Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

The Top 5 Reasons Why Your Marriage Is Failing You're Cheating. Now you don't have to take this literally. It doesn't mean that you are stepping outside of the relationship to meet your sexual needs. Cheating can be emotional or social. Let me explain: If you're investing your time into everyone and everything else before you invest in your partner (which is synonymous for your marriage), then you are in essence cheating your spouse out of the time and attention that they need. It may seem hard to do but nothing falls out of that category; family, friends, work, kids, etc. Your spouse should trump all of those things. If you are putting your spouse first, they will give you the balance and support you need to tend to that work assignment, family gathering, ailing parent, or growing children. So often people put other things ahead and logically justify it however if your spouse is last on your list to address, so is your marriage. Confiding in your friends more

Love: Underestimated But Not Overrated  There was a time that my views on love would be best described as jaded at best. The irony in that is when reflecting upon my previous love relationships, I would have to admit that I didn't experience the full potential of what love can truly bring. I was often in torrid love affairs where either I was smitten and they weren't, they were smitten and I wasn't or we were both smitten and tormenting each other with our issues. Realizing this has led me to the conclusion that you can't grow tired of something you never truly experienced and to be bitter about a poor outcome from a poor investment is unfair and foolish. When I was married, my husband would often complain that the person I was with others was a more kind and jovial version of the woman I was when we were alone. I would dismiss his claims with the false assurance that I was only wearing the obligatory mask that all people wear when they interact with outsiders

Funny that I created this blog years ago in effort to draw positive attention to what so many others were scorning at the time; natural hair. I used to be a natural hair stylist and I met so many women who were either afraid to "go natural" or were struggling to stay natural. Seldom did I meet someone who was content and simply needed styling services. I won't say that learning navigate an entirely new hair texture doesn't come with it's fair share of challenges. I will say that so many of us don't want to deal with our hair once it's restored to its original texture. I have to admit that I have been one of the women that I used to tsk at years ago. I always have in hair extensions by way of weave, braids or crocheted something. I say that I am doing a protective style which is sometimes true but most times I am just trying not to do my hair at all. I don't want to bother to manipulate my hair into elaborate twist outs and take time to do intricat

So you want to know what's going on with North Korea and the United States but are too afraid to ask because your friends will know that you are a hopelessly uninformed willfully ignorant spaz? No worries friend, I've got your back. Want to hear it? Here it go:  Kim Jong-un's attitude when people tell him NOT to do something. So Kim Jong-un is like from this legacy of badasses, right?! So he's all like " I am the Supreme leader of North Korea" and he will pretty much smoke your @$$ if you're fake. He only messes with people who keep it real. Then he decides he is going to do some bomb testing even though world leaders agreed to cut out the nuclear bomb stuff because who really wins when it comes to that sh*t? But Kim is like "nah, I give no f---'s" I'm bomb testing. You have a problem? Come see me.   So everyone in the US is looking at Don like "Yo, what are you going to do dude?" Don's over there just working his

Robin Williams didn't commit suicide. Depression murdered him. That's how I view it. I dislike when people say suicide. It's almost as if people immediately discount the significance of the loss because the death was self-inflicted. I can assure you that depression drives people to off themselves. For the sake of being technical, yes killing yourself is suicide but please do this for me: think of a time you were desperate. I don't care if it was to receive attention from that person you were madly in love with or when you stole that money, or told that lie, or took them back. Photo by  Mike Wilson  on  Unsplash It was a moment of desperation. Were you in control? Perhaps. Did it feel like it? No. Welcome to the lives of the depressed. I often feel like a shell that is housing a cloud of sadness within me. I don't get to wear all black and sit in art galleries smoking slim cigarettes discussing dark abstract art. I'm not emo chic. I gain weight and look li

Photo by  Victoria Palacios  on  Unsplash I'd finally reached a point where I was able to careen down the dangerous road that is depression without steering toward death and hoping for "the best". I just want to clean up my life and make myself a normal happy person. It was hard learning where to start. I learned my triggers. That means I figured out what made me feel depressed. I realized that I had numerous triggers, some that I had no control over and being the control freak that I am, it only aggravated my anxiety once I figured it all out. Steering clear of my triggers became an obsession and I took an unfair and unrealistic approach toward friendships, relationships, job opportunities and even food. I would often become very rigid all for the sake of preservation of my sanity but my unwavering approach only isolated me. It was a complete mess and I was the orchestrator of it. These periods of extreme discipline would be followed by periods of extreme carelessn

Photo by  Priscilla Du Preez  on  Unsplash You would think I would have been more creative the second time I tried to die. I wasn't. I was a single mother with a very young toddler and I couldn't figure out how to be a very young twenty-something, a mom, a college drop out, and an adult who was aspiring to build a career instead of just having a job. I was waitressing and my tips weren't enough to make the rent for my studio apartment. My daughter was always at her father's parents home because I was working nearly 53 hours a week. Despite my hard work, I never had enough money. I dropped about 15lbs and everyone was complimenting me but I was starving. I would feed my daughter and pray she would be full so I could eat whatever she left over. I didn't care if it was cold Farina or chewed up and spat out chicken and veggies. I needed to eat and I was broke. Realizing that I was working for my daughter but hardly saw her started to wear on me. It didn't hel

Charlie Hebdo Cover, Charlie Hebdo  I was having a conversation with someone about Hurricane Harvey and the person I was chatting with blatantly said that they had zero intention of donating to Houston. I was told that Texas has an enormous amount of racism within it, a high number of Trump supporters, and they just will not be donating. After googling my way around the net, I came to find that there are a few others who share this decision albeit for different reasons. The Women's March wanted to focus monies raised for the relief of minority ethnic groups. A co-worker of mine stated that they would rather contribute toward relief efforts for the stranded animals in Texas. I found another article about yet another woman who had more interest in the animals and less interest in Trump Supporters. Is this a choice? Reverse racism? Both? As Americans, it would be ideal to help our fellow man. We often dabble in the affairs of those overseas, however with the political climate a

Photo by  Ian Espinosa  on  Unsplash I tried to die. I think I was 18 when I had my first crisis. A "crisis" is the term used to describe when the depression has consumed its sufferer to the point of debilitation or suicide. I was 18, and I failed my road test for the second time. For some reason, I felt completely defeated and the most logical solution to escape the pain and hopelessness that consumed me was death. So I took at least 8 ibuprofen and chugged some Trinidadian rum that my mother stowed away for holiday cake making. I drafted a sorrowful letter to my mother, brother, sister and nephew telling them that I loved them, but the pain was far too unbearable to endure for any length of time. I asked God for forgiveness. I placed the letter under my pillow and went to nap only, I wasn't very tired. Had I not taken enough? My sister was a nurse. Maybe I needed to adjust my intake according to my weight. Rummaging through the cupboards, I searched for any OTC p