Black Women

Peace.

I was having a conversation with one of our patients yesterday. I'm super friendly with patients... it's part of the job. And it's authentic.... even though I don't aspire to be a “nice” person.... but anyway.... We were both Black women just shooting the breeze about how we navigate this wilderness.....

And I realize... It is so fucking hard to exist in this country being a Black person and additionally being female. I wanna say that we aren't supported by the men of our race... But that's a build for another time.

I'm an inconsistent outside runner. I say inconsistent because if the weather is bad I don't run. And I don't have a treadmill or a gym membership so there is no running indoors. I like being outside. Anywho.... I have had numerous life lessons associated with running outdoors.... (1) always make sure your clothes match. If not, and your Black, you look like your fleeing from a crime scene. That's one of the reasons I don't run in the cold. Because to layer up to warmth has me looking like a thief. Especially if my face is partially covered. Here is the thing... when I go over to areas where white folks are known to run and they dress ragedy.... they look like runners. Not to me, but to other people. So the lesson I took from that is that as a Black person I have to look non-intimidating otherwise I will be detained by the police. Even though I'm a woman....

But because I'm a woman I have learned (2) to be prepared to prove... if possible... that I am actually running and not 'solicitating'. This shit pisses me way the fuck off. Basically, folks see me on the street and just assume I'm a hoe. Nevermind that I am exercising in my own damn neighborhood. The only reason for a Black WOMAN to be outdoors is because she is looking to have illicit sex with strangers for money? But... there are Black male runners in my hood. We've had the occasional convo. They too get stopped by the police, but it is never for soliciting. It's always a check. Funny, I get the checks too and the extras.

I don't like them 'checks' either. Not only because it's an insult to me, but because you search for zones when running. To stop in the middle throws the entire run off. Because you either cool down and slow your heart rate. And you want your heart rate to hit a certain spot and maintain it there, That makes you stronger as a person and stronger as a runner. If your training for respectable distances than this is a problem getting frequently pulled over.

Problem (3) So, don't run in my own neighborhood. Run on dedicated tracks. Well..... on holidays and weekends I can run at the local school's track... if they allow it. Sometimes they do, sometime they don't. It's all about how they feel and what's going on. If soccer practice is happening or school is session you aren't welcome. So there is no true consistency in there. I could go to trails.... But the trails in this county have histories of women being raped and killed there. I'd be running alone so....... yeah no. I'd rather be accused of whoredom than killed. I could run the beltline... I could... I have.... But the beltline is for white people. No there's no 'white's only' sign but there might as well be. I've run the beltline.... By the time you find a place to leave your car... most of the spots over there are metered..... And get to running... the white runners treat you like you have ebola and want to infect their babies. And the cops ARE GOING to stop you and question you about how you got loose from your hood. You better have your license and some cash in your pocket or they could get you for vagrancy or loitering. Running while Black is a real thing.

It's not just running. I'm marginalized at every opportunity by him/devil. I was in a restaurant with some girlfriends and we were sitting at the bar. Every time we ordered something we were asked to pay immediately. As a former bartender, that immediately got my attention. If you want people to keep drinking and ordering items, you don't make them pay after every order. Mentally when people pay, they are ready to go. My friends paid... I waited. I told the bartender I wasn't done with my order and retained the menu. I observed the bartender running tabs for all the white people but insisting that all the Black people pay up front. I decided on water and when we left and my girls were about to tip the bartender, I told them to stop. The bartender got mad and told me that he was entitled to tips. That was enough to insure my friends were NOT going to tip. But I informed him... loudly... that I observed him running tabs for white people, but not for Black people. He said Black people run out on bills. He just insured that all the other Black people sitting there weren't going t tip.

I don't have to tell you about being followed in stores. All Black people get that. I don't have to tell you about the everyday racism and discrimination that all Black people face. But as a woman... I get extra special discrimination. Here is a list of things people assume when they look at me.....

I have several children.... by different men.
I have never been married.
I live in the projects
I was raised by any other female relative other than my biological mother
I'm on welfare or have been on it at some point
I have a relative in jail.
I've never voted.
I have some hustle going on.
My hair isn't real.
I'm uneducated.
I work a menial job.
I don't know my father well or at all.
I have bad credit.
I turn up every Saturday night with brown liquor and then praise white Jesus all day on Sunday.

This is some bullshit to have to wake up knowing I'm going to have to face every day. But I do it because there is nothing else to do. But since it's wrong... I do get to bitch about it.

I'm exhausted.


Peace

profanity and ebonics

I hate bitch assed haters. I know I'm supposed to make my haters my motivators, but I (a) have too many and (b) I can find folks more inspiring..... The topic of this particular rant are these Southern Peach chicas who think that the way they do shit is the only way it can be done.

I do my own nails. When I moved to my current address it was over an hour round trip to my regular technician. I braved it for a few months.... the shops here are too ghetto/unprofessional.... they make you wait when there are no clients, yet plenty of techs in the back. When they make me wait at the minimal 30 minutes in an empty shop.....I leave with about 5 bottles of their polish. My time is worth something. Another shop tried to rob me by charging you me shit they ain't do. I called on chick out on it and she called the police on me like that was supposed to scare me. Really... she learned that day. The police sided with me! I have a car. I can go anywhere I choose. That's one half of this particular hater coin. The other half is I decided to do my own nails. I went to the BSS, bought all the shit and do my own nails. You cannot tell that the Asians ain't do them. I used to do my own nails when I was in grad school. I got proficient enough to do other folks nails. I like to feel some luxury so when I started working steady I let someone else do them for me. I can do most things to my nails with the exception of airbrushed designs. So where is the hate?

My real estate agent made a comment about how thick my nails where. I don't normally discuss my grooming habits with folks. Because people be wanting to share opinions about shit that ain't their business. I HATE unsolicited advice. But.... I was eating and all in my feelings about my vittles. I was distracted and said, “I make them thick because they don't crack.” She caught that and said, “You do your own nails??? You can't tell....” I said, “Isn't that the point?” The convo went on for a hot second about how and why. Now I catch her constantly checking my hands to see the status of my nails. If she deems them busted she makes sure to mention it. Here's the thing.... my nails are never busted. I don't have to wait until nail day to do make adjustments. But the polish may chip or I might be growing them out a bit from the cuticle. I don't need this trick to be up on my hands. And I know she only does that to me because she knows I do my own nails. Another of our colleagues... who gets her nails done... I asked her why she didn't comment on her nails. She said, “Oh she gets hers done professionally.” I need new friends.....

Another chick who knows I sew, is always asking me last minute to make repairs. She has no compunction to show up at the crib and say, “I need you to hem this, I'm wearing it in 15 minutes.” Once might be okay. But now I avoid her like herpes. And because of this she shades my name amongst our so-called friends. I'm not compassionate. I hoard my talents. Had she asked in a reasonable time frame, I might accommodate her. I TOLD her her shit is shady. This means nothing to her. I've asked why she doesn't go to the cleaners and let them do her alterations.... She literally said, “They charge too much.” which means she doesn't want to pay. This bitch buys garments and fabric with me doing something with them in mind. We don't speak anymore. Seriously... I avoid her like I do the Jehovah's Witnesses.

I think I'm pissed because I must appear as an easy mark. Just because I can do something, doesn't mean I want to do it for you or that my homemade version is somehow low budget. It's not. My clothes fit me well without pinning or wearing spanx. No, you can't come to my house and have me cook you some food. The only grown people I cook for is Precise and my mother. If you come to the crib, you can't drink up my liquor or assume control over my remote control. You cannot. You didn't pay for the privilege. I'm over being nice and sharing. Because in this day and age folks don't share back. And I'm over your judging... especially if you can't do what I do. I'm not broke, and that's why I make my own clothes. I make my own clothes because it's a hobby I love and I can.... So fuck you bitches!!!!

I don't do this to people. You invite to your home to break bread, I'm bringing something and inviting you back to mine. I do reciprocity. Not the "68 and I'll owe you 1" type shit. I only drink if I brought a bottle. And when I leave. I don't ask for plates and I don't take my brought shit back. If I know someone has a skill, I compensate them for the ability. I don't do freebies and hookups. I'm the best friend ever. But I know and understand how to use the word “No”. But as far as these damn haters go.... I have no problem throwing the 1st punch.

Kool-Aid

Peace.

I am really sick of folks that drink the Kool-Aid and ask for more.....

Me and the 7 are looking into purchasing a home. We got pre-approved for a nice sum. But even with the amount that we were approved for we have been looking for a house that is in an Original neighborhood. Those homes are cheaper, because Black neighborhoods are considered bad regardless of the reality. That's what I want. I'm Black. Why would I not want to live in an exclusively Black neighborhood?

So my Kool-Aid loving Black friends are like... “Why do you want to do that to yourself?” and “Don't you want to live in a nice neighborhood?” This one is my favorite, “What about the resale value of your property?” Really... damnit ... REALLY?????

The 7 had concerns too, but just for a second. He was concerned about the low rating of schools for children we don't have. His thinking was... if the children are knuckleheads then they will be wilding out all up and through. I love him. So I forgive him for that.

Here is the thing.... For a neighborhood to be considered bad, and consequently the schools.... they must have a qualifying factor. That qualifying factor is minorities. If minorities are present it brings the property value down. This is why white folks claim they don't want Black folks living in their neighborhoods. Fine to work, just don't live there. Yes there are other things that bring it down, but those things are usually associated.... WRONGFULLY...with minorities. So.... if there are 10 homes on a city Block and 9 of them are occupied with white people and 1 home is occupied with Black people, then the value of the neighborhood is reduced significantly. The same goes for schools. The more minorities in the school, the lower the rating.

What that means for me as a Black person, as a member of a Black family, is that my presence alone is enough to cause a neighborhood to decline. What am I supposed to do with that? Nothing I can do. I can't stop being Black. And more importantly, I don't care. I didn't make that rule, I'm not going to play a game that is designed for me to lose. We work good square jobs. We have enough money to damn live anywhere. We will buy where we choose. We choose to live in a Black neighborhood. But why????

I never speak about this, because it makes me uncomfortable.... But I'm a Dentist. I attended a PWI school. They gave me money. And out of 98 students in my class, 3 of us were Black. Dental school in itself is stressful. But adding the extra pressure of being a Black female..... I felt like I was pledging and hazed for 4 years. The other 2 Black students were a couple and for some reason we weren't friends. If I wanted friends, they would have to be white. But white people never let you forget who is white and who isn't. My best friends included a girl who was considered PWT and the only Muslim person. That's it. So many jokes were made at my expense. I was touched, without permission, by a white male because he wanted to know if I was “thick” or just fat. He learned the term and was itching to use it. Another dude was certain I had a clutch of children somewhere. Never mind we were the same age. And he felt he was too young to have children. They did birthday celebrations for every student, they served chitterlings for my celebration. They were surprised I was offended and didn't partake. None of the 3 did. They served fried chicken for the other female and ribs for the other male. They just knew I and the other Black female could sing. And the Black man, they knew he could hoop and rap. My parents attended an event, and they were shocked that they'd been married and that I knew my father. They asked my parents if this was their 1st time at a university. My parents both hold advanced degrees and met in college. We 3 Black people attended a xmas party that was thrown out of fees that we were required to contribute to the class. We sat at the same table the entire event and only left each other to get food. We chose not to drink because knew something was going to happen. I have never seen a party this wild at 3pm. These white people drank and trashed the bar while the owners and staff looked on and said nothing. But at the end of the event, the 3 Black people were held by the police. They didn't know my Daddy. I called him when the event got out of hand. And he, his attorney, and the media showed up as they were trying to force us into a police car. I could go on.... I have 4 years of hell that I endured all for a degree that I don't use. I actually considered withdrawing, but the dean of the school... the mfing DEAN... told me I'd be better suited as a hair dresser. That's why I stayed. To show forth and prove my power. But to whom? And for what? So when I say that I as a Black person want my home.... my sanctuary.... my respite..... to be with other Black folks, I have my reasons.

When I moved to GA with my late 1st husband, we lived in an apartment complex were the people were VERY diverse. There were all kinds of people there. one evening, the Confederate flag waving white people would have bbq's in non-bbq areas and dare the staff to challenge them. I called the police, because I needed to move my car and they refused while shouting racial epithets at me. When the police came, they forced them to allow me passage, but didn't stop their shindig. When my husband got home, the party was still going strong. He decided to park his car and walk to the apartment. But that caused him to have to walk through the actual bbq. They assumed he was mine... not husband but baby daddy. Since we were the only Black people living in that section and they called me all manner of whore and slut, because they were mad that I had the audacity to call the police on them. I was sure of 2 things then... (a) I didn't want to ever live in an apartment complex again and (b) I didn't want to live in a mixed community. And I've not.

A Black friend of mine moved here from NJ. She and her family had 2 requirements: a house away from the city and a white neighborhood because they wanted good schools. Again, she didn't realize that good = white. The ratings are based on amounts of minorities and by having her children in said schools, she was lowering their ratings. So she and her husband bought. The first xmas she put out decorations. It was a Santa and reindeer and some big candles. It wasn't over the top and more importantly it was similar to what her neighbors put up. Night 1: they were turned upside down. They put them back upright. They assumed weather was the culprit. Really? Night 3: they were grafitti'ed... now if only Black people do that, and they were the only Black people in the neighborhood, what went wrong here? When they called the police, they were asked if possibly their own children did it. After much cleaning they put their decorations back up. Night 5: they drove to their church (dad is a UM preacher so....) for a xmas concert and when they got back, the decoration were on fire. Draw the most logical conclusions. And again the police did nothing. They eventually moved.

Why would you force yourself into a neighborhood where are aren't wanted and spend your gold to prove your worthiness? If it's lifestyle, there are upscale Black neighborhoods. And bougie Black people are a trip. Your tax dollars pay the police to treat you like a criminal. And the schools to categorize your child. My Realtor lives in a Black neighborhood but sends her baby to a white school. They called and told her that they were suspending her son for threatening another child. Not for actually beating the boy's ass, but threatening to. I was with her when she got the call. She was 38 hot. She started talking to herself and randomly pacing. When her husband went to the school to pick the boy up.... He found they accused his son erroneously. The son has a “white” sounding name. A white child threatened the boy, but they just assumed it was the Black boy with the same name. No apologies have been issued as of this writing.

When I bought a home with my 1st husband, it was a beautiful home in a beautiful neighborhood. A beautiful Black neighborhood. Minimal crime. Folks kept their homes up. It was a real community. So the premise that All Black folks live in the projects is way off. I grew up in a home that my parents owned in a Black neighborhood. Most of my neighbors and friends, all lived similarly. My upbringing was more Huxtables than it was Evans. The home my current 7 and I are considering is again a nice home in a nice Black neighborhood. I work all day for and with white folks. I'm not playing nice at home.

Another issue that people don't consider is if you are a Black person living in a white neighborhood, you are not going to have useful amenities. Black and white people are different and have different needs. Hair product, Hair salons, barber shops, churches, funeral homes, make up, certain foods.... All these things you will have to travel to Black neighborhood to get.

I guess the gist of this long assed rant that I'm calling a build... is just because it's white... doesn't make it superior. You drank the fucking Kool-aid if you think it does.... you either need to reconsider your thinking or get the fuck on.


Peace

Successful Relationships

Peace!

I don't know why people aren't more successful at relationships. Wait... I do know. And I'm going to put it all out there in this Build.

One reason why folks are unhappy in relationships is because they want stuff that doesn't go together. If you want a partner who has money, unless you find one who inherited wealth or hit the number, then s/he is not going to be super available. S/He has to work. Ladies and Gentlemen... You are not allowed to complain that your spouse/lover/partner works too much. You just can't. It's not allowed. On the flip side, If you want a partner that is super attractive, then their part time job is themselves. They aren't cooking for you and they aren't cleaning for you, they are working out and spending money on clothes, nails, facials, etc. It's how it works. You can't have your woman all freaky with a low man count. It doesn't work like that. You can't have a skinny chick that can cook her ass off. Doesn't go together. And you can't have a man with no hang ups that has baby mamas. You have to be super honest about what you want and what you're willing to put up with.

Second reason people ain't happy with the partner they have is they don't realize that when you are in a committed relationship... your partner is the numero uno. Not your homie, not your mama, not your best friend. Allowing other people in your relationship is synonymous with cheating. You ARE cheating, though. You are sharing affections with other people. You need to be "all in" "ride or die" with your partner and no one else. You need to put your partner above your children... if they are the parent of said children. If they are not the parent then the water becomes murky. You now have the only allowed 2 primary relationship situation. But if you and your partner are parents of the same children... then your relationship comes 1st. Them kids gonna be alright as long as y'all alright. One day those kids are going to leave, and if you really don't know who this other person is in your house, problems will arise.

Also, never argue with your partner in public. And never argue dirty. Anything you say to your partner will NEVER be forgotten. I have memories of how my 1st husband fought dirty he's been dead for 13 years. I would never argue with him in public. Not never. I would never discuss him with my friends or family. I would never borrow money from other people because I saw it as a disgrace that he couldn't take care of us. Our business was just that. Ours! And when we argued... oh, I could have said some hurtful shit. But I held back. And now I'm super satisfied that I always represented him well.

So folks, I've just fixed all your relationship problems. Your life should be all gravy from here on out.



Peace

Big Girl Problems....

Peace.

I'm super stressed y'all. I have no idea what to do about it. I wanna just bury my head in the sand, but I know I can't.... My mother is sick. Like really sick... or is she?

My mother is 77. A woman that age, with her lifestyle... and by lifestyle, I mean my mother would get diagnosed with some illness like diabetes and continue to eat what she wanted because she had a pill that would keep her from dying. Same with her high blood pressure, her congestive heart disease, her vertigo, her knee replacement, her sleep apnea, her everything. And she would scoff at doctors who would tell her to change her habits. So my mom is now really kind of debilitated.

Here is the thing.... I have asked her to move to Georgia and live with me. She has refused. My mother and I don't get along... We never have. Asking her to live with me was as crushing to me as it would be if she actually did move in with me. She doesn't have dementia... she gets tested yearly... so she gets to make her own decisions about how she wants to live her life. I have made suggestions that she should move into an independent care facility. That's not a nursing home. It's a spot where other old people live. It would give me some peace because folks would be paying attention to whether or not she's still alive. She can bring her own car and do just as much or as little as she wants. She owns 2 homes and instead of selling them, she can get a property management company to manage them and use the rental money to pay for her housing arrangements. Plus she was a teacher. She makes more retired than I make working. But... She refuses to listen to me. She'll listen to anyone else but me..

This is what she wants... She wants me to move.. just me and not the God... to SC and live with her waiting on her hand and foot. I owe it to her for raising me, I suppose. I don't want to do that. I'm NOT doing that. I have lived in GA for 16 years. I have a job that I've held for 12 years. I have a home here. The 7 has a job that he loves here that he plans to retire from. I've never lived in SC, other than to attend college. That experience was enough to assure that I was not ever going to live permanently in SC. Between her and me, she's the most mobile. She's not working. She can live in a senior home here in Atlanta. Why am I expected to uproot my life?

But is she as sick as she says? When I talk to her she ALWAYS sound like she's about to die. But if I call her from a different phone she sounds normal and coherent. Once she realizes it's me she goes into sounding sick.

Talking to my mother has never been easy. We are completely different. My mother is a master manipulator. I've seen it. So I will never trust anything that she says, She faked a diabetic episode in front of a bunch of people to make me look bad. It was at a family reunion that she was mad at me because it wouldn't go pick her up. Like I said... we don't really like each other. She wanted me to drive 4 hours to her house to pick her up, then drive another 4 hours to the reunion. I know my mother, she would have me running her errands all while complaining that I was a horrible disappointment to her. It was only a 2 hour drive from my house to the reunion hotel. So to prove to me that I was indeed a horrible daughter she faked a diabetic episode while at lunch. Here is the thing... diabetics don't have those episodes while eating. They have them when their blood sugar is low. She had everyone but me going, including the wait staff. I asked for a doggie bag and she instantly snapped out of her seizure to tell me to leave the food right where it was. My mother HATES doggie bags. That's when she was busted. And all the people at the table saw it.

Another annoying thing about our relationship is she lies. I hate to say that about my mother, but it's true. I HATE to take any gift that she offers because she will misconstrue to the people in her Cipher as support. And for some reason, these people will call me and voice their displeasure. Her boyfriend called me one day all pissed because of something and he said, “you have your mother paying your bills.” This was news to me. I asked “What bills?” My birthday is November so there was a check for that and she sent me another check for Christmas. It's crazy. My mother disliked my brother's wife so much, and got one her friends all riled up and the woman went into my sil's job and started a physical fight with her. SMH.... And these people being my mother's friends are like aunties. You feel like you gotta respect them even though they are way out of their lane.

My brother... the love of her life (her words, not mine).... died in May. She's not taking it well. And that's expected. All of her plans were as such... Everything she owns goes to him. Yup. All of it. He's older. She said he “would do right by me.” I have always known this. I told you we don't get along. She has been telling me, since he turned 18 that he would see to my care. I was 8 at the time and my father was very much alive and involved in my life. But she set my brother up to be my legal guardian if something happened to her? Hell! She wasn't my legal guardian! Anywho... she claimed that she needed to change her will so that I could inherit her stuff. She still doesn't like my sil. OK. Why I gotta be there for that? I cannot run up and down I20 every time my mother says boo.

So my mother is sitting in her home holding court... the center of all folks attention. And she is dogging me out, because that will bring her more attention. She telling folks I refuse to visit. I've been there 3 times since my brother died. My cousin want to use her home as a pit stop for all her indigent friends. Cousin thinks that the best option. But it isn't her decision to make. She acts like she doesn't know that. But who knows what my mother has said to her? All the rest of the SC family thinks I'm a horrible person for not giving up my life for hers. I get daily phone abuse. I can't ignore the phone calls because it might actually be one of her doctors or an emergency.

I'm doing all I know how to do. I feel like it's not enough. But I'm not going to drive myself crazy over something that has no resolution. But it's still keeping me up at night.

Thanks for reading.

****Sigh****


Peace

Cultural Misappropriation?

Peace!


This is a trend that I have been watching for a moment now. It's also something I have been giving serious consideration to....

Currently “tribal prints” and “ankara” are trending. In regular-speak, African prints. They are all over the runways. And when that happens, white folks pick it up. Well I can't stand seeing white people in African print. It's not for them. But guess what? As a Black-American, I don't touch Native American Culture... it's not mine, Indian culture... it's not mine, Asian Culture... it's not mine. As much as I would love to wear a sari, I won't. Africans don't like any non-Africans wearing their tribal prints. Not even Black Americans. Apparently, it's not for us either.

I've had the experience of wearing an “African outfit” and some Africans getting all up in my grill. They were what I'd call aggressive. (I've been told that's how they interact and there isn't hostility there) They flat out told me to not wear the print unless it was a special occasion. Work didn't qualify as a special occasion. Hmm....

Another time I was in an African store that sold fabric (along with other things). When I took some fabric to the counter to be cut, the owner asked me what was I going to do with it. I told her I was planning to make a skirt. She asked where I was planning to wear said skirt. That earned her a side eye. How is this her business? But I went along and answered her. I said to work. She shook her head and said the fabric was too special for that. So before she cut it, I gave her an option... either cut it, make the sale and stop trippin' about what I'm a do with it, or..... keep it in the store. She sold it to me with no more conversation. I even get emails to let me know what they have on sale.

Here is my question... If you don't want folks wearing your stuff.... Why sell it? What the hell do you think folks are going to do with 2 yards of ankara print?

I have often wondered what Africans feel when they see Black Americans wearing their print. I see why white folks should be shunned, But us too? I know we aren't Africans... but Really??? It makes sense on paper, but the Reality of things is you don't know a pigmented person is Purely African unless they say so.

I get skeeved out when I see white folks practice Hoodoo, Santaria, Palo, Vodun, or any of the ATRs. I mentioned that I don't like to see white people wearing African print. I don't like them wearing dreadlocks or cornrows either. I don't acknowledge white rappers... well maybe 3rd Base, but that's it! And Rachel Dolezal....? I can't ! White people have a track record of stealing culture, bastardizing it and then selling it back to us for a profit. But Black people don't do that....Can't do that... we do not HAVE the power to do that. All we can do is advertise. I wonder what they think when Rihana... who is not African, but West Indian.... wears their print? Beyonce wears a lot of ankara too.... But that might be different since they are famous. Famous people get passes for all sorts of things...

This is how I see this.... Since Africans have these issues, I won't buy it anymore. But I will use what I have in my stash. But if Africans wanna be truly Gully about preserving their traditions.... then don't sell it. Being on this end of the controversy is interesting.


Peace

http://www.mycoloures.com/2014/10/culture-is-not-costume-why-non-africans.html?showComment=1438695661638#c7875778901119616792

http://www.culturepattern.com/blog/2014/10/opinion-cultural-appropriation-black-americans/

Me

Peace...

No one wants me to be myself. Apparently, myself scares a lot of people or creeps them out.

I am frequently accused of being mean, unapproachable, and scary. I really don't get why that is. I don't think I am. I think I'm just me. But my mother says everyone can't be wrong.

My mother is my primary example. She has never accepted me as is. One of the reasons we don't gel. I don't know what unconditional love is. Never had it. Now that I'm older and I don't need her for necessities, it makes that aspect of our relationship more pronounced.

Consequently, I put on appearances for people. Not all people, just people who I HAVE to deal with. If I need something from you, I'll examine you to figure the best approach. Clients always get a polite me. I can tell when folks are being shady. And the moment our business has concluded... especially so if I KNOW you aren't going to do more business... I get real. Most people can't handle that. I don't know why. It's not nasty. But when we are done you will know you have been dismissed and by me.

The only people who have ever given me feedback are exes. And they can't be trusted or they wouldn't be exes. Other "friends" will tell me that they have been busy and will call me later. But these exes tell me I'm too intense. I require too much of them. And not anything that can be tangibly qualified. They feel like they MUST be men in my presence. They are exhausted once they leave me. I don't know how to take that.

The people who know me as I am and yet accept me... are my dearest friends. Seriously. They've been my friends for years. The newest person to accept me just as I am is my God. And he did that more than 7 years ago. So you can see I go through friends like folks go thru soda. It is what it is.

But what's so wrong with me that people can't accept me? I don't smell. I don't ask for favors. I don't borrow money. It doesn't cost anybody anything to be cool with me. Hmmm.... I'm not losing sleep dwelling on it. It came through my mental.

I thought I'd share....


Peace