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.
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.
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
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,
*and whenever I post as “We” I mean me and Hope; ’cause we ride hard.