Lessons of a Single Black Female: Installment I

While on the phone with my female confidant, unfortunately deeply in my feelings, she expressed to me "Pascale, you need to learn how to be vulnerable when it comes to men; you don't have to always be so protective of your emotions, let them in just a little..." And here I thought that I was finally ready to be in a relationship...Mission aborted!!!

I hate to keep referring to my past relationships, however it is necessary that I do so that I may grow. After two and half relationships--one in which I was fresh meat and really naive, the second in which I lost my self in love, and the half...well it was nothing serious, but two people heavily involved in emotions and I purposely blocked it from going anywhere-- I've learned to not be so vulnerable around men intimately (but not sexually) for fear that they may take advantage of my vulnerability. Thus in my half relationship, the wall was half way built and after he told me that he had an issue with my high pitched (inevitably loud) voice when I became excited (yes I am serious as a heart attack), like mad men preparing for a wicked storm, my wall only grew that much higher in height. 

I don't cry in front of men that I become intimately involved with...I distinctly remember being in an unsuitable relationship (although I did not know it at the time) filled with a lot of grief and worry not to mention not feeling appreciated, one where I was complaining to friends more than glowing and one of my male friends said, Pascale, don't ever let a man see you cry. Words are powerful; I will never forget this individual for those words; however those same words may be what is currently crippling me...

Vulnerability??? Ugh, it's really frustrating because I know how I got to this point and developed this tough exterior, however, how do I get back to the middle, Ms. India Arie??? I am the girl without a happy medium...either it is or it isn't, especially when it comes to my feeling/emotions.

I Want To Be In Love

For the past two years I’ve been of the mindset that I am alone but not lonely, however recently I have had to sit down and be honest with myself…I’m ready to be somebody’s somebody.

I’m ready to have someone to share my daily joys and accomplishments with…

You know someone to look forward to ending the day with whether it be talking each other to sleep at night or ending the day together with late night conversations under the porch light, talking about the things that we both find important in one another’s lives.

You know…I want that genuine type of love, where kisses and engaging in our physical desires are not immediately of utmost importance, but can wait until holy matrimony when we’ve confessed our love before God and our loved ones.

I want this and I want this bad…however not with just anyone but my God-sent-meant-to-be.

I want to spend Sunday afternoon cooking together, with the basketball or football game on if necessary, should he be a die hard sport fanatic (I realize this maybe a long shot, but this is me in my feelings and I’ am allowed to daydream).

You know… I want to spend Saturday evenings walking our dogs, for what is mine shall be his…I want the type of love where we’ll be able to see forever in each others eyes, where he will recognize that I am his and he is mine until we breathe our last breath upon this earth…

You know I want that forever type of love, where the flame never dies, but only grows stronger with time…

I want to be in love, the type of love where we transcend each others being into something so heavenly that no earthly being or thing can interfere with what he and I has…
I want to be in love…

And the Emotions Resurface….

He said that it’s not good to be alone…

that man was not created to be alone,

as I explained to him that I am alone but not lonely;

only to have him further engage in our one of many discussions

and try to “convince” me that I do battle with loneliness from time to time.

And at this we laugh as I vehemently deny my “sometimes loneliness”

and he pokes fun at me and my relationship with my two babies (my doggies);

I afraid of letting him know I’m not always the strong woman that I like to portray myself as…

Yet despite our playful manner in the presence of each other

and the bickering back and forth like 5 year olds afraid of catching coodies from each other;

he is who I secretly daydream of.

Yet, he day dreams of another, a prim donna…

someone whom I would and could never compete with,

see despite her beauty I have more depth and soul than she…

yet he fails to see this and we remain “just friends”,

Biz Markie is on repeat in my head…

I’ve written not countless letters but one…

simply one letter to God, so that He may guide this “friendship”…

I’ve left it at the alter, for what would be the purpose of prayer without faith…

so until our fate is revealed, faith is what I’ll carry with me…

until this friendship becomes more…

No Longer Waiting to Exhale…

I’ve realized that he was an experience that I had to go through to grow…I essentially had to lose myself in love (or what I thought was love) so that I could love myself better (Marsha Ambroisus, you could not have come up with a better song).

Two years later and 500,000 thousand running miles later, I’ve finally learned to exhale and let go of the things in the past…and just be free to be…

My Lack of Assertiveness

Whooo!!! I’ve survived the most grueling semester of grad school! OMG, between Principles in Health Policy and Management, Principles of Behavioral Science and Health Education and Principles of Epidemiology, my head was just above the water amid mentoring my 14yo mentee, being a good Mommy to my Lela bug, holding a position in Future Public Health Professionals and a full time job which I’ve nicknamed an evil necessary, I can rejoice in knowing that I’ve survived the semester with 2 Bs and an A! Amid the craziness of attempting to excel at my studies, I spent my birthday studying for finals and still have yet to celebrate. However, despite it all I cannot complaint because I have a goal in mind, which makes it all worth the hard work. But alas I can breathe… well until the 9th anyway, when my grad school summer hustle begins with rotations at the Florida Dept of Health (which I’m ecstatic about) and two courses leading up to my masters special project, which I have more than a good idea of what my research topic will focus on.

No longer being a young adult and officially entering adulthood has in fact been a learning experience. For one thing, I have learned that should I continue to climb the ladder of success of I must relinquish this passive aggressive attitude that I possess when it comes dealing with confrontation and must learn to a bit more assertive. I cannot emphasize how much I hate confrontation and will avoid any at all cost, but unfortunately, some confrontation cannot be avoided and must be dealt with. I’ve had three experiences (which I do not care to go into detail about) that have confirmed that my passive aggressive nature will get me no where on the road to success. I’ve realized that in attempting to be nice to other and trying not to step on any toes people tend to take my niceness and for granted and take me for weak, thus I’ve made up my mind to start laying everything out on the table of course without being a bitch about it at the same time…We’ll see how this attempt goes…

Jacqueline Novogratz: Inspiring a life of immersion

Built Like a "Black Girl"

***I wrote this in 11/7/2010 and never posted it but in light of recent events in the death of a young woman getting but injections, I thought it was more than appropriate to post this.***

Butt implant death begs question: Do big bottoms lead to the top?

Since I can remember image was everything in my life. Until recently however, I've come to terms that I was not meant to be built the way black girls are supposed to be build according to the psyche of black men, but am content in the slim figure that I've so been blessed with. 

Growing up I can recall how during my sixth grade year, every girl acquired their hips and were full figured "women" except myself; if anything I had two watermelons for breast, which I was more than uncomfortable with, especially among the gawking eyes of nasty  pedophiles---or excuse me older men. Needless to say I mastered the skill of dressing like a tomboy during those years. My uniform culottes were about 2 sizes too big to cover up the fact that my hips had not yet come in and I wore shirts that covered up my abnormal sized breasts. This was the case for as long as I can recall, hoping and praying that my hips would come in and I would one day be a full figured thick black girl, you know the chic with the Coco-Cola Bottled figure. However at age 24, as I continue to evolve into womanhood (an on-going process), my hips have failed to come in according to the definition of what it means to be shaped like a black girl and men may never  learn such etiquette such as it is not polite to glare at a woman's "pronounced" features. I've not only come to terms with my body but even more importantly, I am comfortable and accepting of my image, so much so if  I catch the opposite sex glaring I'll boldly ask may I help them and school them on the etiquette of being a polite man. 

The point in me writing my little spiel is to question when will the black girl's body not be so heavily focused on? Its ridiculous that little girls can not simple be little girls without falling prey to the asinine idea that they must fulfill this bodily image of a coco-cola bottle shaped Kim Kardashian or Buffie the Body! When will she simply get to BE without always being conscious of her body? Granted the illusions of body image is an issue that does not discriminate, when will little girls and in some instances grown women be allowed the simple pleasure to just BE...comfortable and uninhibited without the extreme consciousness of their body make up? 

Blog Name Change...

Where in the beginning my blog was more of a personal documentation of my life journey; I have concluded that it has developed itself into not only an extension of myself to you; however, more so of a positive and engaging place for women of color. Emphasizing the fact that despite what society tries to define us as, WE ultimately define who it that we are.

Thus said, as of next week I will be changing the name of the blog to something that is more inclusive to women of color seeking to drown themselves in positivity and goodness in hopes of becoming the virtuous women that we were created to be.

Many Blessings!

***The picture is by Terry Wilson***

Character contributes to beauty. It fortifies a woman as her youth fades. A mode of conduct, a standard of courage, discipline, fortitude, and integrity can do a great deal to make a woman beautiful.”

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This in Black History

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In 1990, Nelson Mandela was released from prison after remaining behind bars for 27 years. Mandela was an anti-apharteid activist in South Africa and served as a leader of Umkhonto we Sizwe, an armed nationalist wing of the African National Congress. He was arrested in 1962 and sentenced to life in prison on charges of sabotage. After his release from prison, many of those days which he spent on Robben Island, he lead negotiations for a multi-racial democracy in 1994. He was elected president of South Africa and served from 1994 to 1999. Mandela has won over 250 awards, including the Nobel Peace Prize in 1993.

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For Colored Girls

This movie will forever be embedded in my memory. Although not of the generation of Ntozoki Shange's I do own the book, For Colored Girl, but to say the least, this movie was amazing and is definitely DVD purchasing worthy. It not only higlights the struggles the black women but also depict how we overcome those struggles. Hands down it is a riveting movie and I'll definitely be purchasing it tonight.

My So Called "Incompatibility" w/ Black Men

Lately I've been toiling with the idea of not limiting myself when it comes to men. I've, candidly, always seen myself with a black man and for a long time sworn off any men of the Caucasian race. However lately Ive been having the feeling that maybe I am limiting myself in only opening up myself to men who belong to my race. Through various conversations and personal reflections, I've come to the realization that at the end of the day love has no color. In personally coming to terms with this, I confided in my mother earlier this week that I am opening myself to dating outside of my race at which her response was thank the Lord! Hallelujah!, which is a whole other conversation in itself. Content with my decision I texted three of my male black friends and my close girlfriend to tell them the... I guess... good news.

Their reactions were more along the lines of being shockingly surprised. However one response really had me vexed. One of my male friends responded with "Well maybe it isnt black men, Pascale. Maybe it just might be that you are incompatible with black men." Can you say ARRRG! Like who the hell says that???

Maybe you're not compatible with black men???

Just exactly what makes a black woman compatible with a black man, is what I'd like to know. Is there some type of compatibility test that determines whether black men and black women are compatible with one another? Honestly I've never heard such an ignorant comment.

It ridiculous to think that I have to somehow make myself compatible with black men in order to have a fair chance in the dating game. If I have to change who it is that I am in order to date black men, simply put I dont want any part of it. 

Society has really screwed us all up, to even have us think that we need some type of validation from one another. I don't need someone else to dictate to me what it is that I need or am lacking in order to have a fair chance in the world of dating. Its one thing to be critical but that comment was simply over the freaking top!

My Perspective on the Dynamic of a Man and Woman

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My thoughts in 03/2010...

It like the new hip thing to be besides being 16 and pregnant in our community. We're the generation of  Kelis' "Ms. Bossy", Beyonce's "Single Ladies", embarrassingly Lil Bossie's "I-N-D-E-P-E-ND-E-N-T", and not to mention new to the movement Helena Andrews' "Bitch is the New Black"...these are all descriptive of the   the new craze in our black community...the New Black Feminist Movement. I myself am a self professed feminist but not one characteristic of the aforemenetioned  names to the New Black Feminist Movement but one of the likes of Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, and Maya Angelou and the likes. I am part of the old school Feminist Movement despite my unfledged age of 23 soon to be 24. I am of the movement whence a woman knew her worth and value and walked with grace and class never letting a man degrade her, all the while letting the man take the lead when it came to leadership. I am of the feminist movement so eloquently depicted in Alice Walker's "Temple of  My Familiar" when women were equated to gods simply because it is through us that life is brought forth to the world.

Albeit being part of the old school feminist movement I have yet to become so blinded and misguided that my self proclaimed feminism will lead to further destruction of the black family structure..which honestly enough the new feminist movement is doing just that destroying what little of the black family structure is left. For instance at a get together with some friends I honestly and openly said that I would not mind being submissive and subservient to my husband should I one day get married. You can imagine how many sideways glances  I received for my so called "backwards" comment. Does the act of being subservient to a man make a woman any less of a woman or a feminist? Which brings me to the point of societies definition of submissiveness and subversiveness. Societies definition of subservient and submissive rubs too many women, specifically black women the wrong way. To some a submissive partner is descriptive of an individual who acquiesces to their partners "commands" while subservient in today's societal definition means to be "inferior" to your partner. Despite these definitions in true woman knows that the these words are not necessarily descriptive of the her role, if you will, in any relationship with he male counter, specifically black male counterpart.

His Validation Is Not Needed

"Stop expecting these brothas to strengthen the self esteems of black women/girls…they didn’t sign up for that, and they’re not signing up now. Please, black women. Seems like we always seek/expect validation from those who are least likely to give it."

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From Deborah Willis' Posing Beauty: The Portrait Studio in African American Culture

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

Stop feeling inferior to girls that are prettier.

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Call Me Miss. Oblivious

Mix intimidating and oblivious and you get me…

So I’m the type of chick that stays to her self and is dumbfounded when it comes to the opposite sex getting my attention… unless he blatantly states that he is trying to get to know me or someone else point its out…

I’ve never really been the type to harp on every word that a guy states to me unless I of course have a crush on him, which doesn’t happen to often.

I bring this all up after an “encounter” at Bruegger’s Bagels this morning before heading to work. Attempting to wean myself off my daily cheddar spinach meatless omelet on a softwich, I hurried in and grabbed a Naked blue machine. Not wanting to skip the person ahead of me, I wait a little while behind him and noticed that the cashier waved high to me, so I of course wave back to him. He then beckons to me that he is ready to take my payment. I explain to him that I was not trying to skip the person ahead of me as he proceeds to ring me up. So anyway, said cashier then starts up a conversation about his favorite Naked flavors, Strawberry and Mighty Mango and blah blah…as the short conversation continues. Mind you despite this conversation, I’ve been going to Bruegger’s before going into work for like forever, and this particular cashier is definitely not new, cause he has rung me up time and time again, so what’s new? I definitely do not know and hate reading in between lines… but it really messes with me…

Motherhood…Maybe?

A few months away from my 25th birthday I’ve realized that, I would like to have children after so many years of indecisiveness, not quite sure if I would like to be a career woman in life or mother of maybe two children. My indecisiveness somewhat diminished after about 6 months of being mother to my Lela (my pet Chorkie).


It’s amazing how attached one can become to their pets. I’ve always had pets growing up, but Lela is something else, she is completely dependent on me…not my parents, as my pets growing have been.

There is somewhat of a sense of “I-don’t- have-words-to-describe-it” emotion that overwhelms me when I come home from an 8hrs plus day to her panting and wagging tail upon my entrance to my room. Or the sense of comfort that is felt when she eventually cuddles up next to me when I say night-night at bed-time despite her unwillingness to go to sleep in spite of my sleep deprived eyes; yet full of energy and wanting to play well into the night.

And as pathetic as it might sound I am truly grateful for MyLela (her full name). I almost (mothers correct if I am wrong) feel a hint of motherhood watching my puppy grow from an itty bitty ol’ little thing, less than 1lb to this 3.14lb not too itty bitty quadruped with a big personality and a lot of heart despite her small size. It honestly makes me wonder, why dogs do not go to heaven, as I’ve been told from friends. When I think of our relationship, I think of All American Rejects My Dirty Little Secret, I am afraid that no one will love me as much as my dog…but then again there is a God, so true love does await.

But until true love finds me and I’ve made a committed decision to motherhood, its just me and Lela

Self Worth

"Its time to play a new game. Value comes from daily self improvement and self actualization. If someone happens to like the you that you are, cool. If not thats cool too. You can only be you. What someone else thinks of you, is not your business anyway."

-Zettler Clay

My Lela Bug!

The LIGHT of God surrounds me

The LOVE of God enfolds me

The POWER of God protects me