Tuesday, June 23, 2009
A librarian once told me it’s not those sistas that you should be watchin` out for but those French whores, the Québécoises. The woman behind that desk was talking about white girls. It was funny to me, not in a haha way but in a weird way. In her case it’s true that a hint of black blood makes you fully black. Valerie is biracial. Her father is a dark skinned Brazilian and her mother is French Canadian. Therefore, her mother stole our man. Are they really our men? I don’t own black men nor do I want to. As a matter of fact I don’t own no man, no human. What is up with some women thinking that they own a man because they are part of a certain ethnic group? It is sickening to my stomach which what were these words coming out of Valerie’s mouth. I like to think its Binationality but unfortunately the correct term is biracial, why put the race in it? There is only the human and animal race and since I can breathe like the red, black, yellow, brown, white man and donate blood to whomever needs it well then we are all the same, right? Indeed we are. Why is there such a divide?
I guess it’s because whether we like it or not we live in different worlds. Depending on our backgrounds and skin color, we go through very different obstacles. The world, life caters to some of us and for others it’s just a bitch, just strugglin`. Just like beautiful people get more attention than ugly people. Whites get more opportunities than everybody else. Now in a way I can understand ``race`` because of regardless of how I look, my world, the life of a black woman is completely different from the life of a Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic woman. Then again what about my light skin women? Those sistas, my sistas. Im of a beautiful, dark, chocalate, smooth, soft, sexy complexion. Am I treated differently than my light skin, caramel friend Sara? Perhaps and it’s a fact and I accept it but don’t appreciate that mindset. Lighter is better just like beautiful is better and thinner is better. There is a divide there. I’ve only noticed this divide last year after having a heated discussion with Mama and Nana about the light skin, dark skin topic. I know that Nana felt like Mama and I were gangin` up on her and for that I am sorry but sista` Nana I still stand by my point.
My fellow sister and Sri Lankan beauty Anu battles with the light skin mentality. In fact she uses a lightening cream; it disappoints me to think that my friend believes to be beautiful you must be light. I’m dark skinned and I think I am beautiful …..at times….. at least more than I think I’m ugly. I appreciate what the world has to offer and its different beauties, the diversity, men, women and between. The complexions are so pretty, why would you want to look the same.
I’ve always been comfortable with my skin color. I never had a moment where I wanted to be none other than dark chocolate. It is understandable that societal norms and the western idea of beauty can pressure people to go to extreme lengths to be closer to that idea. Take me for example, I exercise and sometimes eat less than I am suppose to, to maintain and have that suitable body type, the one that is accepted and gets by in life. Everyone has their insecurities.
Friday, June 5, 2009
J inspired me, she made me realise the errors of my ways. To be frank I knew what the problem was, I knew then what I know now. Heart broken is who I was, betrayal is what happened, loneliness is what I faced and my insecurities were my control. Can’t get a hold of anything else in my life than well change me and make my flaws perfection. Girl, you need to stop making these foolish excuses… words from J. After dealing with him, I stopped caring for myself. Perfection was my goal and still is what I am eager to achieve. J kept on calling me negative, my attitude is shit. Today was really the first day I felt good about myself. I’ve matured, my face has matured. I look amazing, distorted thoughts. The more it sinks in, the more I feel attractive. I want it to the bone, cause this is my control. Sometimes, I miss V`s company but I know I am better off. Avoid that nuisance. Bitch is rotten. The dick used to be good; I loved that connection with a man. Strong arms, hit that hard. Make me moan. I loved that shit! My spiritual connection is no longer, sex is now absent. I’ve abused of it. I’m so wrong; using men like he used me.
This is just a draft, a few thoughts.