Every Woman Needs a Woobie~

Woobies & the soft side~

Woobies & the soft side~

Positive Propaganda:  Black Women are Vulnerable~

OK…first of all I’m sitting here shocked and amazed that I’m writing this post, as it was not planned, but that’s how Spirit works.

MOVE! 

Lol!

So a sister C.A.T. has been feeling some sort of way, lately.  About life.

We’ve all been there.  It’s human.  It’s UNIVERSAL.  Yet it feels so deeply personal when the opportunity to FEEL finds you.

And we as black women have for so long run from this feeling of, well…feeling. 

The desire to let go…cry…talk…purge…giggle…laugh…and giggleandlaugh until you cry again.  And then smile.

We don’t give ourselves that “luxury” enough.  To receive that human need, enough.

Ish. hurts!!

Yeah, I said it!

Stuff happens in life that literally takes your breath away, and requires that you sit down and look it straight in the face.  And as black women, we do…more often that not, we do. 

But it’s what we don’t do enough of next that spawned this post:

We don’t STOP. 

We keep moving.  Trudging along, eyes straight ahead, being “the strong black woman” instead of doing what all of the softness of who we are REQUIRES of us - that we FEEL IT completely – walk to and through it, and heal it. 

By being soft and vulnerable, and quiet, so that afterward (and only afterward) we can smile.  And it’s over.  And we move forward to live another great experience on this spiral of life. all the sweet and the sour; sugar and mess.

We need this sisters. 

We need to let ourselves see ourselves…see REALITY…and act accordingly.  And I’ve found the best way to assist in this effort is

*drum roll*

The Woobie.

:-)

You can see one of my current woobies peeking out in the pic above (and “Hi”, C.A.T. sisters!  *waving* )  ;-)

My woobie has been through it:  good times, bad times, stains, rips, triumphs, failures, extasy and agony.  You betcha. 

Every.  woman.  needs.  a woobie.

What’s your favorite woobie?  Are they friendships?  Girlfriends? (they make the BEST woobies), your grandmother, or your mom?  Is it your puppy or your *le gasp* cat or kitten? 

Is it texting that ladyfriend whom you know will say just. the right. thing. at just. the right. time. to make it all better, and who you know knows you down to your socks and a peek of your soul?

Tell them.  Let it out! 

Is it your journal?  I also write when I’m walking through a challenge, and recently forgot about that as a passion and a release.

And then I picked up my journal (I have all of my journals…I love journaling), grabbed my favorite pen, and let it all out.  And cried.  And laughed.  Then I danced.  A lot!  And I moved on.

Onward, with a smile.

And then you can walk the land knowing and inhabitating that, as my friend Dominique strikingly said to me one day:  “wearing your heart on your sleeve doesn’t make you weak, it makes you stronger.”

Dope, and so true.  Our strength is in our sensitivity, and the ability (and the responsibility)for feeling and then fully and completely acknolwledging our feelings.

But back to woobies.  So soft.  Let’s not be afraid to be soft.  We’re WOMEN…we were created to be soft.  As I said before, ish hurts, and we feel it, but it’s the feeling part that can be the challenge, sisters (or am I out here alone “on the skinny branches” by saying that?).

I love soft things, sisters…I’m very tactile (like a cat…ha!).  I’ve recently learned to honor how much I love soft fabrics and soothing colors…blues, and soft greens and pale yellows…and cotton!  Heck, if my ancestors tended it, I’m gonna celebrate it, goshdarnit!  LOL!

Seriously, though, I love soft fabrics such as cotton and other natural textiles, and will cozy-up when need be to let the other stuff out.  And I try to make my everyday surroundings cushion me in softness and gentle luxury, ’cause I’m sensitive, darn it!

And I’m also learning to honor my sensitivity in all of my choices as well, such as who to hang around, who to let in (and stay in) my space, who to keep walking away from and for whom to give the swift & dusty boot. 

And I’m finding that the more I pay attention to the things, especially the small things, that I love, deserve, want, and need, it makes all the difference in the world.

And, a wonderful dish of whipped cream on the side, my world responds as if it’s so.

So, just from writing this, I’ve discovered that my woobies are actually, in this particular order:  my God, my angels and guides, my God voice, my blanket/cotton, my joys and wants, my family of friends and lovers, and my fur-children (past, present, and future).  Then the world, then the Universe, and back to God.

Works for me.

So, let yourselves be comforted, and live sensitively and strongly.  Sisters, we aren’t just one “strong” thing…we’re a cornucopia of ingredients that make a the pies of our lives.  Strong, sweet, soft, pink,  brown, tan, cocoa, gentile, warm, delightful, black women, sisters of Eve, Cleo’s daughters…onward and onward, and onward and upward.

Enjoy all of it, and embrace it.  Feel the other stuff, then it go.  And this includes how others think of you, speak of you, and perceive you, unless you’re hurting others and/or not being yourself, but that’s another post.  ;-)

So, this is me.  Raw.  I’m Amie, and I’m sensitively strong.  And I need a woobie every now and then.  ;-)

Know that when we talk again, I either will have just completed a kit-katting session with my girls (and/or certain homies), cried, laughed, cat-napped, become incensed, or rallied for a cause in my glasses, on my couch, with my cotton blanket woobie, and that’s OK.

We’re ok being vulnerable.  You don’t have to cover up truth, or stuff it down, or hide it, or drown it, or cloud it out, or disconnect from it, or lie about it, or stay in denial over it, or in the end have to memorize it to get your story straight…it just IS the truth.  You are.  We are.  This is how we were created, and we’re tapping into our biological inheritance to stay soft and gentle. 

Get in there and break down, sisters.  And come out refreshed.  Call in the help of your personal woobie, and step back into the spiral anew and ready for next, whatever it may be.  And we all win:  you feel better and wiser, those around you are spared your bottled-up, stopped-up wrath, and you get to remain, among many other wonderful things, soft and cuddly to all outside others, including your man.  ‘Cause you know our men who love us adore our soft sides!  *Shout out to our sis-supporters!*

So, I hope you found this helpful.  You’re not alone.  I truly do have your back, and I feel and know that you’re starting to have mine.

We’re coming quite the way.  And with our cat “Hope” (her name is Hope, like, for real) steady mascotting her way into the Community Mascot Hall of Fame, we’re ready.

I SO look forward to getting to know all of you, and you getting to know me more and better (as I continue to get to know myself…and ride the wave), and stay tuned for more sensitively strong posts and products down the line for our growing community.

I love my sisters!

A soft meow,

Amie~

*and whenever I post as ”We” I mean me and Hope; ’cause we ride hard.  :-)

Chaste Is the New Black~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Positive Propaganda:  Black Women & Girls Are Proudly Chaste

Let’s talk about sex, sisters.  ;-)

I adore this picture so much!  It sat on my computer’s desktop for weeks after it was published, a captivating reminder of what I know to be true not just about Meagan Good, but of all black women and girls…

…the fact that we are worth the wait! 

I’m sure you’ve heard by now that the lovely Mrs. Good (now, Franklin), refrained from intercourse with her then-fiance’ until the night of their wedding.  The couple dated for well over a year prior to the night she revealed the crown jewels.

When the news broke of their sacred agreement, the internets and blogosphere went bananas!  Folk just simply couldn’t fathom a young couple (a young black couple at that) voluntarily eschewing premarital sex; it was like they stepped out of a Victorian novel or something!

And shockingly, a good number of the incredulous comments came from other sisters!  “How can she make him wait like that!” they cried.  “Good for her, but I sho couldn’t do it!” they laughed.

I giggled along with the crowd, knowing that at times celibacy can be a struggle.  But deep inside, and later very publicly on message boards, I cheered for my sister Meagan, feeling a wee bit closer to the “friend-in-my-head” because we shared similar values, and, like me, she wasn’t afraid to speak up about them.  If only chastity was more popular, I wished.

Well, I’m here to pop out of the closet of celibacy and proclaim that chaste living probably is quite popular, and if not, it both should and can be.

Sisters, I’m here to proclaim that chaste is the new black!  *raises fist*  ;-)

Loved ones, we hold SO much power in our sexual centers.  It’s where we experience pleasure, where we bond, both physically, emotionally, and spiritually, with the one whom we adore.  It’s the center from which we create new life!  There is nothing more powerful than that capability.

We hold and own that power, yet some of us have wantonly given it away as if it were nothing more than a simple exchange for a steak dinner, or a well-worn toy. 

Now, I understand the various reasons behind not being able to own ones’ feminine power through chastity.  Whether its low self-esteem, a history of trauma, mental illness, or drug abuse, sometimes poor choices are made.  But I’m here to say that no matter the mistakes of your past, any day can be a new day to reclaim your feminine, sexual power, and refrain from giving away what should be EARNED.

It’s also my belief that in this day and age, this power – our GIFT – should only be given to the man who falls to one knee and pledges to love and care for us forever (and ever, and ever, amen). 

To keep it very real, there’s just simply too much risk to being sexually generous these days, especially for black women.  In 2009 the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (the CDC), reported that “black women accounted for 30% of the estimated new HIV infections among all blacks,” and most recently it was reported that “39.2% of black Americans have genital herpes (48% of black women!).”  We simply have to keep ourselves safe, sisters; for ourselves and the for the sake of our community.

Equally as important to physical safety is emotional, spiritual, and psychological safety.  Did you know that every time a woman experiences an orgasm, she releases what’s called oxytocin from her bloodstream, which is a biological chemical that emotionally bonds a woman to her sexual partner?  It’s a STRONG chemical, sisters…equal to any man-made drug, and can literally have you strung-out on a man (men) that simply are not worth your time and emotional energy! Do we really want to be lookin’ for Tyrone in the daylight with a flashlight when we aren’t even sure if we like Tyrone, but can’t help it ’cause we let him in the candy jar?  We need to keep our goodies away from Tyrone, and his cronies!  :-)

Lastly, ladies, we are just too gosh darn worthy of being courted in long-lasting, real ways than to give up our sacred bodies to any man who whispers sweet nothings in our ears and let’s us choose from the “good” side of the menu.  We deserve and NEED to engage in long, intimate conversations with our suitors; get to know them, as best as one human can know another.  See them in all four seasons, rain or shine, good times and bad, anger and sadness, before we bond on that deep of a level.  And we need to know that they will be with us come good times or bad, and let them not just tell us, but show us, and show us repeatedly.  We need to TRUST the man we gift with our chastity…our feminine power.

Take a look at the picture above of our sister Meagan and her new hubby once again.  THAT’s the look of a woman who knows she has been, and will continue to be, well cared-for, honored, and respected.  I love how they were both listening intently to the speaker at their wedding…someone who was probably imparting wise words of marital counsel and wisdom as the couple prepared to embark on their journey together.  And I bet your bottom dollar that the wisdom shared had nothing to do with “puttin’ it on him” or “lovin’ her body right…all night…’til the morning light.”  It’s not about sex, sisters.  Real, true, lasting love is more than that, and can exist with or without sex.  Let sex be the icing on the cake, not the bowl and the batter.

And in the end, you don’t want someone who “liked it so much he put a ring on it.”  Not only is that crass, tacky, and WRONG, the phrase and act that it describes devalues the woman while praising her vagina, and NO ONE marries a vagina – they marry a WOMAN.  And dear sisters, we are women; Conscious, Actualized, Trustworthy women (C.A.T.S…and cherished kittens on their way to being C.A.T.S.) whose lady parts, while important, are not the measure of our worth.

At the end of the day, you best believe it is something much deeper than good sex that will keep our sister Meagan, and many of our sisters out there, happily and lovingly dating, engaged, and married.  And if you don’t believe me when I say that chaste is the new black, check out a recent post from one of our men-folk over at the popular blog Single Black Male:  They don’t want us throwing our pearls at them either! http://madamenoire.com/188327/single-black-male-stop-giving-up-the-cookies-ladies-men-will-wait-for-sex/

So ladies, let’s join hands and agree with C.A.T sister Meagan that we will hold ourselves in high esteem, carry ourselves with poise and dignity, and keep our legs closed until our hearts are fully open and the ring is firmly on the finger (post-nuptuals).  And if you can’t wait that long (though it won’t kill you…I promise), let’s at least wait until we’re fully monogamous with our partners, in a committed, loving, trustworthy relationship.

There is nothing worth the price of our bodies, our health, or giving up our feminine power.

Chaste IS the new black.

Meow,

PositiveProp~

 

 

Black Love: Struggling, But ALIVE!

Positive Propaganda:  Black Women Are LOVED

Don’t let the media fool you…black women are, and can be, truly loved.  Black love DOES EXIST.  Do we have work to do as a people to reclaim purity, safety, and holistic health in our romantic relationships?  Yes.  Do we see examples of black relationships that are anything but gentle and loving, both in our communities and on our television screens?  Unfortunately, yes.  But black love is not, I repeat, NOT a striped unicorn of a scenario; IT EXISTS!

The picture of Barack and Michelle above touched me beyond measure when it found me (yes, it found me) today. ;-)   The image speaks profoundly to our current state of affairs as black people, and what we need to see more often in our relationships.  The desolate, semi-dilapidated background is likened to the hostile, chaotic, and cold world we as black women sometimes inhabit. The colors, stark, bleak, black and white with hints of gray, are strikingly similar to our wounded feminine souls that we must work to heal on a daily basis.  Yet, in the midst of chaos and darkness stand two united as one; he with a furrowed brow and protective embrace, pondering how to plot a course of safety, comfort, and success for his loved one and their union.  She with a contented, confident smile of one who knows she’s in good, safe, capable hands – no worry in her world – her man’s ‘got this.’  THAT’S black love at its finest.

Some say, “yeah, but that’s only one couple out of millions, and a famous couple at that – they’re different…better…practically nonexistent where I come from.”  Yes, this is true, but again, IT EXISTS.  Like a tiny plant on a lonely planet, if one exists, so can others.  They simply need to be developed, fed, and nurtured. 

I know I’m not alone in being aware of at least one black couple who are MONAGAMOUS (don’t let the lies fool you; monogamy in black marriage also exists, and is possible), loving, successful (or striving toward success) and united in spirit and in deed.  Black love is what saved us as a people in the days of slavery and during the Jim Crow era of segregation, as we sought to define ourselves in this new country and create havens of safety for ourselves and our offspring.  It existed once, and can continue to thrive – if we let it – if we demand it, and do not settle for anything less.

What’s happened in the last twenty to thirty years that now sees our men degrading black women in the media, in song, and through action?  When did ‘women of the night’ and strippers (the dancing wounded) become the image of black women hailed by our men who were sent here by God to love, keep, and protect us?  And why are we letting this happen?!  Are we not demanding more from our men?  When did simply having a child from a black man, but not feeling worthy of or insisting on his fidelity, commitment, protection, and unconditional love become the norm – the creation of the ill-fated and disrespected “baby mama”? We deserve more.  Black love demands more.

As many of you know, a lot of media attention was recently paid to our young black stars Rhianna and Chris Brown as they reunited in song after having engaged in a toxic, destructive, abusive relationship.  Reactions were mixed, with some feeling betrayed by Rhianna for returning to her abuser, and others cheering for a full reconciliation, pledging their hope for the success of “black love.”   I’m here to tell you today, sisters, that what those two poor souls are engaged in IS NOT LOVE, and is certainly not indicative of black love.  What that is is a dance of co-dependancy and addiction, fueled by substance abuse and the deadly pull of what’s termed “negative love” or trauma bonding (if you’re not familiar with the term “trauma bonding”, look it up when you get a chance; very insightful).  Two young kids, both from violent homes, who are unconsciously repeating the pattern they grew up witnessing:  daddy hits, mama stays, men abuse, women take it.  Again, that is NOT love, and we need to educate our people, especially our young girls (our kittens, if you will) to recognize and know the difference.

Also, today’s “urban” media isn’t doing much to help the case and cause for black love.  I’ve noticed the rising popularity of songs that depict violence against women, especially by our young rap & hip-hop stars.  A new song by “artist” (quotes purposefully inserted) Bei Meijor (with rapper J. Cole)  titled “Trouble” struck me the most.  Currently in heavy rotation on urban radio stations, the lead singer croons various directives and orders to his girlfriend (“I told you not to”), and then describes the resulting negative consequences for her disobedience (“It’s gon’ get you in trouble”). This song exemplifies the common, current mindset of our young black men in reference to how romantic relationships should be conducted, and it’s both shocking and startling.  View a sample of the lyrics below:

Yeah, invitations in the whirlwind
We both bad at it
Told myself no more hittin’ n-ggas girlfriends
Thats my old bad habit
Here you go, round that
Already know, what I’m staring at
I mean from top to bottom your body is problem so
Somebody better take care of that
And who
Better than, the n-gga let ‘em in
When your man aint home, you can let him in
Late night Letterman
I aint gon tat-a-tale
Damn your ass bad as hell
 
WHAT IS THIS?!  This is NOT BLACK LOVE!  This is abuse, misogyny and control, anything but love of the fairer sex.  And this, my sisters, is what our young black men are being taught in terms of how we should be treated.  And some of us are humming their tune, singing along, buying the albums, and “co-signing” on the toxic dogma.  It has to stop.

 

The responsibility to define, revive, and save black love is ours.  We can’t blame our men if we accept this type of treatment.  We must teach our young black girls (kittens) that this is not love; we must educate them on what real love is!  We must love and respect ourselves enough to know that we deserve emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual health and safety in our relationships.  And if we do not know what that means or looks like, then those of us who do, or who have seen REAL black love in action, MUST EDUCATE our sisters and our community on its existence. 

I didn’t grow up in a Cliff and Clair Huxtable world, but it was close enough.  It was close enough to know that my generation could achieve what the Huxtables represented, and perfect what my parents and ancestors began, through personal will, faith, and help from God.  And this, ladies, is our task – our charge.  We must become aware and educate, both each other, our men, and our entire community, on the reality and NEED for true black love in our lives. 

Our survival depends on it.

So, let me end this post with a few descriptions of what black love really is, and how to recognize it in action:

In black love, a man takes charge, follows through, and protects, provides, and presents for his woman.  He respects you, your family, your thoughts, and your opinions.  He is a man of his word, and is both honest and communicative.  He is chivalry in action:  he opens doors for you with a smile, pulls out your chair, walks on the outside of the curb, and holds doors open for you as you enter and exit.  He uses soft tones, NEVER YELLS OR CURSES AT YOU (even when angry) and does not touch you aggressively.  He make plans with you and asks your opinion – does not assume or control you nor situations you are in; you are a team.  He believes in God, or a power greater than himself.  He is humble and fun-loving, and smiles more than he frowns.  He knows how to control his emotions.  He is faithful and monogamous.  He is your biggest cheerleader, and is ALWAYS on your side.  He is your best friend.  And, more than anything, he makes you feel warm, safe, and comfortable:  where there is fear, there is no love; remember that.

There is so much more to say about black love, and about black women in love, but let’s begin here.  The qualities listed above may seem far fetched to some, and a fairy tale to others, but know that these are the base qualities that must be present in order to develop a strong, loving, secure relationship, and are not too much to ask.  We can do this; let’s demand it.   And remember, in millions of homes as we speak, it already exits.

With love,

PositiveProp~

*meow*