Life is funny. Anything or anyone that I thought I’d lost never failed to come back to me. Be it professionally or personally, my losses consistently manage to manifest back at my doorstep. The greatest thing is that by the time it returns, I’m in such a better place in my life to where I don’t even open the door. The Word says God’s strength will be made perfect in my weakness. I apply the same sentiment to myself – I will be made better in its absence. And those things that have not returned? 🤷🏿♀️ Time’s still ticking.
In case it is not clear, I think I’m the shit. I think anyone or anything would be a dumb ass to lose me as an employee, as a significant other, as a friend, as a professional. Now maybe some of you might think I’m not the right hue to be so confident, my body doesn’t have the right measurements to be so immovable, or my accouterments don’t have the right brand logo to be so high maintenance. *shakes head* Your thoughts are only reflective of how you view yourself; it ain’t got shit to do with me.
You see, I fucking despise weakness. And I don’t mean like failure. Failure isn’t weakness. You tried, it didn’t work, so try it again. You had the courage to try; that isn’t weak. You had to rebuild yourself after a fuck-up. That’s not weakness, either. Everyone fucks up, but not everyone has the wherewithal to rebound. You do. Weakness is excuse after excuse after excuse. Weakness is letting someone else dictate your life. Weakness is talking loud and fronting in front of others then crying yourself to sleep at night. Weakness is…
…most of these men out here today and the dumb ass women who allow it.
Some of y’all women see a weak man and immediately bring him home like a lost puppy. Men know they can go from homeless to a two-bedroom condo just from a lonely soul swiping right on Tinder. Slide in the right DMs, and some idiot will bring him current on his child support. He can bring home an STD and some women will fight the woman he may have gotten it from and still allow his ass to lie next to them at night, throat uncut. These men have made some women as weak as they are. You’ve devalued yourself to keep a man who never had any value in the first fucking place. It’s okay. I can revert the effects of this weakness and get you out of the sunken place. First step, sis? Tell that MF bye.
Stop letting impoverished hands touch your clitoris, girl. Ain’t nobody trying to catch poverty out here. Have standards. Set your principles. Establish a baseline – What Can He Do For You? If you are above 28, I don’t want to hear shit about his potential. What does he have that can enhance your life TODAY? Don’t be a damsel in need of saving, and don’t be a fool out her plugging faulty boats. Any man laying in your bed, nutting between your legs, need to be able to provide! If you’re late on your rent next month, he should be able to handle that. Your best friend and husband are planning a trip to the Maldives–he should be able to get you there. You had a bad day at work–he should be waiting at your front door with a warm hug, hot food, and a hard dick. If you have to wait for his wife to go to bed or until payday so he can afford to put gas in his car, sis…
As your grandmother would say, I’m not telling you what I heard. I’m telling you what I know. I have been a victim of dickmatization – months long situationship with community dick who could only afford to take me out on his payday. I’ve been in love with a man who left me to go lie with his wife every night. But none of that shit broke me. My confidence may have slipped, but it didn’t disappear. A weaker woman would internalize those “Ls”,” realize her unworthiness, and just accept the next man who shows up regardless of what he can provide.
That fool ain’t me. Understand this. My confidence does not come from what I bring to the table. It ain’t about my attractiveness, my accomplishments, my accounts (though they ain’t lacking). My confidence is simple – I am the fucking table. There’s a full meal and dining set on this table without you, so if I allow you to sit, know that it is not complimentary. Whachu got to offer, bruh? Your choices are feed me as well as I feed myself or better. This pussy costs, and the fee has to be paid every time. Your sitting here with me is an honor I have bestowed upon you, and I will rescind that honor at my discretion. Cause I ain’t met a motherfucker yet who was so necessary to my table, their seat became permanent.
Many women say it, but I’m unafraid to mean it. I am not the one you want to try. No one is necessary for me to be complete. Don’t bluff thinking you’re a necessity when you’ve always been nothing but an accessory. I have too much purpose in me. Too much purpose in me to ever allow a friend’s opinions, a lover’s inconsistencies, a job’s misconceptions to hinder the trajectory of my life. Where I am and where I’m going… All are welcome to tag along beside me if you can keep up, but you will not slow me down. And you cannot hitch a ride.
Today’s Soundtrack: Janelle Monae – Django Jane (And we gon’ start a motherfucking pussy riot/ or we gon’ have to put ’em on a pussy diet)
(Illustrator: Nils Britwum)