10 Reasons Black Men Shouldn’t Release Derogatory Lists About Black Women (A Fuck You Tribute to Ice T)

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Image from mediatakeout.com

Click here to read the original list.

10. Black women don’t need to jump in the pool to have a good time. Is it really about the weave? Most likely not, because women of other races wear just as much as we do! And really, how is not wanting to frolic in germ infested waters with harmful chemicals a REASON to not be with another human being.

This is stupid…

09. Black women are not afraid to challenge you. Do you want a “yes woman” or an active partner who will mentally stimulate you? I’m a grown ass woman, I’m not trying to fight you, but I do know there is a time to fall back and submit in a relationship and a time speak up. A romantic relationship does not give a man free reign to control your life.

Futhermore, there are weak women with low self-esteem of every race. To make the general statement that white women don’t talk back or argue is careless and racist. Sooo, you just insulted your girl, too.

08. It’s easier to introduce them to family. “Hey, this is Shaniqua.” Versus, “Hey this is Becky, my trophy girlfriend and gateway to finally escaping my black race. I hate myself and I have low self-esteem so I chose a woman with the lightest skin and the biggest (surgically enhanced) ass which is ok as my personal choice. However, I choose to shit on other black women and discourage other men from dating them as well because I’m a piece of shit human being with house slave mentality.”

07. Black women have no ceilings in the bedroom…we just don’t brag about it in Playboy or in the streets. When everyone finds out your woman is a freak in the sheets, they all start trying to fuck her (hence the lovely CoCo cheating on you multiple times)

06. Black women don’t need to be in a rap video. Who hurt you, boo? Sounds like you ran into a run of the mill gold digger and (surprise!) those come in all races. There are gorgeous black women in rap videos and there are ratchet women… but if you google their names you won’t find their vaginas all over the internet.

05. Black women spoil men minus the TMZ or social media coverage. In the bedroom, in the kitchen and in faithfulness and loyalty; material gifts do not equal love. Kim Kardashian gave Kanye a birthday present…ok, but the genital herpes she gave him proooobably didn’t get quite the same news coverage.

04. Any grown man should know that if you are treating a woman the way you should you won’t hear any complaining or nagging in the first place. Nagging is the sign that you are not making your girl happy period. Coco doesn’t go through your phone because she knows if you returned the favor you’d find out about ALL THE OTHER DUDES SHE’S SLEEPING WITH, old man!

03. Do you remember the sweat glistening on your mother’s black skin as she cooked and cleaned and took care of you? So who says black women don’t cook or clean? Furthermore, submission and service come out of a place of love, not for a man to hold over a woman as a control device. As I maintain house and home, what are you doing to uphold your part? Is she your girl or your white slave?

02. You ever hit a naturally big booty from the back?

01. Stupid women who don’t know any better are more fun. Period. I watch Keeping up with the Kardashians and only Khloe is even mildly interesting. A white woman is not more fun than I am because she can jump in a pool and pretends your penis is huge during oral sex. Women are not accessories or play toys, we are human beings and your list is bullshit you fucking sellout

In conclusion, stop parading around these HOES as if they are somehow better than the every day black woman simply because their skin is white. We have enough opposition coming at us from all sides and we don’t need our brothers, fathers, cousins, old washed up Uncle Tom ass rappers to disrespect us on top of that. You can date whoever the hell you want, we don’t want to be with someone who will make us ashamed of who we are anyway. Kanye felt he had to take several showers after being with Amber Rose but his current wife is famous for a (boring) sex tape she made with one of the biggest scumbags on the Hollywood D list. White is not always right, and when you are nonwhite and proclaim as much you are just broadcasting to the world that you hate yourself.

Maybe try rewriting this list when you at least have a wife comfortable in her own horribly aging skin, minus the plastic surgery and minus all the nudes and the hoe reputation. Please and thank you 🙂

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Apology Accepted

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Apology accepted. I needed to hear this. I am a little ashamed to admit that sometimes living up to the increasingly demanding beauty standards of the black man is frustrating.
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I am still disproportionately salty that my booty doesn’t twerk
If only my stomach were flatter I could better appreciate my worth
If only my arms were thinner and my smile could be more perfect
Then I could be these women getting all of this attention, love and
Affection
is what is craved, and the chance to be loved for who I am
Outwardly tall and proud is how I stand
but in weakest moments I can’t help but seek approval from a man

Visit my website for more: http://www.whiskeyandpoetry.com

Apples for Oranges

It is a strange paradox how the world treats us as if we don’t matter or exist, while simultaneously immersing themselves in our culture. We are some of the best people. We love the hardest, bring a cool swagger to everything we do, are inclusive yet coquettish, aloof and hard to read—passionate, longsuffering, loyal—all of those things. Still, I wonder; what are we going to DO with all of this anger.

Anger and passion

Oh, the Humanity

…seems to be missing from us lately, and some of us have become so cruel in our “I don’t give a fuck about anybody else but me and my people” mentality. I take pride in my identity; I find causes that I believe in and fight passionately for them in ways that I feel I can contribute. All the while, I try to remember that if I want what matters to me to matter to others at the very least I should continue to show respect for the lives of others. There is so much chaos going on in this world, every event and social issue cannot possibly relate back to my cause. At a certain point I have to examine whether I am comparing apples to oranges because of misguided emotion and bitterness.

There was fear in my heart just days ago, watching the news and the accounts of the terrorism in France. Terrorism is the kind of godlessness that makes you collapse to your knees and pray for the release that is the end of the world. Who wants to continue to live this way in suffering while bearing witness to the suffering of others? My Facebook page is a sea of red, white and blue in vertical lines—it is also an ocean of information that I simply did not know.

Apparently this past April, there was a similar terrorist attack at a college campus in Kenya. That familiar sinking feeling burrowed itself deeper in the pit of my stomach—why am I just now hearing about THIS attack? Why was there no Facebook flag app for THIS? I knew the reason—hence the feeling of dread in my belly. Fact: the lives of the ones with brown faces do not matter to the general public as much. The media does not find our plight interesting. The loss of lives in “savage country” is inevitable and deemed not newsworthy. We are the last page of your newspaper, a buried link on your social media timeline– we are an afterthought. The sheer outrageousness of this boils inside of me and it takes a whole hell of a lot of compassion to rise just above it in order overcome those feelings of resentment and bitterness. Who am I really mad at? And when the fire in my belly is extinguished, do I allow the ashes to cool into a pile of apathy? Perhaps cruelty? In our efforts to spotlight that we are people that do matter in this world, are we negating the value of other lives lost as a result of senseless violence…of other lives lost period?

When White People Speak

…they are immediately shut down and told to have several seats. For people who speak out of their asses, intent on trolling and spewing ignorance I am all for this. However, not every white or non-black person is wrong, or hateful or racist. Not every NON-BLACK cause is ANTI-black. Caring about the hundreds of people killed in a brutal terrorist attack does not mean that you do not care about the social and racial issues happening on your home soil. By that same token, changing a Facebook profile picture from one flag versus the other does not mean that one tragedy trumps the other. How much you care shows in your actions, in your charity and how you choose to advocate. Facebook profile shaming is frivolous and petty. We have to be better about not focusing on the negativity we see in the loyalty and passion of others and focusing on our personal goals we are trying to accomplish. No matter what cause you stand for it is not to be compared to that of another. I want to make sure that I can handle the load of apples that I carry without worrying about how the weight compares to your oranges.

Nickie vs. MileyPersonally, I wish we could continue to focus on educating those who are ignorant and fighting alongside those who are in the know. The media will report whatever’s sexy—they will report American politics, movie news, the Kardashians—but it doesn’t mean that the general public has to care about these things. Just because we can’t control the media does not mean we have to be controlled by it. This anger, this frustration and attitude can definitely be channeled toward something more positive that will ultimately help us to better communicate our point of views and bring about changes to the way society thinks. We don’t have to be bullies! When confrontation occurs, I don’t want to turn it into a keeping it real session. When our necks start twisting and the word bitch starts flying around our whole argument becomes lost. We don’t have to play in the field with those who choose to play dirty and we can choose how we channel our negative reactions.

Who is this “we” I speak of? Me and you. The world is hurting, and it’s ok to admit that it’s not just black people. In our efforts to influence the world and serve as voices for our various causes we mustn’t lose sight of our humanity. We are not the only ones who feel pain, and we might be surprised to find that it is those who suffer alongside us who can turn out to be our biggest allies.

Is Having A Man A Luxury?

Independent

As a woman, a black woman at that, I am first to admit that the quest to “have it all” is not an easy one. Juggling career goals, chasing my writing dreams and aspirations outside of the 9 – 5, involvement and engagement in the lives of my children, maintaining relationships with friends and family, carving out time for myself, and finding the time to affirm and cater to the man in my life is kind of like a never-ending whirlwind. At best it is an extremely fulfilling and hectic life; at worst it is enough to make me scream and pull out all of my hair. When the going gets tough—what on that list of things should go?

Last week’s episode of Being Mary Jane gave us a closer look into the life and times of Mary’s best friend and co-worker, Kara. Enter Kara: savvy career woman, part-time single mom trying to make time for her kids, navigate her strained relationship with her ex-husband and maintain a sexy affair with the generous and considerate man in her life. She flubs a school parent/teacher meeting, screws up her work schedule and has to stay late missing out on her date with New Boo who was kind enough to bring takeout dinner to her place of work, along with a shoulder to lean on. THIS is a good man. However, in the eventual reorganization of her life goals and priorities, at the end of the episode HE was the first to get rifted. I….do not get this.wpid-img_20140930_081126.jpg

All the ladies, independent—put your hands down, have a seat and listen. I suppose it is nice to tout things like, “I don’t need a man,” “I take care of myself” etc—I get it. But it’s also REALLY nice to lay on a warm, hairy chest (or no hair, whatever you like) and vent about your stupid co-workers while shedding tears of sheer exhaustion. It is wonderful to be down to your last two dollars and have someone hand you a twenty dollar bill and make your broke ass some dinner. Dare I even mention the joys of sexual healing? Moreso than that, does anything beat the comfort and security that comes along with sharing intimacy with a person who has seen you naked in body and in spirit? We have friends and family that we are close to, but it doesn’t get any closer than the person who leaves a wet spot on your sheets after lovemaking, who talks to you about deep life events while taking a massive shit and snores softly in your ear some mornings—the smell of their morning breath fresh on your nostrils. All these things are not a luxury to me…they are a gift.

I struggle so much. At peak schedule I try to do at least two poetry open mic events a week, I scrape in time with the kids—and honestly most of that time I spend curbing my irritation at the things they didn’t do, or the last minute homework or project or doctor’s appointment that is being thrown my way. The morning is a flurry of activity getting the kids ready, the painful commute to work, the pretending to be a nice person at the job for 9 hours, the hustle home—and somewhere in between there’s maintaining social media accounts to advertise the blog and actually writing and posting original content for the blog. By 10pm I am lying in bed fighting back tears because I know I need to take my out of shape ass to the gym. So I go. I am sweating on the elliptical, hating life and wishing for death –when I get the text that my man is finally home from his 12 hour workshift. I push a little harder on that last 15 minutes of cardio, I leave the gym with pep in my step and I drive 20 miles up the highway to get to him by 11pm at night. Just before I see his face I feel this tension in my forehead and I think to myself, “Why am I doing this? I can’t live like this—something has to give!” He opens the door smiling brightly, immediately makes me laugh and gathers me in a hug every time. Weight=lifted.

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Never under estimate the life that a loving relationship can breathe into your soul. I am barely sleeping trying to maintain it all but when I leave him I feel a hefty deposit has been made into my zeroed out bank account. Even if I just make it through his door and pass out on sheets that smell of him—it is enough to be that close to his comforting presence. The grind life, the busy life, the super single mom life is overrated to me. We are so willing these days to sacrifice interpersonal relationships when I truly believe that these are the only things we can actually take with us when we die. Companionship is awesome, and we allow ourselves to forget that because we are lonely and don’t want to admit our true desires or because we are so busy filling our time with being busy that we don’t have time to realize we might be missing something. In this day and age, having a man is not a necessity but I surely don’t see it as a luxury as it is sometimes perceived to be—especially to single moms. I love my children and somewhere along the way I learned that it’s ok to love myself and take care of my needs as well. Companionship–relationship adds to my life and who I am as a mother, writer, friend… person. We treat men as if they are expendable accessories then wonder why they have so much trouble committing to us. We want to parade them around on Instagram, have them buy us things and tell us we’re pretty then the moment life gets rough we try to drop them for fear of being abandoned in time of need or maybe because deep down we truly believe that they are a luxury that we don’t deserve to have in our lives.

If anyone has never told you: you do deserve to have a good man in your life if that’s what you truly want. You deserve to have help and affection and attention from someone who cares about you and your busy life. If you are willing to sacrifice sleep and time away for the sake of having it all, why not do the same for a person on your team whose goal is to help you along the way? Is a dependable, supportive, consistent and loving man in your life a luxury to be given up when the going of life gets tough? I think not…

Believe

I am growing a bit tired of myself. Every single day of my 30s it seems I am subject to experiencing something—even if it’s a minor occurrence—that has the potential to upset my world and rock my little foundation that I so carefully put together in my self-righteous 20s. For example, just last night I was perusing a love and marriage blog out of curiosity and boredom. After reading an article about the concept of “soulmates” (romantic or otherwise) I realize that I don’t believe in the idea of soulmates and the hype that goes along with it. Coming to that realization was a little surprising to me and one my friends even said, “Really? You being more of a free-spirited type I would think that you would…”As it turns out; NOPE

Does God really predetermine our lives and place us in the position to receive/meet this soulmate(s)? Or along our path, are we given the free will to make the choice of who to love and how much we will allow our bond to grow and endure with that person? I am not sure. I remember my two most meaningful relationships feeling as if the universe sanctioned our coupling. I felt the satisfying “this is where I belong,” and “this is where God wants me to be” emotions but in the end I feel like those same feelings made the breaking up process that much more difficult. Those very phrases turned into “Why would God do this to me?” and “Now we are not together where do I belong?” In the long run, I ended up fighting so hard for relationships that were not meant to be—and that’s not because the stars didn’t align the right away or I was outside of God’s will—but because it was time for me to choose better and move on. The action and effort that went into moving on emotionally from persons that I believed to be my true soulmates ended up being one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. It nearly killed me.

I still remember sex and intimacy with these men that I felt I was destined by God to be with. It felt impassioned and frantic, exciting and maybe a little scary. On some level, which I could never identify at the time, it felt out of my control. I am only 31 now but I feel I’ve gone through some things; as far as my romantic relationship goes I feel more settled. I am a willing part of intimacy and it is not cosmic forces and divine intervention. Love is not happening to me, I am not falling but I am making the choice to leap. Closeness and sexual acts no longer feel like a chaotic smorgasbord of unbridled emotion and sensations and love is not a place to belong. I always have a place within in me that I can call home. Life is all the more better with him in it but were I to lose him, were we to lose each other, I believe we would be able to find survival in the homes that we built inside of ourselves without missing the remnants we may have left inside of each other.

Regarding love and relationships, all of the things I thought I had such passion and belief in are so far behind me. The special wounds and empty spaces in my heart I never thought would heal or fill are an afterthought. I don’t have a soft spot for these past “soulmates”; I was able to move on and love again. I was able to choose love again, and I am happy that I didn’t succumb to the despair of my past thought processes that maybe I didn’t have much choice about who to love and how. It makes me wonder– what other ideals have I always used to define myself that have since fallen away…?

Urban dictionary

Soulmate: A person with whom you have an immediate connection the moment you meet — a connection so strong that you are drawn to them in a way you have never experienced before. As this connection develops over time, you experience a love so deep, strong and complex, that you begin to doubt that you have ever truly loved anyone prior. Your soulmate understands and connects with you in every way and on every level, which brings a sense of peace, calmness and happiness when you are around them. And when you are not around them, you are all that much more aware of the harshness of life, and how bonding with another person in this way is the most significant and satisfying thing you will experience in your lifetime. You are also all that much aware of the beauty in life, because you have been given a great gift and will always be thankful.