When it hurts so bad

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and that may be true, but one can't believe everything they see. Take this photograph for instance.  Here I am with the love of my life, celebrating the expectant birth of my first child.  The room was overflowing with people who loved and supported me...who supported us. Our baby was lavished with gifts and when it was all over we packed up our car and went home. I checked the answering machine (the home phone hadn't quite phased out yet) like I always did and a woman's voice came on. I don't remember what the message said, but I do recall telling my child's father I didn't want that woman calling our home again. I confronted him about it and was met with the same reaction I'd always gotten from him when things didn't go his way. I was 7 months pregnant and not in any condition to fight so I told him we should both just calm down and leave the issue alone. Needless to say he wasn't having that. A fire had been ignited and he was determined to give me what I was “asking” for. I walked off going towards our bedroom trying to get away and be left alone. As soon as I turned my back I felt a pang in my scalp. My boyfriend (who is now my ex-husband) grabbed my hair by the handful. He began screaming at me calling me every bitch in the book. I broke loose ran to the bedroom and locked the door. This only incited his rage. “Didn't I tell you about locking the motherf***ing door!” he yelled before he literally knocked the door off the hinges for the second time. Honestly everything that occurred after that is a blur. The only thing I remember after that was standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror at my busted lip and the huge bald spot I had in the middle of my head. I looked at my reflection thinking what had I done to deserve this? Is this really an environment I want my child too grow up in; which consequently had also been the type of environment I grew up in. I emerged from the bathroom and was met by boyfriend who had made an icepack for my lip. He then coddled me and explained to me how it was my fault that things got out of hand because I had disrespected him. I should had never raised my voice to him (smh). I told myself that after he left to go to work that night I'd leave. I'd grab the bag I had hidden away in the closet and return home to go live with my mama and my sister. I'd get as far away as I could and start over. But the other voices would creep in. "Who's gonna want a woman with a baby? You'll be another statistic, a typical black woman with a baby daddy. And you'll have a child growing up without a father just like you did; and look how your life turned out."  and so...I stayed. And for the next 12 years I endured the abuse (verbal, physical, and mental) feeling so trapped that finally I concluded my only way out was death, and it most definitely was not going to be mine.

According to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence on average, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States. During one year, this equates to more than 10 million women and men. That means 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men have been victims of [some form of] physical violence by an intimate partner within their lifetime. And more than 20,000 phone calls are placed daily to national abuse hotlines (ncadv.org/statistics).

As staggering as those numbers are those closest to the abused usually don't have a clue as to what is happening. My immediate family lived far away so the news of the abuse was a complete shock to them; my closest friends however sort of had a clue. My behavior had changed, and it wasn't just due to my new role as a parent. Before I met my abuser, my friends and I would hang out at each others’ apartments or go to happy hour together. After meeting him those things quickly changed. He had convinced me that my friends were nothing and no one in comparison to him. According to him, they didn't “give a f**k” about me and they were “trash” who weren't allowed in our home. I was so in love (and so hellbent on not being a statistic) that I was willing to do whatever it took to make my relationship last, praying every night that he would change, and change he did. With each passing year the abuse grew more intense and more frequent. I would tell myself things like, “He'll change when the baby comes,” “Once the baby gets older he'll stop because no one would act like this in front of their child.” and my go-to excuse was, “Once we get married he’ll stop because no one would treat their wife this way.”   As if somehow my change in status would make a difference.  I have to laugh as I write this. I spent so much time waiting on a person to change instead of firmly putting my foot down from day one. Our first date he refused to open the car door for me. I asserted myself, made a little fuss, but he replied “That's stupid. The door already unlocked. That's what alarms are for.” I opened my door, got into the car.  I tried a few more times to get him to bend, but he held steadfast in his refusal to open my car door.  Once I gave in to that I believe it sparked the idea for him to see how controlling he could be, and what I would actually comply with. I mean literally with every guy I dated up until him I was adamant about him opening my car door, and if you didn't we would never go out again. I felt it was an issue of chivalry, and common decency; however,  instead of trying to get an understanding of where I was coming from he shot the notion down because it wasn't an act HE wanted to do. In hindsight I can now recognize so many red flags, but when you're dealing with a narcissistic manipulator it's hard to see the forest for the trees. And I never really told anyone because I was too embarrassed.

This isn't my entire story, however it's a snapshot of my[former] life that I pray will help someone else. I'm currently divorced and after 12 grueling years of living in fear and chaos I'm finally “reclaiming my time” so to speak. I've made a conscious effort to reconnect with those friends I neglected. I've begun a career in education and I'm currently working on my Master's of Arts in Psychology. If you have a friend whom you feel is an abusive relationship please don't shun or dismiss them for not confiding in you or leaving the relationship. Being a victim of domestic abuse is similar to that of being an addict; for the simple fact that you aren't going to leave until you finally hit your rock bottom.  And many times children of domestic violence are 3 times more likely to get into abusive relationships themselves. These individuals (myself included) are so conditioned to observing domestic violence that it becomes seen as a relational norm. If you feel you may be in an abusive relationship please call a domestic violence hotline. And know that as long as you stay, it won't get better.

Peace and blessings.

Signs of abuse: https://ncadv.org/signs-of-abuse

For anonymous, confidential help, 24/7, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or  1-800-787-3224 (TTY).

Shut Up!

A while ago on Facebook, I posted about the story of Ruth, and I focused on how she worked and positioned herself in order to attract Boaz.

I also want to point out that while in her "single season" Ruth did not (as far as we know) gripe about being single. This brought to my attention that although publicly I try not to gripe, privately, with friends and family, I often times speak on my desire for a mate. God knows fully well that I desire a husband. He knows what's in my heart. As single Christian women/men one must have absolute trust that Jehovah knows what's best for us and has our best interest at heart. Even if that means we never marry [again]. I however have full faith that I will remarry; not just because it is my desire but because an elder prayed this prayer for me without me even asking. Single people of God we have to learn to be quite, and to be still. We have to learn to fully trust God and his timing. What was supposed to take the Israelites 11 days took them 40 years because they couldn't keep their mouths closed.

So part of my advice to single Christians is to SHUT UP!  Not only are other people probably tired of hearing you gripe, but God is too. He knows what he has in store for you. Shut your mouth, trust God, get yourself right while you wait, serve God; and take the counsel of wise elders. Ruth obeyed Naomi. She didn't question, she didn't go ask her peers. She followed the advice of a godly elder.

Look I know it's hard and often times lonely being single. And if you're a single parent the angst intensifies. But be diligent about the work of God, be fervent about the work of God, honor Him, trust Him, remain obedient and in time your single season will pass.

Peace and blessings.

The end of an Era

On my way to work this morning as I listened to my pastor (Pastor Jackie Martin) preach on Paul and the "thorn" in his side. She spoke on how afflictions are made to humble us and grow us closer to God. It was at that exact moment I was rear ended and hit the car in front of me. My car is totaled but I'm alive and well, and thank God my children weren't with me. I got teary eyed as I saw the damage done to my vehicle. I didn't cry because I was sad. That car represented the first thing I bought after emancipation from my spouse. It was a triumph, a stepping stone into regaining my self confidence. But now I guess this is God's way of telling me that season has come to an end and a new one has begun.

Single Season

As my divorce draws near I'm finally learning to embrace my season of singleness (accompanied by my season of celibacy which is another blog in itself). I'll be the first to admit that divorce is a pain greater than death, but through all the heartache and pain there is a silver lining.

I'm learning to make the most of this time and do things I've always wanted to do followed with things I'd never imagined I could do. This evening I actually went to happy hour [dare I say] alone. Last year I could not have imagined such a feat. To sit alone...at a table...in public...and eat. Oh the horror! But when I tell you that not only did I sit, eat, and drink by myself; I also sang along to every song I knew, and in Spanish at that! Elvis Crespo's Suavemente never sounded so good.

To anyone who's going through a divorce or has left a toxic relationship please know it gets better. Life gets better, and that agonizing gaping pain you feel in your chest will subside. I'm not saying what I think, or what I've heard, I'm telling you what I know. The thing is that healing begins with you. Rebirth begins with you. No one can make you do it, you have to decide when you've finally had enough of lying in the bed drowning in your sorrow and tears. When you've had enough of stumbling in a drunken stupor daily, and when you've had enough of just going through the motions and existing instead living. You'll get up. You'll live again. You'll feel comfortable dining alone. And prayerfully one day you'll love again.

Peace and Blessings

You are What You Speak

https://youtu.be/PAJcMmyFCEg

Many in white America won't stop seeing us (African Americans) as disposable until we stop seeing each other as the enemy. This scene from Spike Lee's cult classic School Daze is profound on so many levels.

How'd we go from calling each other "brother and sister" to "nigga, and b--ch, and hoe"? And then say it's a sign of love, friendship, and camaraderie. Most of us wouldn't refer to our parents and elders that way, because we know it's disrespectful. So why are we so free to use it with our peers?  Our slave ancestors called other slaves "nigga" because that's what our opressors called us. It was a manipulative tool to divide us.  And it worked. Here we are hundreds of years later using the terms of our oppressors and have fooled ourselves into thinking it's a good thing.

Well I tell you what. If using the words "nigga" and "b**ch" and "hoe" aren't dehumanizing refer to your parents and children and grandparents that way. Speak it over your children's lives everyday. Tell your son he's a smart nigga, and your daughter she's such a bright b**ch. Tell your son you're so proud of the nigga he's become; and let your daughters know that black hoes rock, and that they are filled with black b**ch magic.

We have to watch our tongues, for it holds the power of life and death. What you consistently speak to a person is what they will believe and what they will eventually become.

*****Warning***** harsh language.
https://youtu.be/PAJcMmyFCEg

Vision Board Party

It's been on my to-do list for years but I'm finally going to complete the task of completing a vision board, and I'm extending an invitation to the VISION BOARD PARTY.

Many of us make New Year's Resolutions, but why not make mid year resolutions? Fall is swiftly approaching and 2016 will be coming to a close. Why not spend this month focusing on our plans and goals now? We can enter 2017 focused, and already moving towards our mark.

I'm asking that throughout the month of September we construct our vision boards. I'm an avid believer in visualization, and the law of attraction. I'd love to see your boards and hear how your goals were manifested into reality.

Land of the Free?

So Gabby Douglas didn't place her hand over her heart during the National Anthem. Who gives a crap? And how is this "Un-American" or disrespectful? I stopped saying the Pledge of Allegiance back in 1998 or 99. I sometimes stand out of respect for others but it's my right as an American who lives in a free country to not salute the flag if I choose. How can we live in a country that is a melting pot of cultures and prides itself on all its liberties and then criticize others for exercising their rights and liberties? Instead of America being the land of the free and the home of the brave its motto should be land of the double standard and home of the confused.

525,600 Minutes

As I pack to move I'm filled with mixed emotions. I feel anxious, relieved, excited...Before, my life was stagnant and I felt lost and without hope. Now it seems things are on an upward trajectory. My life is changing (personally and professionally) I'm taking more chances and the goals that I've set have become reality. I swear the past three years I've felt like my life was a mix between a Lifetime drama and a Tyler Perry movie; I'm in awe how I didn't succumb to the madness. All I can say is what a difference a year can make. Last year I wrote an entry titled "And This Too Shall Pass". Next year who knows what story I may have to tell. I can only anticipate that it's going to be something great.

James 2:26
As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.

Giving Birth to your Pain

As women I believe we are subconsciously taught to put on a brave face. So often we face insurmountable amounts of pain and let downs, but we keep everything to ourselves all bottled up inside and we just deal with it. Many mask their pain with alcohol, prescriptions, overeating, compulsive shopping, but on the inside you are dying and you just don't know how to cope with the issue you are facing.

As I face my own trials and tribulations God revealed to me an analogy that I pray will help other women. He showed me that trials are like giving birth. The pain is great. In many times the pain is unbearable but you can't stop pushing. You continue to push because you know that the result of your pushing is a beautiful gift on the other side, and if you stop pushing that beautiful gift could possibly die. You may have been given medication so that the pain is numbed but you must still endure the process of labor. Some labors are quick, and yet some are so long they seem like they may never end. But you stay strong and you stay committed to the birthing process.

If you lost your job...keep pushing. Your husband left...keep pushing. You didn't get the house you wanted...keep pushing. You didn't get the promotion...keep pushing. You didn't get the loan for your small business...keep pushing. You failed that course...keep pushing. I assure you what hurts now is only giving birth to something beautiful. Don't give up! Don't give in! Continue to labor, something beautiful is on the other end of your pain.

Time Is on My Side

Every woman has that one female friend who seems more like a robot than a person.  Her kids are impeccably dressed, she makes breakfast for her family every morning, she makes it in to work early, she prepares dinner, serves in her church and community, and still finds time to craft, blog, and find some odd entrepreneurial way to establish a supplemental income. You love her, but you know that you are a slovenly sloth in comparison.

As I've gotten older I've learned not to compare myself to others (as much), but I am curious to the behaviors of successful women. I'm lucky if I can manage a quiet moment to myself before 10:00pm, so how can I possibly conquer all the goals and tasks I've assigned to myself? The key is quite simple...TIME MANAGEMENT. After much thought I've come up with my five methods for effective time management.

1. BUY A PLANNER
Yeah I know, planners are so 1999; but seriously if you use them they work. A basic calender from any dollar store will do. They're great for jotting down appointments and meetings.

2. PLAN AHEAD WEEKLY
Yes that's right, "weekly". Making a to-do list is essential to completing everyday monotonous tasks. I can not tell you how many doctor's appointments have gone overdue all because I thought I would remember to make the phone call. You're already pre occupied enough throughout the day, and by the time you remember to set your appointments you're three months past due for your papsmear. Making a list and checking it twice will ensure that you get the little things done. For me nighttime is the perfect time to orchestrate my list. I find a nice comfortable quiet place in the house, pour myself a glass of wine, and cozy up on the sofa with my legal pad and planner. You high tech individuals can feel free to use your BlackBerry or PDA or whatever the newest technological device may be.

3. PUT YOUR PHONES DOWN
Remember the good old days when all your phone could do was make phone calls? We waste countless hours mindlessly rummaging through the mass amounts of apps and social media on our cell phones. One quick "double tap" turns into 2 hours of replying, liking, and screenshots of memes. Lately I've taken up the practice of not visiting any social media sites until 6pm. I will admit it hasn't been easy (I fell off the wagon today) but when I stick to the plan I find that I get so much more accomplished. The first day I started I actually read the newspaper, how retro.

4. SET REALISTIC GOALS
We often get swept away with the idea of being all that we can be. We want to be the absolute best employees, wives, and mothers giving everyone 100% of ourselves and making sure no one goes without. STOP DOING THAT! No one can do it all not even Oprah. If you've never ran a mile in your life, don't think you're going to get up and do it tomorrow. Instead start with a 30 min walk and over time work your way up to the run.

And most importantly...
5. GO TO BED EARLY
We all know the saying, "Early to bed, early to rise." Adequate rest not only ensures you'll wake up more energized and refreshed, it's also great for cell regeneration (that means less wrinkles ladies).

Keep in mind these are just my best practices. And although I'm not as successful as I aspire to be, if I'm disciplined and stick to my time management plan I will be.

***A goal without a plan is just a wish.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
French writer (1900 - 1944)   

And This Too Shall Pass

So I was encouraged by a friend to blog about the new journey in my life. As some of you may know within the last year my relationship status has  gone from dangerously in love to me,myself, and I. Well not really me, myself, and I. More like me, myself, and two kids. But to quote Forrest Gump, "...life is like a box of chocolates..." screw it, you know the rest.

So here I am 34, single, and attempting to go back to school. I've actually begun my training for my teacher's certification. Sometimes when I'm studying I think to myself, "I'm actually studying to be a teacher!" The thought is completely surreal because all my life I was told that I should teach. And my response was always the same, "Ugh, a teacher?! Teacher's are overworked and underpaid; I'll never be a teacher." Even after teaching Sunday school for two years I still ignored the calling on my life. And yet here I am. I'm convinced that this entire plot was preordained, and as much heartbreak I've been through, I would have never stepped out on faith and embark on the journey I'm now on had it not been for life being a cruel bitch.

So I'm here,nonetheless, and I'm excited to see where my new journey leads me. I hope your are too because I plan on filling you in from time to time about where life is taking me.

Peace and blessings.

GLASS HOUSES

I'm sick and tired of people criticizing Christians and referring to our faith and beliefs as brainwashing. Just because a person does not believe what you may believe does not make them “brainwashed" or “unenlightened".

So many people criticize the Christian faith, and yet do not make any attempt to read the Bible, Quran, or Torah and discern for themselves. But you'll faithfully tune in to VH1on Monday nights watching garbage on a plasma/LED tv that you used your income tax refund to get, or worse yet, it's a set that you're “renting to own".

You point your finger at a person's way of life, but you yourself do not invest in your family, home, or community. You emasculate your men, and refuse to educate your children. You dress your young daughters up like whores, and you cling to your fatherless sons, using them as a scapegoat for your lack of romantic love, and male companionship. You tell your children that it is okay to lay down with someone, plant a seed, and then just walk away. “I don't need a man! " you say. You nor your children know anything about saving, and investing to leave a legacy. You don't teach your children the importance of being healthy and honoring their mind and body. You don't teach your children how to use the natural resources that God has provided, so that you may be self sufficient, because you yourself do not know. These are all things that I have learned and understand from my Bible, and my religion. So instead of picking up a book, you surf social media, and invest your time in pop culture, allowing them to tell you how you should live your life.

You say that the Christian is judgemental and yet you're the one who refers to them as lost or stupid,

I view all this talk of religious brainwashing as prejudice. A person chooses to believe what they want, the manipulation comes from the messenger, not the message.  If you do not believe in the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, so be it. But I'm not going to label you a Neanderthal, just as you shouldn't label the believer a zealot.

I know that many Christians come across as self righteous, but honestly a lot of the non believers do too. We need to learn to first respect and honor one another as human beings, and then share what we believe in love. Allow ourselves to have discussions instead of one-sided hate debates.

Truth without love is brutality, and love without truth is hypocrisy. -Warren Wiersbe

PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS

By now we are all quite familiar with the remarks made by LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling, and recently Mark Cuban (owner of the Dallas Mavericks) has made a few "racist" remarks of his own.  I've tried my best to hold my tongue about both situations and keep my opinions to myself, but it seems every where I turn I am bombarded with memes, radio broadcasts, and news shows pertaining to these two powerful men.  I personally have grown quite irritated with the whole thing.  I'm not irritated at the fact the these men made the comments; what irritates me is the number of African Americans who are outraged by the opinions and ideals possessed by these men.  It's as if Black people have forgotten that racism still exists.  Does racism have to be as blatant as a white hood and a burning cross for young African Americans to realize that there is still a vast number of white Americans (and other ethnic groups) who are bigots?  The fact that we have a Black President does not magically erase the 250 years of slavery nor 90 plus years of Jim Crow.  It's called "conditioning" and many White Americans have been conditioned to feel a sense of entitlement and superiority towards other races, especially those of African descent.  I'm sure these are not the only people of power who feel the way they do about their employees and consumers.  I personally wish that more of the elite 1% would come clean about their racism.  I'm curious to see what we (as African Americans) would do as the nation's number one consumer.  From what I've seen we will do nothing.  Sure we will rant and rave, and post to social networks, but what difference does that really make?  If you really want to make these men (and others like them) know that the African American public will not stand to be viewed as a commodity, stop supporting their brands and buying their products.

Here is a cold hard fact. Racism will never disappear as long as we keep feeding into the idiosyncrasies of what it is to be Black.  So many of our people are feeding into racial stereotypes in a effort to "keep it real".  Enough is enough already!  We are more than a nation of saggy pant wearing, rapping, booty clapping, jiggaboos.  So I say particularly to my young African Americans, stop buying into these ideals of what it means to be Black, and furthermore African Americans have got to let go of the "house nigger" mentality.  Massah takes us in his house, feeds us his scraps, let us sleep at the foot of his bed, and he will even plant his seed in the wombs of African American women.  And from these actions the house nigger thinks, "Why Massah must love me, cause he treats me just as good as his dog."  And it is because of this exact mentality that all our people will do is get mad and take to our social networks, instead of hitting these racist tycoons in their pockets, where it really hurts.

Gil-Scott Heron wrote that "The revolution will not be televised." maybe that is because the revolution will never exist.

 

A THING OF THE PAST

Earlier this week my five year old and I took one of our routine trips to the library.  While searching the shelves we stumbled across a small section of read-a-long books.  Feeling nostalgic I eagerly asked if she wanted to get one, she replied, "Sure, why not?" I proceed to ask which book she would like, while she examines the contents of the bags, she points to an item and asks, "What's that?"  To my surprise she was pointing to the hot pink cassette tape located in the package.  I burst into laughter at the thought of a child not knowing what a cassette tape was.  We proceeded to check out and went about our day; but that solitary moment of the question of the cassette tape resonated in my brain.  I remember when I was in high school listening to the radio and making mix tapes, and here is my child, who is bewildered by this apparatus.  Is this what it has come to?  Has the cassette tape become vintage, antiquated, a thing of the past?  Twenty years from now will we find them in our museums? 

Today's cyber savvy world is moving at the speed of light.  I myself wonder how my generation survived without the use of a DVD player.  And now there's Blu-Ray whose picture quality is practically holographic.  My first cell phone was a Nokia flip phone with a wood grain, and I didn't get that until I was 19.  Fast forward (a mere) 13 years, and you have Smart phones, IPads, IPods, and Notebooks which all essentially perform the same functions, but I know people who own multiple devices, and aren't the least bit smarter for possessing them.  If anything I would argue the idea that these high tech gadgets aid in making us less clairvoyant. I personally do not know my own home telephone number, and if it wasn't for the necessity of the internet I wouldn't have a home phone.  But is the internet really a necessity?  As a child I performed all my book reports with actual books, and encyclopedias, not Wikipedia.  Sure the lack of  cut and paste made the work tedious, however I learned more in the process.

How is today's young person expected to truly excel when many think TTYL is an actual word?  (That's "Talk to you later" for my older readers.)  The need for a dictionary has become obsolete thanks to predictive text.  As technology increases, our society's intelligence decreases, because we rely  on technology to do all the thinking for us.  The age of the letter is no more, it has been replaced with texting, and Facebook. No longer is there a need to call someone and ask about their weekend, simply check their Twitter or Instagram.  You may even be able to recount the event with Vine, and the newly added InstaCam.  Critical thinking, and verbal communication are slowly diminishing, and being replaced with the coldness and callousness of social media, and many are buying into the idea of it all.  No amount of Facebook friends, or "Tweethearts" can replace the need for physical and emotional contact.  Once that device is turned off many are disconnected from the world, and have to face the fact that they are actually alone, and for many that is a hard truth to swallow, and so they stay online hooked up and plugged in yet simultaneously disconnected from those things that are real. 

DO CLOTHES REALLY MAKE THE (WO)MAN?

 

By now we are all familiar with the symbol of the hoodie and why so many have begun to adorn one.  The hoodie (as of late) has become a symbol of injustice, or that of a thug.  It is amazing how one article of clothing could emit such a negative message,however, this got me to thinking.  What exactly does our clothing reveal about our personalities, our likes, our dislikes, our ethics and moral values; what does your clothing reveal about you?

It seems that as times have progressed women’s hems have gotten shorter and their necklines have plunged further; while many of today’s men prefer to wear their denim as tight as most women.  So what does wearing your clothes in such a manner reveal about who you are?  Is it safe to assume that a scantily dressed female is a whore, or that a man who wears skinny jeans is a homosexual?  Our fashion sense is heavily influenced by music and celebrity culture.  Many opt to wear a certain style because their favorite musician or celebrity dons the same thing.  The bikini shocked people when it emerged on French beaches in 1947, but soared to popularity when shown worn by pinup girls such as Rita Hayworth, Ava Gardner, and Lana Turner. If you are familiar with the television program “My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding” you would take note of the very provocative nature in which these women dress (many of whom are adolescents) looking more like strippers, than children; however many of these young women remain virgins until marriage.  If a woman is raped does her attire play a role in circumstance, or should “no means no” stand?Is it fair to assume that a man who wears baggy jeans and Jordans is a thug, even if he has no criminal record or has never held a firearm? There are certain states here in America that issue a fine up to $500 fine for sagging your jeans. Where should the line between personal expression and indecent exposure be drawn?

As children we are told to never judge a book by its cover; so the premise of categorizing someone merely based upon they way they are dressed is a complete contradiction of that adage. It seems a loss to categorize a person based upon what they have on, before you have the opportunity to speak and meet with them.  I for one am a firm believer in dressing appropriately for your age,body type, and occasion; however, to totally dismiss someone or generalize a person based upon their attire is prejudice. We have to learn to see people as individuals, because a person is more than just the clothes they wear. 

Fad-u-lous

This week I received my much anticipated copy of Redbook magazine. I was immediately taken in by the cover story; no not the one about how Rebecca Romijn got a flat belly after twins; the cover story about the 31 Greatest haircuts of all time. I opened to haircut feature first thing. Upon first sight the glossy pullout page was quite eye catching; but with closer examination I noticed that the majority of the haircuts featured were of Caucasian women. This got me to thinking about the celebrities who've influenced my hairstyles over the past three decades. I began to look through old photos of myself, and being that I haven't taken the time to put them in a photo album, there were quite a few. My earliest hair memory was 4th grade, it was at that I washed out my Jheri Curl and my mother decided she would no longer comb my hair; I had to get up every morning before school and do it myself. It was the 1987, and Salt N Peppa's "Push It" ruled the airwaves. I was fascinated with their stack curls, asymmetrical cuts, and Peppa's blonde tresses. I practiced with my own hair daily, using my curling iron to form four rows of neatly stacked curls, only to use my claw comb and tease them apart. I would gaze at my reflection in the mirror pleased with my efforts. I even begged my mother to dye my hair blonde, but she repeatedly refused. My box cut with stack curls and teased bangs made me feel mature and confident. My hair was never long so wearing my hair in a short popular hairstyle gave me a boost of confidence. My Salt N Peppa elementary school days passed, and in 1993 I entered middle school, it was within that same year I saw the movie Poetic Justice and Janet Jackson debuted her "Dookie Braids". It was also at that time I fell madly in love with Tupac Shakur, but that's a story for another day...back to Janet. Yes the braids, up until then the public had only seen Janet sporting a weave, giving her a look that appealed to the mainstream media. But those braids, they were everything. Never before had Janet looked so real, so relateable, so...so...so... much like a young black girl like me! Those braids gave Janet an edge, a sort of street cred, and I had to have them too, but I hadn't a clue how to obtain such a look. Little did I know that one of my aunts had a friend who showed her and my aunt could then practice what she had learned on me. I sat on a pillow on a floor for literally hours, my butt and legs going numb, but I did not care. When my aunt was done I looked in the mirror and was in complete awe of the image that stood before me. I mean sure I had braids and beads as a kid, but I had never had anything like this. It seemed dookie braids was an overnight solution to my short hair crisis. But as great and versatile having braids was, they couldn't be worn forever. Once my braids were taken down I went into what I like to call the "Mushroom Era", which due to rising innovations in microwave ponytails didn't last long. As high school progressed, so did my hair styles. I alternated between braids, to short cuts, to weave ponytails, and even went as far as to wearing a fade with a texturizer. With each new celebrity reveal, emerged a new look. After high school I left home and went to college, and while I failed to obtain my degree in business, I gained a Masters in weaveology. I rocked every sort of weave, ponytail, braid, and up-do imaginable. I went from blonde to jet black in a semesters time. My hair was fried, died and laid to the side, it took a brutal beating. All the relaxers, and dyes, and braids left my hair a shambled mess. So it was with a mustered courage I took the plunge and got a "freedom cut." I felt strong, confident, and for the very first time, I felt like a woman. I currently wear my hair in locs (which I refuse to call "dread locs") and I love them. My hair is healthy and growing at a pace I never knew it could. I thought having locs would limit my styling efforts, but it's quite the opposite. I've roller set my locs for a curly look, and I've recently gotten my tips dyed. This hair of mine has been through some changes and my...the stories it could tell. I'm pretty much set on the look I have and wouldn't change it for the world. My five year old on the other hand is obsessed with Nikki Minaj, and is set on dying her hair pink when she becomes a teenager...I'm already dreading the fourth grade.

MIDNIGHT MADNESS

Due to my current unemployment situation I have had a lot of free time on my hands...well as much free time a married mother of two can have.  My current employment status has allowed me the time I've been craving to begin new projects, and to complete the ones I had permanently filed away on my "to do" list. 

My first project came to me in the middle of the night.  It started as a whisper that quickly grew into a resounding crescendo in my brain..."Upcycle...DIY".  What did these words mean?  "Go to your closet." I obeyed the voice mostly out of curiosity.  What would I possibly find in a closet adorned with pre-pregnancy apparel? 

As I examined my closet's contents I saw it...the Holy Grail of DIY projects...a previously upcycled denim shirt I converted into a vest.  What to do...what to do..I can't sew.  How could I improve upon a garment (that I am quite proud of I may add), without spending any cash; and then it hit me...BLEACH TIE-DYE.  Eureka!  I had found a solution to both my midnight boredom and a way to silence that maddening "resounding crescendo".  I watched a few YouTube videos for research before tucking myself in.

The next day I woke up with great expectation, I gathered all my supplies and attempted my bleaching project.  I didn't measure anything, I simply winged it, and although it did not turn out the way I had envisioned, I must say I like it, and I hope you do too.