Men Are Allowed To Be Happy Too!

I am currently struggling to find the time these days to be on social media, let alone actually posting content. When I do have the time (normally while I’m sitting on the toilet trying to avoid my kids), I can only catch a post or two before I have to go back to whatever I was doing. One post caught my eye a few weeks ago (remember, I’m still trying to create a time machine and a cloning machine so that I can be less busy here)- the post said something along the lines of “men are supposed to provide for the family, make sure their mate is happy, then die”. And other guys commented and agreed to the post! The whole time I was thinking “but, what about them actually being happy?” When did it become the norm for men to NOT be happy with life?

At the ripe young vibrant age of- HA! You actually thought that I was going to give my age away? Better luck next time! Lol! Anyways- I have no desire to date anyone who is not happy at this point in my life. I have worked extremely hard within myself to establish and maintain inner peace and happiness, so dating someone who doesn’t strive for the same would make us unequally yoked. Not for me boop! I am the encouraging, motivating type. I wake up and send you a good morning texts. I send nudes randomly. I tell you that I love the peen, and that I think you are the most amazing person in the world. I speak life over my man, I take him on dates, and I leave his stomach full and his man parts empty. My partner WILL BE happy, there’s no doubt about that.

What I cannot understand is why men (and women) think that men shouldn’t be happy in a relationship. Happy couples thrive- they make money together, have great sex, raise happy kids, make amazingly tasting food… The list goes on. This society has created a belief that men are JUST providers and sperm donors and nothing else. Men are that, and so much more! Men are protectors, comforters, friends, help mates, equal partners in business, the head of households, father figures, mentors, leaders, game changers, deal makers, lovers…. as you can see my list is endless. I myself had to accept that I completely disregarded the fact that men possessed feelings just as much as women do. In my past relationships, the man’s happiness was never my concern. Men didn’t show it, so I didn’t bother to cater to it. But not catering to that essential part of a man only lead to unhappy relationships. We foster insecurities, lies, and doubt in our men when we do not make it our business to actively ensure their happiness. A good friend of mine recently told me that in order to keep a man happy, all I need to do is make sure his stomach is full and his balls are empty. But I believe that other little things play into that as well. I’ll send my partner flowers. How many men can say that their woman ever sent them a bouquet of roses? I’ll send my partner to the spa, just because. I’ll plan romantic evenings or getaways just to say thank you. I’ll figure out what your favorite thing is, and get it engraved or personalized as a gift. I’ll ask you how your day was, and can I give you a foot massage. Everything that I want my man to do to me, I am going to do to him. If these actions make me happy, they’ll make him happy too, right?

My partner will be one of the top 5 people in my life (God first, and he shares the slot with my 2 kids and my mom and grandmom). If I go out of my way to make all of those other people happy and ensure that my relationship with them is stable, by the same notion I will do the same for my mate. Shoot- I’ll cashapp him some money on my pay-day and tell him to go get a cut, on me. I plan on living until I am close to 100. My partner has to keep a smile on my face every single day until God calls me home. But, he can only do that if I in turn keep a smile on his face.

Ladies, we need to remember that without our men, life would be so much more difficult. I am not one of those women who say that I do not need a man and I can do everything by myself. I cannot. I hate taking out the trash, I hate having to deal with car stuff, I hate having everything on my shoulders, I hate sleeping alone (but thankfully my kids cuddle with me most nights), I hate when my grandparents constantly ask me when I am going to find a husband and get married. Like I can just snap my fingers and he’ll magically appear. Hmmm…… Maybe I should add that to my list of inventions; a perfect-husband-machine… I can manage without a partner, but life is so much easier with one. A happy one!

Be legendary Kings; be extraordinary Queens!

-tootles!

xoxo

But I’m Pretty Too….

I don’t really like to have drama in my life, but I love to watch it on tv. One of my most watched “ratchet tv” shows is Love and Hip Hop. All of the women on the show are beautiful- perfect sculpted bodies, reconstructed faces, million dollar surgeries to keep them looking good and in shape. And here I am, little ol’ me, with my 2-pregnancy-raisin-stomach that I just cannot get rid of. Everytime I turn on the tv, I see images of woman who are showing me what I am supposed to look like. But what about me? I’m just as beautiful…

I have been blessed as a woman to not have body issues. I have issues with my body, but it doesn’t affect the image of myself (please understand the difference). We cannot say the same for other women and girls. Visual images play a major role in our lives without us realizing it. We see images of beautiful women on television all day long, and this is the media’s way of telling us how we should look. Our waist should be small, our butts should be big, or lips should be full, and our hair should be long. But what if we don’t naturally look this way? My hair is kinky, I wear glasses when I don’t have my contacts in, my stomach is nowhere near being flat, and I am averagely beautiful. I think that I should still have just as much importance as they do. The media works very hard to make us believe that we should be naked, loud, and unnaturally disproportionate in order to gain attention from anyone. That’s not fair, especially to our daughters. I do not want my daughter to grow up thinking that she has to fit into a certain image in order to be beautiful. She is beautiful, just the way that she is. And so are you, and you, and you. The overweight beautiful beauties, the flat booty beauties, the baby-belly-that-won’t-go-away beauties, the acne-that-won’t-give-up beauties. All women are beautiful, no matter what the media tries to tell you. Reassure yourself of that; reassure your friends, your sisters, your cousins, and most importantly your daughters. We are ALL beautiful!

Within the last few years, dark-skinned women are starting to get recognition for their beauty. Not that we weren’t beautiful before, but now we are RECOGNIZED for our beauty. As well as thicker women. “Thick thighs saves lives” is the new slogan (which I love because I love my thick thighs honey!). But how far have we really come in this “beauty image” industry? And can we expect this recognition to last, or is it just a fad? The naturalista’s, the natural face girls, the freckles, the beauty marks- can we really expect society to love and accept us from this point forward? I don’t know about you, but my chocolate skin complexion has always been one thing that I was the most proud of in regards to my beauty. Now that my acne is cleared up and you can see the smoothness of my chocolate face- hunny, NO ONE can tell me anything now! Lol! And it only ADDS to my beauty. I define my beauty- not the media. Who defines yours?

Remember- you are exactly who you think you are, NOT who other people think you are!

Be legendary Kings, be extraordinary Queens!

tootles!

-xoxo

I Thought He Was The One…

As a woman, a sister, a mom, a friend, a cousin, and a niece, I wish I listened more when my elders were talking to me. I would have saved myself a lot of grief, and a major heartache. For the last 7 years (and currently still), I have been dealing with the most evil and pettiest person that I could ever meet. And he just so happens to be my ex husband and the father of my children. Let me explain…

You know how they say that people will always remember the bad? Well, I can’t get the bad out of my head. When I found out that I was pregnant with my daughter, the first words that blurted out of his mouth were “you finally got what you wanted”. Followed by him coming home and us arguing for the next 2 weeks. I remember me sleeping in the back room because I was tired of arguing. Eventually (about a month later), he came around and became excited about the pregnancy. Until she came out. Then things started going down hill again. I remember having to put plastic over the windows because I didn’t want my daughter to catch a cold (I was a very paranoid first-time-mother); instead of him doing it or helping me, he started criticizing my work. He had his clippers on the nightstand, along with some other things. I moved them off of the nightstand so that I could get on the ledge. That became an argument- why did I move his stuff? His stuff is valuable and I could’ve broken it. Why was I even doing it? I walked out of the room because I got tired of hearing him. Guess what he did- he followed me. Into the bathroom, downstairs to the kitchen, back upstairs; all the while, I was carrying the baby trying to soothe her. I got so fed up that I took those same clippers, stood at the top of the stairs, and threw them down. Yup- I broke it, and told him “since they’re the issue, I eliminated the problem”. I constantly found text messages or emails between him and other women; one message I distinctively remember was of him telling a young lady that he would be taking her to the movies, and she shouldn’t wear any panties because his tongue would get lonely. I was constantly being disrespected.

The defining moment should have been when I moved into the middle room of our then new house (which was a fixer-upper that he was never fixing might I add). I was tired of the arguing and decided that I just did not want to be in the same space as him. I was in the bed playing with my daughter (who was around 3 months) and the bedroom door was closed and locked. He wanted to get inside the room- his excuse was that he wanted to see his daughter. I responded and said when I was done playing with her, he could have her. That wasn’t good enough for him. He started pounding on the door; the pounding turned into him slamming his body against the door until he took it off of the hinges. He looked at me and said “don’t lock any f*&%$! doors in my house”. He didn’t take the baby; he didn’t even look at her. Then, he left. I should have listened to my instincts then, but no- I stayed. I thought that I could love him enough to squeeze the insecurities, the paranoia, the controlling and abusiveness out of him.

I’m sitting here trying to think what was the straw that broke the camels back for me. Was it when I told him that I was pregnant for the 2nd time and he said that he didn’t want another child? Or was it when I found yet another woman’s texts in his phone. Or when I found out that he was on an actual date with another woman. I can’t figure it out, but I know that one day I just woke up and said “I’m done”. And ever since then, I have been going through hell with him. He’s withheld the kids from me more than once. I want to say kidnapped, but there was no custody in place at the time. He took both the kids and said he would not give them to me (nevermind the fact that he said my son wasn’t his, and that he didn’t sign his birth certificate). The last time, he held them away for 2 months because he found out that I applied for custody of the kids. It was only AFTER the judge granted me primary custody and TOLD him that he needed to hand the kids over that he did. Every female that he gets into a relationship with, he has my children calling them “mom”. His ex girlfriend told me that she was “a better mother to MY kids than I was”. At one point, he was telling any and everyone who would listen that I had every STD out. He won’t take the kids to daycare, and he still has the nerve to tell me that I need his permission to go on trips with my own children. Let’s not forget the current situation with him stealing the hard drive from my WORK COMPUTER!!!!! (eye roll emoji). How did I ever think that I was in love with such a person?

Ladies- we love the idea of love. Of having someone love us, flaws and all. BUT! We also need to be able to determine if the love that we are getting is genuine or abusive. Is beneficial to our mental health, or condemning it. If it’s someone who we can be truly happy with, or hoping that happiness comes in the future. We need to be honest with ourselves about the relationship what we are in. If it’s not what we need to be a better person, maybe we shouldn’t be in it. Save your self- your mind, your heart, spirit, you. Because once you give it away, you can’t get it back.

Be legendary Kings; be extraordinary Queens!

-tootles!

-xoxo

A Piece of Me..

Picture this: you’re 9.5 months pregnant, locked up in a room, laying on a bottom bunk bed. You start feeling contractions, and immediately start panicking. You’ve heard stories before of other women who lost their babies because the guards took too long to get them to the hospital; you don’t want that to happen to you. You try to calm yourself down, but the next contraction hits you. This baby is coming out, now.

This was my story 4 years ago. I was incarcerated for 8.5 months. Had my son in jail; had him ripped away from me just 2 days after giving birth to him. Missed a year of milestones with my daughter, and 4 months worth of my son’s life. And here I am today- a successful business owner. It wasn’t easy. One of the hardest moments of that time was my son being taken away from me. Any guard who came across my path always said the same thing to me- “you don’t belong here”. Tell me about it! The guards who were with me at the hospital felt my pain so much when they took my son, that they themselves cried. It was tough. Now, imagine having been through a cesarean section, and needing medication to help take the pain away and the nurses refusing to give it to you (there were MANY addicts in the prison). No pain meds, no wound care, puss coming out of my incision, and no baby boy (my scar and stomach is still numb to this day). I had 1 of 2 choices- I could either give up on life, or fight to get the hell out of there. There was never really an option; I had to fight. I have 2 children who need their mother. So, I dug deep inside of myself and found a way to forgive everything and everyone I could think of (including the person who put me in jail) and forced myself to have internal peace. In order for me to be able to function inside of that society, I had to be at complete peace within. Because I knew that if I didn’t check my emotions, my anger, my rage, I would hurt people in there. So I fought that voice inside of my head telling me to slam someone’s face into a wall, or to kick someone’s face until they stopped moving (yes- there was that much anger inside of me at that time). I had to find a way to let it go. And God reached his hand down from heaven and touched my heart. And I asked him to piece all of my broken-ness together, and He did. And I was at peace. And not too long afterwards I was released and with my kids.

The crazy thing is, I was only incarcerated for 8.5 months, but coming home was a major transitioning for me. It took me almost 2 weeks to transition back into normal life. I still can’t sleep or use the bathroom with the door closed, or go down State Road without having a panick attack. And unfortunately, I’ve learned that I have the really bad ability of  compartmentalizing myself and my emotions towards people. I’m still trying to learn how to undo that. But I’ve grown this amazing resiliency in life. And despite it all, I still believe in people. I own a small business- coaching and consulting people in starting their business ventures. I am a successful grant writer, and an amazing mother. I have met, surpassed, and SMASHED all of my personal and business goals, and I am currently starting my venture into real estate investing. All by the graces of God.

NEVER let a situation, circumstance, or bad decision determine your life. I was looking at 2-5 years in an upstate prison, but God saw fit to only have me serve 8.5 months in jail. I could’ve lost my life and my sanity, but God saw fit to restore me. I am still learning how to open up and trust people, but I made a promise to myself and my children that I would not let myself be put into another situation where their mother would be taken away from them again. I feel like I should be a motivational speaker with all of the foolishness I went through and overcame. We have to believe in ourselves in order to make it through any situation. It’s not going to be easy (nor is it supposed to be), but we can do it. I know that if I could do it, anyone can do it!

We are who WE believe ourselves to be!

Be legendary Kings, be extraordinary Queens!

tootles!

-xoxoxo