It’s Just D. You Do Not Have To Swallow.

There is one question I REFUSE to ask a man – What are we?

Or any derivative of that question. What are we doing? Where are we going with this? And it isn’t because I’m afraid of the answer.

It’s because I don’t need his answer.


I am a black woman wearing a size 12 in clothes (#thickthighssavelives). There are a lot of things in life which are not geared toward me. They don’t advertise to me. There are stores which do not carry clothes with enough fabric for these breasts and thighs. There are bars and restaurants which do not want to admit a person with visible melanin. There are corporations who will not put a woman on its Board of Directors. These things and more were not created for me. They do not want my patronage or dollars.


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He’s Not Your Friends’ Business

I have been blessed with some amazing female friends in my life. They’ve been there to wipe my tears, to cheer me on, to even pull me from the rubble when necessary. I truly believe that every woman needs two or three amazing women in their lives. There is power and safety in a sister circle.  I have God, I have my family, and I have my friends. They’re there when I need advice, support, or just a night of laughter.


You know where they are not?

My bedroom.

An enduring joke amongst female friends is if you date me, you must also date my friends. Absolutely not. There are two people in a relationship. TWO. There are only two opinions that matter. TWO. His and mine. He should not give an iota what your friends think about him. Neither should you. I’ll rephrase.

Your friends’ opinion should never hold more weight than what you feel.

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So Anxious (90s R&B)

(Housekeeping: I know I’m supposed to update this site twice a week. My bad. Fingers crossed that I’ll be back to a normal schedule next week.)

“Pretty brown eyes/ You know I see you/ It’s a disguise the way you treat me..”

“You keep telling me on the telephone/ How you got it going on/ And how you’ll keep me satisfied…”

“Hey Mr. DJ/ Why don’t you slow this party down/ The ladies in here are fly/ And there’s one who’s caught my eye…”

“Last night, we had an argument/ You told me you loved me…”

On this week’s #tbt, let’s take the time to exalt 90s R&B. Back when you used to sit in front of the radio with your fingers primed to press “Record” and “Play” buttons as soon as the deejay stopped talking and Teddy Riley sang, “You know what/I like the players/ No diggity/ No doubt.” Back when Joe promised not to stop until he heard your mama scream. Back when you waited for Donnie Simpson to play Janet Jackson – If so you could perfect that choreography or Remember The Time to figure out how Michael Jackson turned into that damn cat.

“The way you walk, the way you talk/ the way you say my name and smile/ the way you move me, the way you soothe me/ the way you speak softly through the night/ Every morning you rise and open your eyes/ I just wanna be there with you baby/ I just wanna be yours from this day forth…”

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