Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

Photo by  Redd Angelo  on  Unsplash "So what do you want to do about us?" That's what I asked him. It had been about two years of dating, love, and intimacy of varied levels.  "I would like us to be together in the future. I can see us together." These kinds of answers do nothing for me. When someone wants something, they set goals. I wasn't a goal. I was an option. I was a convenience and for the greater portion of two years, I was a fool.  I could say the love held me there. I could say the chemistry held me there however, whatever the reason I can't say it was worth spending two years hoping that someone would decide I'm worth committing to.  The worst part? This silly response was always the same. Time went on and the response remained the same. There were brief periods where we actually were "together" but the same issues that plagued our relationship from the beginning hung over us like a black cloud. We were covered i...

Photo by  Dollar Gill  on  Unsplash Tired of the drama and dysfunction? That's interesting because chances are, you created it and or/facilitated it. Wait! Don't stop reading before I explain: If you're in a lackluster relationship, there was a point that you realized this person wasn't for you. If you didn't decide they weren't for you, then you likely began to ponder if they actually are for you. Sometimes it takes time to be definitive. If you're always in the midst of drama with friends or family, you have to wonder where your participation in the nonsense you're enduring comes in. If you are always in the middle of workplace gossip, you may want to ask yourself why you are aware anyone is gossiping. Even the person playing reporter has a role in your dramatic workplace story. If you're overweight, you had a hand in getting there one way or another. It doesn't matter if you have a medical issue, you can monitor your caloric intake...

"You're so cool, I just can't figure out why you're single!" I hear this sentiment more often than I care to share. While I smile and accept it as a compliment, I also feel a pang of anger within.  I don't know why I'm single.  I can probably take a few guesses. I don't have time to date, or just don't make time. I'm completely open to meeting the man that I can spend my life with but one husband and several relationships later, that guy is looking like he doesn't exist. Today, at my part time job, I met a guy. He's literally the cable guy and he came in to service an apartment. He was pretty flirtatious and I of course served it back to him. That's just in my nature. I don't know how NOT to be flirtatious, especially when my skills are being solicited. I think that eventually giving the cable guy my number wasn't the most professional decision I've ever made but there was no way that I was going to pass up th...

photo courtesy of  www.grandparents.com I think the best way to start this off is to give you an understanding of my relationship with food. First, we have a relationship. That should say something. The healthy person eats to live, and I live to eat. I'm not sure how it all started honestly. My memory only goes back to about age 4 and at that time, I wasn't conscious of much of anything. I didn't think about my body. I hadn't compared it to anyone else. I was just as clueless about food. I never thought of eating too much or too little. I don't recall being hungry at that age. I just remember being fed. I was a picky eater. Cold cuts made me nauseous. A hot egg sandwich could be ingested but if you tossed a hot drink in the mix (like tea or cocoa), I was tossing cookies. If my dinner had too many ingredients, I picked around it. My mom was always one green pepper or onion slice away from ruining my meal. The only thing I ate to the last drop without fail wa...

The knock was unexpected. I was watching "Boyz N Da Hood" on a very grainy VHS and wasn't expecting company. I'd sneak boys into the small basement apartment before but lately I wasn't in the mood for boys with their anxious hands pawing all over me, with open mouth kisses lacking coordination as they tried to feel up my shirt. Oh, it was him. He was a young man, eighteen, maybe nineteen. High School graduate. He was moonlighting as a mechanic. Mom took a liking to him. She always took a liking to the wrong men. I liked his physique. He was lean and chiseled; the build of a young man who is used to hard labor. I was attracted to him, but not enough to do much about it. Besides, he had a girlfriend who was in her early twenties. There was no competing with a young woman when you are a fifteen year old girl with a mild crush. She sent me to his house to give him some money for some work he began to do on her car. I stood on the stoop and rang the doorb...

I lived most of my adult life believing I was meant to work for myself. I started off selling Avon. I would hustle my catalog to my colleagues at the investment firm I worked in and fill orders. I was building a decent client base and was receiving a small profit, however, I spent more than I earned to remain active as a distributor. Strangers had their own distributors and didn't want to purchase from me. I got tired of hitting up my clients for more sales and giving away trinkets with each purchase was dipping into my profits. Parties dwindled after the first one. Avon wasn't turning out to be the escape I needed from Corporate America. Fast forward to Arbonne. I was a beauty consultant or whatever we were called and I hosted a successful party along with developing a business selling gift baskets to peoples wives for holidays and birthdays. Again, I was obligated to have a base amount of sales so during slow months, I cut into my meager profit to meet the amount needed ...

Photo by  Nicholas Bui  on  Unsplash Just typing this post is a ministry of preparation. I don't know how people will receive me. I don't knowwhat people will think. I don't know how I even feel honestly. For years, I have battled depression. I even posted about my journey as a depressed person. For some reason, the medication never seemed to work for long before I was "off". I can't completely describe what "off" feels like other than moments of battling what feels like the onset of a crisis or feeling my mood shift despite taking a drug that was intended to stabilize it. I wasn't always depressed while on anti-depressants but I wasn't always well either. I've always held a job. Being the sole provider for my household, holding a job has been a non-negotiable necessity. The issue? I never held a job for more than five years. Five years was the cap for me. I had something called the 3-year-itch. No matter what the position, or the c...