would go on to repeat this process with sew-ins and quick weaves, which are glued to the head and alternate with my relaxers. I didn't become a chronic weaver, but I did notice how my attitude had changed when I had that extra hair on my head.  For some reason I was more energetic, happier, feeling more confident, and sexier.  Clothes I had not dared to previously wear became my go tos.  Men seemed more eager to approach me.

As I sat back and noticed all these changes, I became a bit conflicted; why was having extra hair on my head making such a big difference? Stepping back, I realized that it is not the hair...it is me.
I wasn't feeling good about myself which is the only reason why it made the difference.  Subconsciously, I believed that my appearance was the only thing good about me which is why my attitude shifted so with a fresh weave. Realizing this, I looked in the mirror and promised myself a few things:
1) When this weave comes out, you will still be you.
2) You will still be beautiful.
3) You will still be confident.
4) You will love yourself and anyone who doesn't love you without this weave is non-F***ing factor.

As black women, we are always pitted against women of other ethnicities by society and the black men that we love.  From an early age, a lot of are made to feel as is we are unattractive due to our skin tones and because our hair doesn't grow straight out of our heads.  Before I had my epiphany, I fell into that trap as well. 

I think this is something a lot of black women need to reckon with before they become addicted to weave. I would like to say THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH WEAVE.  However, the problem starts when any kind of enhancement to your physical being starts to manifest your spiritual and emotional being. YOU MUST LOVE YOURSELF EVEN ON YOUR WORST LOOKING DAY.

Last weekend, I went to my cousins wedding sporting a quick weave. Long and wavy, I looked more like an Indian princess than anything. While I was greeted with by extended family with choruses of "Oh look how beautiful you've grown to be!" and "You are gorgeous honey," I knew that they weren't saying it because of the hair.

They said it because I was smiling.

The thing I am realizing slowly but surely is that...it ain't about what's on your hair, body, or face, its about what you are carrying on your spirit.  If you learn to love yourself no matter how you look, as cliché as that may sound, it will shine through you and people will take notice. Who doesn't want to be around a person who has joy shining through them?

I am not this hair. I am Alonna.

One day, I woke up feeling like I was completely doomed.  Tears soaking my pillow and sweat creeping through my night shirt, one would have guessed that I suffered some traumatic event the night before.

I did.

I read an article that told me that because I was black, a woman, and educated, I was less likely to find a man of my caliber, more likely to date someone below my social status, and possibly end up alone and childless.

In my younger years, I settled: high school graduates, minimum wage jobs, door to door selling jobs, no car, no place to call their own while I was full time school, three part time jobs, busing it and staying on campus until two in the morning because I had no computer to finish my assignments. However,  now at the ripe old age of 27, roughing it doesn't seem feasible anymore and...its unacceptable for my mate.

While I of course do not think I should lower my standards, the large amount of potential suitors have featured in a category not neccesarily below my social status but below my educational level.
It amazes me mostly how the things I have done to make me martketable in the real world, have made me undesirable in the dating world.  I've had many encounters with men who were both impressed and frightened by my ability to speak Spanish or even that I had a Bachelor's degree.  When any subject of my education or activities outside of movies, bowling, or making love entered the premises it was like...way too much for them.  What's worse is that these were men of my caliber: college educated, financially secure brothers. Hadn't they been surrounded by women like me at their alma maters?

I guess I have several questions: is it wrong to prefer an educational level when seeking a mate? and more importantly, why does a girl with a brain (and class) cause black men to head for the hills?

If the article is correct, I will more than likely seek a man outside of my race...I mean because thats what you do when you're shunned right? Give up all hope and go the opposite way.