Until After the Wedding

Every word she spoke increased my sorrow, and made me realize just how bad my parents relationship had become. Not that I didn’t suspect it at some point to happen. When I was a teenager I noticed that my parents didn’t have much of a relationship, and despite my mothers efforts, my father was clueless and unfortunately more selfish than he would ever realize in his emotional ignorance.

My sorrow deepened even more as I recalled all the times I confided in my mother about concerns I had in my own marriage…and she responded with “You definitely married someone like your father.” No less, all the times she told me “You’re just like your father.”

Thank you mom. You’re so supportive.

The sense of hopelessness that it left in me made me consider that my marriage may end up looking like hers one day. Where my husband feels more like a roommate and less like a husband. Unfortunately hints of that have already started in my relationship, and to divulge my feelings to my husband and get an honest response out of him….I had to get him buzzed so we could talk about it without anyone saving face or telling lies a few nights ago last week.

The hardest part of being in my mothers situation is knowing that she was worth more long before my father was married to her. She was a teacher, with a good savings, paid well in her district, and a solid retirement plan. When my father got hold of the finances after they were married, he lost my mothers retirement and asked her not to go back to work until after we kids were out of the house. A closeted sexist and an unfortunate product of the era of his parents. He wasn’t counting on pregnancy and time to increase my mother’s health problems, and eventually he seemed to set himself up well for retirement and with life insurance policies on both he and my mother, but unfortunately no retirement plan for my mother, and no financial security either. Now she is unable to go back to work, and her health costs are taking them both for all they’re worth…which oddly enough gives me a sense of comfort know my fathers poor decision making has not come without consequences to his actions. It’s just unfortunate that my mother has to lose her peace of mind and security in her marriage over his lacking.

I had been wise in asking my husband to keep our finances separate. A method that many family and friends had given me flack for. Saying that I was not being wise or truthful to my husband about our finances and that it wasn’t right of me as a wife to request it or withhold from my household. Still, my husband was kind enough to agree to it. We each put what we can into our joint account, and we each do what we can to keep our own savings and checking accounts in line. If I’m broke, it is only my fault and no one else’s. No one can financially abuse me. I can choose what I want to invest in or not.

Still, financial abuse is not he only concern my parents relationship has caused me to be afraid of. My father, will sell nothing of his own, but often suggest selling things of my mothers to make ends meet. He will often be distant or removed emotionally and not have any kind of romantic attachment to my mother when he doesn’t feel like it. His moods swing and she falls victim to his coldness, not that he cheats or physically hurts her…but he neglects her…something I have noticed ever since I was old enough to become observant. All attributes I can see great potential of in my own relationship. Which makes me increasingly afraid.

Still I fight so hard to remind myself that my husband is not my father. He tried to ask me how I’m doing. He tries to take care of me. Even if he’s feeling distant he never pushes me away if I attempt to emotionally approach him. He may struggle with words, but he admits that. He asks for affirmation. He asks for my respect when he feels he is not getting it. He never makes unreasonable demands.

Still, we are young both in age and marriage…and so much has yet to happen.



“I haven’t seen you post much lately. Wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah, been avoiding social media a little lately. Too political and overwhelming.”

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A Long Post About the Friend Zone and the Girlfriend Zone

In college I had a guy friend who happened to go through a really bad breakup with his fiancé. I had been close to both he and his ex fiancé at the time, spending a great deal of time with them and letting her stay in my dorm when she came to visit. She was fun, and super nice to hang out with, and I had known him since freshman year when school began, he was pretty cool and a good friend.

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We Do Not Love the Same

No it wasn’t I
Who gave you everything
It was someone else
Someone who’s value
Hinged on you
Who’s self worth
Was decided by you
But you do not decide
How much I am worth
That is between me
And my Maker
I might give you
Small things
But to give you myself
That will not come
Until you prove that
You deserve me
That you are committed to me
Until it is sealed
And do not think
Because someone
Gave herself to you
That you can justify
My own choices for me

Beware….a Feminist Book Review….Or Something Like That

Recently, I began reading a book called Killing the Black Body which is a work about the history of African American women’s reproductive rights and it’s switch from the culture of slavery which forced these women into motherhood, to enforcing the government funded sterilization (without patient consent) and suppression of their right to give birth. It’s heavy. Filled with case study upon case study of control, violence, and political struggle. It’s heart breaking really. Causing me to wonder about the intensions behind the existence of contraceptive drugs, the ideals of Planned Parenthood, racism, and the ever changing meaning of (and threats to) reproductive liberty.

There are many reasons I chose to buy and read this book.

Firstly: Because it is a book about Black women. I am not Black. I am a woman. I seek knowledge about both because…I don’t know what it means to be either of those things. So in a search to understand my femininity and my ethnicity, I sought out a piece of literature that might help me understand things outside of my realm of white (enough to practically glow under black lights) and into the common ground of female.

Secondly: It is a history that I am only slightly familiar with because of American History Classes, that are predominately written to give a brief (and not very detailed) history of America. A bit of an experiment with my national identity as an American, and how I may be informed about the laws and issues that surround all women and how those laws effect women on a large and individual scale dependent on issues of race, social, and economic status.

Thirdly: Because it’s a freaking book and I love reading.

When I began reading this book, I found myself not only painfully taking in each case study, but also trying to read between the lines. The forward had informed me a little bit of what the author, Dorothy Roberts, was intending to write about, but I wanted to see what she was REALLY trying to say. To be truthful, I was more or less trying to figure out if she was for or against the ideals of Planned Parenthood. A topic I have come to be more conscious of as I grow and mature in my femininity.

What I love about informative literature, is the questions they pose to me that differ from my own beliefs. But what I enjoy about this book more specifically, is it is written in a way that I am only able to hear the voice of the author in a very subtle way. It is unique, in that it is about the topic of racism saturated culture and the issues it has caused in the realm of Planned Parenthood, but it is also unique, in that it does not disrespect either side of the argument. It tells the story, perhaps not the whole story, but enough for a person to accumulate the gist of both sides of the issue, and to think for themselves.

I wish more literature was that way. I dislike being beaten to death by an argument that has no standing. One that wants me to be brain washed, and force fed only to regurgitate it out later whether it is relevant or not. I don’t want to be assaulted by an author. I want to be informed! I want to know the angles. I want to know the responses to the opposition. I want to actually learn something, not be told to think something, and not to be told to think something that isn’t useful to me. Or worse….isn’t relevant. 20140628-211118-76278861.jpg

The Skinny


I was absolutely livid as I looked at the woman on the screen. A fuller figure yes, but plus size. I was shocked. Irritated. Pissed off. Then I got even more so, when they said her dress size. Size 10. My dress size. What the hell!?!?

I don’t think I’m gunna watch, Say Yes to the Dress ever again.

I spent that night on my room scissor kicking my caffeine high away attempting to sleep. I couldn’t get over it. I turned on my light and looked at my figure in the mirror. Pulling up my shirt to leave nothing hidden. It was true. My stomach almost stuck out further than my boobs. It had gotten bigger since the last time I looked at it. Rolls were forming. I wasn’t happy about it.

This morning I fast walked a mile in 20 minutes. Ate toast and Special K cereal. The protein kind. A yoghurt to help take care of my low blood sugar. Drank a large glass of water. Looked at th inspiration and exercise tips online.

Now I lay here, dissatisfied with my appearance.

Nothing From Me


If you want to lose me
Use me as a work horse
Tell me what to do
Boss me around
Objectify me
Treat me like I am
A thing to own
Instead of a person to be held
To love
To cherish
Show me that I am
Only worth
What I can do for you
Be completely selfish
And I will leave
Because you will get
Nothing from me