Category Archives: Accountability

Fear is deadly.

He made me laugh. He was attentive. He was cute. He was caring. He listened. Even before knowing everything, he was quick to say stop being unhappy. It didn’t hurt that he knew how to touch me properly.

I can’t say I loved him, I hadn’t known him long enough. However I did care. I wanted to see him everyday. I wanted to talk. I wanted to flirt. I wanted to smile. I wanted him to be my happy place.

Then reality hit and I was actually so unhappy in the place that I was in. I was so drained from sadness and what I thought as settling that I settled for his half step. I knew we couldn’t be more, so there wasn’t judgement on this part. But I also knew I couldn’t let my guard down. I knew I couldn’t trust him anymore than I could people of my past, as well as the person of my present. But I also knew I couldn’t give him the time because the fear that he would turn sour just like an apple shortly after being cut. It wouldn’t take long. I’m trying not to judge. I’m trying not to be too rash. I can’t change what I digested and how I feel now. Now mind you when I say I know or knew, these are things I’ve felt as we had not had enough interaction to base this on experience.

I’ve always been an all or nothing type of girl, I don’t have a clue what in between means. So I don’t ever want to be mad or loving on a man that doesn’t belong to me and has higher potential to never be. I don’t want to grow to love a man that would never love me. It is on my top ten terrified moments list. One could assume that I’ll forever be single then, I’ve accepted that as highly likely in this lifetime of mine. So on and so on…were as the day was filled with sadness and a uneasy feeling for me, I was reminded that he was ok….this was his life and my feelings were just a casualty of his war fare. It’s still not his fault and I wouldn’t dare blame him.

The saddest part of this story is that no matter how illogical this seemed my heart and my body wanted him. The small amount of naïveté that remained in my soul wanted there to be a purpose or a reason that I radiated to him. I want so badly for there to be a reason, more or less a purpose that we crossed paths. Out of all the faces I met, all the places I visited, there was this man that I met that had my soul on fire. The feeling of angst like a kid, being the first thought when I wake up….these are things that I hadn’t felt in so long. They were all things that I needed and wanted to feel way longer than I knew him.

I would have love to blame the sex, but that wasn’t it. It was great, don’t get me wrong. In all honesty that was our first date, sex. Yep, not going to skate around it like it wasn’t the purpose. But I knew it went from being just that, because I wanted to take the time to know him. It appeared to be the same. Just wanting to be in his presence so that I could tip toe through his mind and see what foundation was there.

Then I remembered I was a woman, a hurt woman. A confused woman. I was more willing to hurt myself than to let another man get the best of me. At this very moment I had to accept I was broken and I lived under a mask. Every adjective someone used to describe me, weak was never included. Neither was vulnerable. But those were the things I actually felt, include lost on that list too. See this wasn’t a matter of us being together or dating for a while and me weighing options, this was a two month span that I was terrified of watching unfold. I was terrified that I would let him in and he didn’t agree. Or he didn’t reciprocate whatever was to come. I was just shit brick little girl scared to venture away from what I had known. I based my thoughts off of rationale and past experience, I compared him to those. I ran the numbers of what was likely and highly unlikely, and I had to choose was a potential good memory worth exploring if it did process out the potential of hurt. Please believe that I took in consideration that not one thought of mine or any promise for him would guarantee any one thing. Neither of us have that power in this life.

I regretted the choices I had made already to get my head, heart and soul into its current state from all that surrounded me. The thought of potentially placing myself in another hurtful place made me shake. It made me quiver. It made me slide back into my shell, back into myself. Ideally I don’t trust people, I call myself intentionally observing behaviors so that I can identify when those are off. And for the first time in my life I feel like I may have done that a little too much to my own demise. I’ve marched and drum to a beat that is filled with caution. This now is all I know.

So what I figured out and want to share today is solely this, you can not be free if you live in fear of what could happen. We do not know our number, we do not know what is that to come. By no means do I use this as an excuse to live foolishly, but I do encourage us to live with less limitations…HELL YES! Be you. Be true to you. Be honest with you. And just fucking live! Don’t syke yourself out with fear, all we have is the 24 hours we are in now. Do the things that make your heart scream and your soul speak. You could hurt yourself walking down the street, you could hurt yourself by entrusting the wrong friend, or loving the wrong man….all things are possible so being scared that it will happen or could happen again is paralyzing you from learning or seeing something you might actually need. ✌🏾

Live Fearlessly 😘

Fragile

Frag-ile (adjective)

(of a person) not strong or sturdy; delicate or vulnerable.

You do understand it’s ok to be fragile? If not, are you superman or superwoman? Is your heart built of steel? Are you completely impenetrable of pain or hurt?

The thing about this word is that it is synonymous with weak, so there for in some sick twisted way we fight to prove or make an impression that it isn’t something we are or can be! But, my beloveds we have to learn on this path, there will always be a moment of fragility, of vulnerability, of tired, of gloom. Do not run or hide from this. Do not be ashamed and throat-check any and everyone that makes you feel as if you should be.

I’ll tell you my today and you take what you need from it. If anything at all, take that you aren’t alone.

At all times of my day, I am the rock. I am the center, I am the guard, I am the goalie. As we have previously discussed, I enjoy it so no complaints. However, we have to be clear when you are all those things to everyone, it is so desperate and important for you to keep your alignment and energy in check. If not you will be drowned by the sound of everyone’s pain.

I know this!

Right?!

Yes! I do.

But what I had to admit to myself is that I am still fragile. I had to say that shit aloud. I had to own it. I had to cry and smile while still maintaining the ambiance of my home, the openness to my friends and family, the fixer of whatever and be super mom. There was one interaction with one person that spiraled my day and it was only 9 a.m., I was unhappy. I was screaming. I was in need of my personal rescue. Other than this, I’m still in search of what that one thing is. And that’s ok, this is a marathon, not a sprint. The point is that somehow I sat here lost and looking for something that I know we all can only give ourselves.

Peace. 

See everyone’s first answer is to tell you to be thankful, be grateful. “It’ll be ok, you woke up”, they say. This may have some truth in it, but it’s not what’s needed. And its ok for you to say thank you but no thanks to surface level ass advice. If you have to demand the time to take care of yourself, DO IT! If you have to make a few people unhappy because you chose your own happiness over theirs, DO IT! I use to walk on eggshells with this person, I catered and cut off any and everything that made them feel any type of uneasiness…to give some sick sense of gratification in my pain. Because of certain titles in life, you think or have this innate feeling that is what you are supposed to do. It wasn’t until today that I saw that in its true form and understood the barriers in my life that were created because of this. Now we all have our own story and our own demons or fears or worries. None greater than the next, but all still special and meaningful in their own right. The curveball? Learning and using your own power to stand over whatever those barriers are. Take your power back. Own the past, present and what is to come!

The curveball? Learning and using your own power to stand over whatever those barriers are, isn’t easy and takes work. But for you, you must take your power back. Own the past, present and what is to come!

AND love on you first and foremost! 

Without you, those around you or the space you work towards building will fall. So today isn’t about what I can do to inspire in its entirety but what I can receive out of this energy. What change can I make to be better tomorrow? Hell, what can I do that is self-defining within the next hour? What will make the foundation stronger? I’m quite sure there will be many of times we all see a fragile or vulnerable state again. It’s life but…..if I can give you anything, this shit takes work every day and you have to live it intentionally until it’s done subconsciously.

If euphoria was easily attainable, we still wouldn’t have it because it would be too expensive for our reach.

Now we must create our own!

-MalJenJon

Eh….brothers are you sure?

You have to acknowledge your past to control your future…..I can admit that once before in life I may have been the black woman that made a black man contemplate never dating another black woman. I mean….we all have a story.  However, I also found a man that I never had to raise my voice at and I willingly submitted to his spirit…..so when I see some of these wonderful black male specimens make these belittling post of how a sister won’t be able to dream/keep/have/breath/see/think a man if she doesn’t do/fix/embody blah blah blah….in an objectified obsolete and demeaning manner 🤦🏾‍♀️

I just honestly wonder if they take accountability in why their previous situations turned out the way it did?! It’s like that old saying when you point the finger, remember you have four pointing back, type of thing. But I mean honestly….truly, whether it was 23% or 89%, do you own it within yourself before you set forth and begin to categorize, demean and stereotype all of us? 

So now I’m left with the question, what is the real issue? Not the “what we all do” problem, but what is it that you need black man? How can we help you help us? 

Now if I have kept you reading this far, understand this is in no form going to turn into an all-out-black-man-hate-fest! Nope. I love em! I love em all! Flaws, imperfections, nuances, the stance, the presence. The spirit. The soul. The King. The fighter. The father. The brother. Everything. I also am not the one who will ever tell anyone who to love, so this isn’t to bash those who choose interracial relationships either. But honestly, this is a open discussion to find a solution to a disconnect that is way too popular in what appears to only be one group of people, that I see.  

I have a good mixture of races in my circle, friends and family on social media, the one thing that is consistent and the most nerve wrecking —>>> black men are the only ones I see bash the women of their culture. Other men of other races don’t partake in this. Now again, there are a few men of every race that could go on somebody’s shit list, but they aren’t overstating and oversharing this hate at the same rate. I also think this is an “American” thing, because out of every person I know that was born out of the states or whose family traveled here….I’ve never heard them talk that way. Random post and videos I’ve seen in conduct vs content, still not delivered the same. Hell even when I’m trolling through comments, which I like to call research 😉 it’s just not there. Now I’m not naive to think it never happens, but it’s in a private personal setting…that Bullshit locker room talk as they call it. Other than Donald Trump, it’s not shared a million times on Facebook or made a meme and posted on Twitter. 

Recently I came across a fan page for this lady, who shall remain nameless….mainly because I can’t remember it and also due to how crazy she was. My skin boiled at the foolishness she spewed. But also she’s literally batshit crazy, SERIOUSLY and I don’t have the time for my pictures made into memes floating around on  Facebook, cause look after I went through her page….I found out what she did to those who questioned her ideals <please insert laughing emoji twenty times here, and thank you 😂> 

Ok back to the point here, this particular page has a following of roughly 15k black women all over the nation. It shocked the hell out of me. Everything that was shared or said, basically was a black woman confirming every stereotype and stating black women deserved the treatment received in life by anyone for something so simple as “we historically blow our noses the wrong way”.  Is your face as confused as mine? I hope so. Oh but the best part…the best part was a video of black men stating their love of black women and why. Now some reasons could have been left out, it was over-sexualized just a bit towards the end in my opinion….however in her opinion, the title said that it was a DISGUSTING public expression of any desire for a black woman. It is emasculating the black man in a way. Hmmm. (Please insert a face palm right here, right now…cause shit I really tried to get it, I gave up) Oh but if you don’t believe me that this bullshit exist, Here’s a few other random snapshots from random post and stories I’ve read. 

Oh but my favorite of all….this exchange that started after this. 


See this shit here is the mysoginst self hate mindset that some black men have that I don’t understand. You can’t hate something that made you, ya dig? It’s like being mad you woke up but thanking God for grace. So do you want to live or nah? Naturally by a man making these type of statements, his entire mindset is a lost contradiction of hurt and insecurities to any sane and rational person creeping on the internet. Oh and this by far is NOT a black womans fault or job for all black women to fix. And going as far as to label us all into this group of worthless whores with bad attitudes, makes me question what his mom did to him honestly…but I digress. 
Undeniably we, the black woman/mother/sister/lover/friend/enemy-of-state have a want to fix it, statistically we marry black men more often than not. It’s a factor of social behavior for any race though. However we are the ones that get the public humiliation in articles in major magazines justifying how we aren’t fit for marriage. Yet we are responsible for fixing ourselves in hopes of the basket to love us. How black man, how?! 

Now this is the thing, we have so many generational curses that have to be broken in our culture and communities, for us to see that we are the biggest problem to each other and at the same time the greatest benefactors of each other. However by some black men taking this open and public stance it allows for other women of other races to feel superior and publicly belittling black women, as well as black women to feed into this mentality and just settle for anything under the guise we aren’t worthy as a whole. The list of “gotta haves” are ridiculous and insecurities hiding out in guises of having standards. 

Pandering mammies belittle black women who dare to combat misogynoir. Pandering mammies are the first to shut black women down. Pandering mammies are often filled with toxic masculinity. I was a pandering mammy. 

Creighton Leigh 

Theurbantwist.com 


We get to this point were if no ones fighting for us, we will fight for ourselves. We have to stand up for him and us. We have to be the bread winner and make the bread. We have to be soft but also be a bad bitch. We have to be the punching bag, figuratively and literally at times, because he isn’t happy with some minuscule  circumstance of life that he has ever power to change with a cheerleader in his side, or because his emotional and mental baggage is the true holster of his gun. It’s sadly viewed whether publicly stated or not, like the guy stated in the post from Facebook….we are a product. We are an object. We are a stepping stone. We are the right now but not the future. We are too weak yet to strong. We are just like every other woman, but we don’t get the same chance or fight. 

I just speak for the majority of black sisters I know, love who you want….but fight for me the way I fight for you. Speak life into me and help me see my femininity so that I’m not just “strong” for you, but a soft and safe place for you, our family, our community and our culture. Stop relabeling me of something demeaning to go to a cool beat in a rap song and for the world to see. Quit using me to fix you, while tearing me apart in the process. Admire my beauty, strength, weakness and vulnerability like the peace you seek. 
Nobody is perfect, everyone has flaws. This isn’t a fight for whose perfect or right, it’s a plea to preserve an endangered species being killed off by its own kin. 

I’ll make this personal in closing, I am submissive to my man because he is my safe place. Every man before him, would call me crazy. Seriously. I’ve heard it. He has never, not to my face at least. He will encourage me and call me on my shit, but love me and guide me to be better. He makes me feel like every part of me was made perfectly. However, We are not perfect and he damn sure does not coddle me at every whim and bump, but he fights to bring peace to my soul. This doesn’t mean he is present for every stick I stumble across, but he’s made me so empowered and secure…he’s present even in his absence. He taught me to follow, because he walked in his power as a leader. He is a fighter. He is the head. He is the protector. He is the overseer of the jungle. In return, when I speak to him, I am overflowing with the feminine energy needed to balance this equation out. I breath life into him in every interaction and make sure he has his own safe place. The point is if we do not have meaningful exchanges on a higher plane than physicality and momentarily, we are just existing and continuing the cycle. 

Positivity breeds greatness, but sadly negativity is infectious and contagious in a more powerful way. When you live in your power those who interact with you can’t help but to transform. But eh what do I know, I’m just out here walking this walk and raising two powerful black men with a great black man next to me 😉

Happy living beloved! 🙌🏾😘