December 1, 2009

He was the perfect man, cultured and an artist in his own right.  Fiercely proud of his african ancestry and loyal to maintaining knowledge of the ancestors.  He quoted Langston and Zora like scripture and made music from is heart manifest in the ears of thousands.  He travelled in circles I only heard or read about and visited countries I’d only seen in pictures.  He became a legend in my mind…..but He never let me love him.

He was an honorable son who sat vigil by the side of his dying mother , a son who held his father in high regard and sacrificed to ensure quality of life as the aging man lived on without his wife.  He was the brother of a difficult sister who may have resented his “shine” but he loved her anyway and would risk his gifted hands….hands that made his living to perform a mechanical task she had no man of her own to do……but He never let me love him….

He was the father of children who did not yet recognize the deep love and commitment he poured out on their altar of indifference month after month….year after year…the father who refused to let go or forget that his blood pumped through their veins and their birth certificates held his name…..so he wrote a child support check he could not afford every month and he drove hundred of miles to witness the milestones of their lives and he endured the humiliation of hearing them call another man daddy……but….He never let me love him.

We spent hours talking and looking into the others heart.  He once told me that talking to me was like his soul was eatin ice cream….He was like peanut butter to my jelly…I called him “Mokosi” which means King.  He confided that if he were a King I would be his Chief Advisor………I realized that he did not say Queen…..so I moved on and Loved another because he “Crowned” me.

I promised that I would write about a “Good Man” in installments so here is where I’ll begin..last Installment I shared how many times women sabotage our chances at love because we are looking at only outer qualities and we miss the inner qualities such as kindness….devotion….openness…..well another way we sabotage our chances at love is we accept the role of Comforter, Advisor, Encourager, etc……without being crowned as his Queen.  We stay in situations with men who are unavailable to us….sometimes they are unavailable because they are too emotionally damaged from previous life experiences, sometimes they are unavailable because of the season of their life they are in…ie focused on career accomplishments, focused on adventure and excitement….or maybe they are unavailable because they are immature and have not yet realized that women and children are to be the receivers of their protection and provision and they are still child like in their desire to be a taker only and not a giver…..perhaps they are unavailable because they have a drug and alcohol problem or uncontrolled anger and rage issues….or maybe they simply don’t have you in mind for that role of Queen in their life.  Whatever the reason for his being unavailable to you, it is up to you to believe your eyes and not just your ears….It is up to you to honor your own opinion and estimation of the condition of the relationship….if it is hurting somethingg is wrong….Pain is a powerful agent of  warning and even change. Pain tells us that somethin is wrong, Pain tells us something is out of balance and Pain tells us that attention and care of ourselves is needed.  Without pain a situation can silently kill you…so wether you are a woman or a man if you are experiencing pain because the object of your desire is unavailable to you you have to ask yourself not just is this a “good man” or a “good woman” is this woman or man “good” for me.    Now if you are married and your spouse is unavailable to you I believe there is a process of prayer and working that must be attempted to remedy the situation…never easy to endure but seeking to please God requires we put sincere effort into our marriage…..but to those who are unmarried yet subjecting yourself to heaps of rejection you get to decide when you have had enough and what you really want Read Proverbs 21 and focus on verse 15 …..more to come on the subject of a “Good Man”

Loving you like a mamma,


A Good Man

November 22, 2009

I recently came across a very sincere post from a young man that gave me pause for thought.  I actually posted it again here for as many ladies as possible to read….I’ll let you read it and then I’ve got lots to say….

Nice Phat Kid

We have all heard the saying nice guys finish last. Well were does the
nice phat kid finish? That has been the story of my life. I’ve always been a
big kid, some would even say phat. ( I spell it that way because I’m still
in denial about my weight) At the same time I have always been real
athletic, have you ever been to the park and saw that phat athletic kid on
the basketball courts, well my friends that is me. Being the nice phat kid is
very annoying and depressing at times. Back in high school I had about 6
crushes. It was more like puppy love. So I began to be friends with these
girls and time after time I got the false sense that these girls liked me in the boyfriend kind of way, so like any other man I attempted to take the relationship to next step. To my surprise each time I was hit with the your like my brother line, or my all time favorited your like a big teddy bear.Girls dont want Teddy bears they want the Bad Boy. Mean while my boys were straight assholes to girls and yet they pulled mad girls. As a teenage boy that shit is frustrating, you want a girlfriend you know, you want girls to like you and in my case it just wasn’t happening, why because I was nice and phat.

It wasn’t until recently that I felt comfortable with myself. Growing up I always
 wanted to be the little dude. Even in sports I have always favored with
the short quick guys instead of the guys who are built like me. In
basketball I thought I was a point guard, in football I thought I was a
Wide Receiver. I have always been the big “Nigga” when me and boys go out,
with being that big “Nigga” that meant I was the one who would go to club and not
get any females, or even get a dance, seeing this happen to me time after
time has left me lacking a little on the confidence side. It’s tough when you see your friends get all the girls. It”s  even tougher when you”re  the only one not in a relationship you start to feel like your just ugly and that stings, it actually hurts the heart. You begin to forget the qualities that make you who you are. For a period of time I forgot about my smile(its a great smile by the way). I forgot my sense of humor, I forgot my swag, I lost what made me “Boogs”. All because of what alot of women call attractive or fine. Well you know what I’m not trying to make alot of women think I’m fine, my goal is to make that one Woman think I’m fine. When that day comes that I meet that Woman, she will get everything That this Big Nigga Boogs has to offer.

There are times when I wish I could be that skinny asshole who gets all the Girls but thats just not me, I was raised in an all woman household. So I know the right way to treat a woman, so that’s why I’m nice to women and don’t disrespect them, I guess that makes me a nice guy, In America its taboo to be phat or overweight so with that being said we all know that attractive women are not going to be fucking with phat boys it just not heard of very often. Its not that i have trouble with women it that the type of women that i am attracted too are not trying to fuck with me. I tried to be an asshole and be a jack ass to women but it not me, it not who my mom raised me to be. Being the phat nice kid is who I am and I wouldn’t change it for anybody, my time is coming. Just remember PHAT BOY IS SUPER COOL.  

 I purposely did not edit the curse words or anything that this young man said, because I think it truly shows the hurt and frustration that he is feeling….So often as a woman I am mindful of other womens feelings, but I think sometimes I forget that men have feelings too…..they can be really good at hiding them and even don a fake bravado or the guise of a “jackass” but they are not immune to rejection and heartache.  I think we have created a culture of extreme narcissim where people are constanly valued and devalued for genetic qualities as well as financial accomplishments.  I can remember being that girl in the club, that was so insecure about what her friends might think that I turned down less handsome guys who sincerely offered the fun of a dance.  Time after time I fell in love with the “bad boy” the “ladies man” “the playa” and looked over the friend who listened to my sob stories and brought me soup when I had the flu….or the nice geeky guy who visited me in the hospital when I had my appendectomy…he did n’t care that I did not look fly in my hospital gown, he cared that I was going to be okay.  You see it wasn’t enough that they guy liked me…he had to be fine enough to make my girls envy me…and have enough money to make my family proud of me and……hard enough to make other men intimidated..Now mind you I never verbalized these requirements I don’t even think I was concious of them for many years…but after several failed relationships and over years of raising children alone  I met a man who was not  handsome enough to make my girls envy, he did not have enough money to make my family proud and in this society’s eyes his value is suspect…..  You see I went over the list I had of what I wanted in a man and I realized that in the end I want someone who loves me enough to bring me soup, listen to my sob stories and who will sit with me when I am in the hospital……and I am fighting daily to not let the media, the family or even my own thoughts make me  forget  what I  truly  value and desire in a man….the best gifts don’t always come in the prettiest package…. this is a topic I will be sharing more about so stay in touch.

Biggun “She’s a big one”

October 30, 2009

When did I learn that being small was an important thing for a girl to be?  It seems like I’ve somehow always known but …I know that isn’t true.  Staring at a picture of myself at age 6 I contemplated when “largeness” entered my life.  At 6 eyes flashing, sassy, hands on my hips cute as I wanna be daddy’s girl, I was still considered an average sized child.  It seems to me things started to change around my tenth year; the taunts on the playground, my mother’s exasperation as I tried on clothes when shopping…all mounting evidence that I was now “LARGE” .  Why did it matter anyway?  Wasn’t I still clever and cute?  As I grew older and yes, larger the taunting became more unbearable..”Fat Jelly”  “Fat mamma” on and on it went.  I don’t think the connection between my eating habits and size genuinely sunk in to my psyche until the age of 13.  That was the year i first heard..”you have such a cute face but…”  In retrospect I have no real memory of ever approving of my body.  I heard others judgement and with them I agreed.  My faults were many according to the television, magazines and the schoolyard bullies..lets see….my thighs were too big, shoulders too broad, way too tall for a girl ..and well really what could God have possibly been thinking when he gave me those broad shoulders?  Didn’t he know that only men are supposed to have broad shoulders?  Girls are supposed to be small. “That Girl” was small, “Bat girl” was small, all the girls on “Petticoat junction were small…and there were all these rules for “Big Girls” like…   1.) Big girls should never sit on the arm or edge of furniture  2.) Big girls never ever wear sleeveless tops and maybe the most important rule of all 3.) Big girls should never wear bright colors..after all it is important for a “Big girl” not to draw any undue attention to herself.  Now as a child I wasn’t quite sure who created these rules, but my mother firmly enforced them.  As an adult after years of trying every diet and excercise fad from HCG injections to Phen Phen I recognize that both men and women are constantly being bombarded with the message that they are not sufficient and they must do or become something other than themselves to achieve the elusive state of “happy” that we all long for..  As a young girl my inner being felt like a gentle fragile princess, but no one seemed to see me that way and they definitely did not treat me that way.  Instead they called me “Biggun” which is short for she is a big one!  That name brought many a giggle from children to adults, friends and family.  They honestly felt it was harmless good natured humor, but it affected me deeply. It made me feel vulnerable, and ashamed.  It distorted my internal vision causing me to see less of my potential and to doubt my own worth. A few years ago I was given a picture of my maternal grandmother.  I spent hours staring intently at the shape of her face the curves of her body the texture of her hair.  I caught glimpses of myself in her and I tried to recall the rare stories about her I’d listened to as a very small child.  Her name was Mabel and she too was a large lady.  Tall in staure with broad shoulders.  I am told she was very gentle and fragile in her demeanor.  I never knew her but I hear she was a big hearted hard loving woman.  In coming to know Jesus one of the greatest revelations he has given me is how much he values me.  The value he places on me has everything to do with the investment he has placed in me and nothing to do with my physical appearance, intellect or possessions.  What a relief to know that there is nothing more I need to do, achieve or become to be happy.  I’ll exchange that elusive dream, for self acceptance, not because I am too perfect to reject, but because he uses others rejection to free me from needing their approval and I embrace the peace that passes all understanding as I stay my mind on Jesus and his love for me.  These days when I think of my Grandmother I imagine her standing in heaven next to my Lord encouraging me forward in this race we call life..I can almost hear them cheering me on and I hear her say “Large and lovely that is my girl!” …and just maybe this body is a loving reminder that she came before me living, loving and creating.  As proof to the world that she was here I’ll be her legacy  a big hearted, hard loving woman living, loving and creating.  As proof to the world that Christ is here I’ll be his legacy a woman freed from the bondage of becoming perfect to resting in the love of the one who is perfect. 

Reflect on Psalm 139 and how much God loves you.

Loving you like only a mamma can,