In.SECURE{me}

I have the power to change

everything about me

that society says is not right or should not be

I am secure in me

'Cause when my naps make me feel

too much like mother Africa

I can perm them and press them down

to feel like the rest of ya

I am securely me

I don't think that I'm anywhere close to a ten

and the points I do have

do not come from what lies within

they come from

the smallness of my waist

curving out to the far regions of my back side

and the overall reaction I get

from any common attraction

Secure is in me

When it's not about my looks

It about what I can do with some books

a few degrees

and praise

Not my mind, but what my mind

can put forth

to demonstrate my intelligence

not to promote wisdom

but to promote fame

In securely me

I use to hate

the skin that I'm in

and my solution was not to love it

but convince myself

that it was just the skin

that I'm in

Not to find it beautiful

to accept it as a shortcoming

and in essence

embrace my skin as a sin

I am insecure

Everything I do I second guess it

my appearance of confidence is a clever way

not to stress it

Humility is another way to dress it

but when it all falls down

its implicit

I need security

Unfortunately I have given up my power

and now I need you

world

Cold, Cruel World

to develop a more secure

me

This is something that I

can only describe

as the. . .

In.SECURE{me}

Pretty Wings

"I came Wrong, You were right/ Transformed your love into like/ Baby believe me, I'm sorry I told you lies. . . I turned day into night, sleep till I die a thousand times/ I should have showed you better nights, better times, better days" - Pretty Wings, Maxwell

Sometimes the best solution is no solution at all. Sometimes the best thing to do, is to stop doing and to just be. Sometimes the best way to hold on. . . is to let go.

Yesterday I was driving home, after a wonderful day. I got to hang out with two very important people to me, I was able to be productive and I was happy. As I was driving, I realized that I was tired and I turned up my music and pressed "shuffle." This is usually my process when I want to listen to music I like, but not necessarily in any type of order. Which can be exciting, when it plays everything I want to hear, or not so much in the opposing situation. Regardless, every once in a while a song played that takes me back to a place I forgot was there. In this case, a few songs played that reminded me of several situations but the one that topped it off was "Pretty Wings" by Maxwell.

Why, you ask? Well, despite the fact that it is a beautiful song, I have been hurt before. Several times actually, but this "hurt" I speak of has been a slow working hurt for the past two years. It's been one that has infected my soul to the point of defacing my character, all the while it has been the cocoon that has blossomed me in the person that I love so much today. (I don't think you understand how hard it was for me to say that. . .so I'm going to say it again.) I love myself :)

Anyway, this place of "hurt" has been hidden deeper, and deeper, and deeper into me that I began to worry because I knew how I should feel but never did. I felt like God had blessed me with a state of temporary amnesia but even in the blessing, the downside was that it would eventually wear off and I would have to face this pain . . . one day. It's just that for now, it was locked inside, in a place called foolish pride. (per Janelle Monae)

Who would have known that music would be the key to my heart's worried? It was as if, it slipped in under the 200 lb securely bolted door, through the locks, past the guards and struck the chord that reminded me of my sadness. As the song began, my eyes swelled and tears streamed. I remembered the hurts, pains, lies, tears, arguments, loneliness. . .and I cried. I cried because I know it took a lot to walk away. It took a lot to let go, but somewhere in that decision I was considered by both parties.

I use to think if someone could walk away and never look back then they never wanted to be there in the first place, but recently I have been presented with another option. Sometimes people leave to give you a chance to be free. Sometimes people leave because they know that it is no longer beneficial for them to be with you in that place.

This song marked a revelation for me that someone cared enough about me to save me, Someone cared enough about me to let me go and someone cared enough to send someone magnificent in place of what I had lost. Someone cared.

. . . and I am forever grateful.

Feel Love? ♥ Love versus "in love"

How does one know that they're "In Love"?

Over the years, I have gathered a lot of information on Love from a variety of different sources; Some Ancient, i.e. The Greek forms of love, or Religious, i.e. I Corinthians 13:4, while others a little more ridiculous, i.e. Gucci Mane's song "I think I Love Her," or infallible like the movie The Notebook. Yet with all of the plays by Shakespeare that I was forced to read in high school or my many (many) crushes through out my young adolescence. . . I cannot understand why Love is such a challenging concept to grasp? And even after understanding a crumb of the very large idea of "an emotion of strong affection and personal attachment" pie, why are we then faced with the idea of being "in Love" as something different.

The most intense, detailed description award of every type of Love known and accepted (as far as I know) seems to go to the ancient Greeks with their idea of: Philia, Eros, and Agape. If you don't already know, Philia is considered "Brotherly Love," usually shared between siblings or friends. Its the happy, warm, friendly, fuzzy type of Love.

Eros is also know as "Love Erotic" which is pretty simple, with no need of too much explanation. Although some see this Love as a lesser Love; it is actually a pretty high connection between two individuals in the act of becoming one being. Overall, it is a representation of a passionate Love, which, for the lack of a better word, has been perverted.

The last and one of the most highly respected form of Love (via many different religions) is Agape, which is "Unconditional Love." Agape is described in I Corinthians 13:4 with "Love is patient. Love is kind, etc."It is a description of all of the things that Agape can come up against without changing in level or intensity.

So where does the differentiation between loving someone and being "in Love" with someone come from? Well. . . apparently no one knows. . . but on a brighter note, it is commonly believed that one's concept of being "in Love" is defined by that person.

For example, growing up, my grandparents had a pretty unique relationship in which at times my brothers and I questioned whether they were in Love. One day, I asked my Papa if he loved my grandmother and he began to laugh, he said "Shit, I feed her don't I? I let her live here, Don't I?" I laughed with him, still not really understanding how that amounted to Love but as I grew older I realized that I kinda wanted a little bit of what they had. I wanted that understanding with someone, that this is who we are and we Love each other because and in spite of. The always shared a joke that no one else was in on and I miss him dearly, as I'm sure she does as well.

With this, my quest to understand whether I too was "feeling Love" was coming to an end. I realized that I had to define what it meant to be "in Love" for me. So here goes everything. . .

"I think being "in Love" for me is when I could see myself with a million other people and none of them would fit as perfectly as you. I think for me, being "in Love" is when I want to make you feel like the only person in the world, because that's how you make me feel. I think being "in Love" for me is when I am willing to go through whatever life can bring, joys and sorrows, as long as you are by my side. For better or for worse, I think for being "in Love" for me is when I desire to be with you, wholehearted, not from a position of passion, but in that if I could have that honor. . . it would make me that happiest person in the world."

Think. Happy. Thoughts ;)

Phenomenal Woman: The Joys & Pains of Womanhood

“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies./ I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size/ But when I start to tell them,/ They think I’m telling lies./ I say,/ It’s in the reach of my arms,/ The span of my hips, /The stride of my step,/ The curl of my lips./ I’m a woman/ Phenomenally./ Phenomenal woman,/ That’s me.” – Maya Angelou

Womanhood is something that people seldom talk about. It’s almost as if, it is not deemed as important as defining manhood, but I would like to argue: What is a man without woman. . .a mother to birth him, a sister to show him all of our secrets, a wife to show him what it means to love, and a daughter to show him all of his faults? Biblically, I would argue that God saw Adam and saw that it was not good for MAN to be alone, yet he never said anything about Eve. So then why does it seem like such a lost cause, as if women don’t know who they are?

Even women seldom talk about what it means to be a woman. Recently I’ve had several shocking conversations with women who argue that they can’t deal with “females,” but don’t they know how powerful the support of women can be. Women can keep you away from that no-good-man, know just want to say, help you pick out your close, and even cry with you. Women are strong, valuable allies, and even worse enemies. Women who have sworn off other women are usually easily hurt by men because they don’t have the support system to help guard their hearts and communicate their worth.

The beautiful side of womanhood is everything that makes us women. We are caring. We have to think about how someone else feels. Even the least caring of us, have someone that we can’t stop wondering about and when we love, we love hard. There are quotes about the beauty of a mother’s love because of the extent that we are able to express that emotion. We are emotional which just means that we are more equip to deal with them. Some charge it as a weakness, when men still have the same emotions, just with less ability to deal. We are beautiful, as a collective. Regardless of your preference, you can’t argue the beauty of a woman’s make up. Some women make themselves ugly with hate, jealousy, and negativity but even she will still be beautiful in some way.

We are strong. Our bodies are equipped to birth children and still carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. I have known women who wake up before the sun rises to feed their families, just to work all day, come home, make food, and can’t get to sleep before everyone else is asleep. Womanhood is one of the examples of God’s compassion in the human race.

The ugly side is that it is no easy task to be a woman. It is no easy task to put out loads and never get back what missing. It’s not easy to have to think about people that matter, as well as the people that don’t.Nor to experience hurts and be expected to still be all of what it means to be a woman; trusting, caring, and loving. It’s not easy to have such a responsibility to others. A burden that at times makes it seems like morality was birthed from women. Regardless of the situation, a woman’s judgment on right and wrong is swayed towards the heart.

In any case, why this is, is far from my reach of understanding but Womanhood is something that is being lost in the translation of time. Women like Maya Angelou and Sojourner Truth spoke of the essence of being a woman in a way that new generations cannot understand. They spoke of the “secrets” and the power of women being a gift. Sojourner wrote “If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again?” (Ain’t I a Woman).

So why do we limit ourselves to how much attention we get from men, or how tiny our waist is, how large our breast are, or how big (or small) our behind is? Why do we limit ourselves to being a side piece, instead of waiting to be someone’s main event? Why don’t we seem to understand that not having anything hanging between our legs is considered a strength, not a weakness? Why are we still happy with being “the other woman,” knowing that another woman is in pain?

I charge you to define womanhood for yourself, as you challenge others. Men have criteria to deem men who have not reached a state of maturation as “boys,” so in the same way “girls” do not deserve the title of a woman, who stands for all of this. Womanhood is something to be earned. As women, we should hold each other to a higher standard and if we do, we may see a change in our other halves. We can’t keep complaining that there are no good men, when I’m starting to see a scarcity in decent women as well.

Think about it.