Balance

This afternoon I had a brief conversation with a friend about what's been going on with her since we last spoke. (This is the same friend I talked about in this post) She mentioned she was spending a lot of time working and getting ready to apply to grad school. One of her major complaints after moving to NYC was that she felt like people just weren't nice. She's given me many examples of situations where she stepped up to be nice, but was knocked back down.

In this conversation, she mentioned that she felt herself being hardened by the city and wondered if I had any thoughts on maintaining a balance between being kind and protecting yourself from being taken advantaged of.

I told her that I try to remember what my mother tells me all the time: "you show people how to treat you..."

When she says it, she means that everytime I let someone get over on me, I'm telling them that's ok. She also means that I should stand up for myself and show that I know what's going on and I'm not going to be played for a fool.

However, I typically take that quote and flip it a little. I'm an actions person, above all else. I don't care what you tell me, I will always believe your actions if there's a discrepancy. I once told J, "you say you love me, but there's no way you could treat me the way you do and love me. You may want to love me, you may think you love me, but your actions say otherwise..." So, when I engage with a person, I engage with them in a way that I'd want to be engaged with. That is, I follow the golden rule and treat them as I'd like to be treated.

When I say I'm going to call, I do.

When I say I'm going to be somewhere, I am.

When we talk to each other, I pay attention to what they say, I respond to their questions, I show interest.

I do these things (and more) because these are things I think a)you do for people you care about and b)because I expect the same in return.

When it becomes obvious that the other person has his own agenda, I take that under advisement and all that effort goes out of the window. Often that will open up an opportunity for dialogue "Hey, man, you usually call when you say you will, but lately that hasn't been happening.." is a great opportunity to counter with "yeah, because you don't give me the same courtesy -- so I guess it doesn't matter much..." If it doesn't, though, that's ok because I didn't cease the activity to illicit a response, I stopped because I've shown you how I expect to be treated and I'm assuming so have you -- one good turn deserves another.

Sometimes the relationship deteriorates from there. Once I quit pulling all the weight to watch it sink or swim, sometimes it sinks. In those cases it sucks but there are a lot of other people in my life who are pulling their weight and they deserve my attention more.

I'll admit, there's a certain passive aggressive air to this. I'm not one to feel a whole lot of talking needs to be done when the actions are telling me everything I need to know. The friend I discussed here recently told me she misses hearing my voice. I told her she can call anytime. That was 4 days ago and she still hasn't heard my voice -- her choice and her actions tell me that she doesn't actually miss hearing my voice.

This morning on twitter I said, "The next person to tell me they miss talking to me is gonna get it... right in the kisser!" A friend asked me what was behind all the hostility. As I told her, it's about actions. If you miss talking to me, CALL ME! I'm one of the easiest people in the world to find, if you want to. Between facebook, e-mail, gchat, twitter and the old-fashioned phone, there's no excuse not to simply drop a line to say "hi." You don't have to tell me you miss talking to me -- you can just talk to me.

As I told my friend, though, I'm not always really good at this. Sometimes I get caught up in wanting a relationship to work out so I ignore what I see. I want people to like knowing me, to like interacting with me and when they don't, my kneejerk reaction is to "fix it" by assuming it's something I'm doing (or not doing). There's a lot of trial and error in this, but I'm working it out.

Blackness and Education

What happens to a person's racial identity when they attend private school? How many black points do you lose when you jump the lane and decide to attend school with the rich white kids whose parents own things larger than homes and cars? Depending upon who you ask, you might actually lose your soul or at least cease to be black.

Many parents want to get their kids out of failing public schools and into prestigious private schools because they worry their children won't be able to get into good colleges and they in turn worry how that will effect their lives. Meanwhile, it seems the only thing other parents are worried about is how "black" (or not black) their child will seem if they are afforded the same opportunity.

Read the rest at The Outlook

I Miss This

I signed up to recieve a semi-regular e-mail from a website called Plinky with random questions intended to prompt thought process (think formspring -- and do feel free to ask me anything there). This is the first one that ever got my juices flowing.

What do you miss?

The other day I was reading Twentysomething Renaissance Where Renaissance talked about figuring out why she wanted to be in a relationship. She said

The holidays had me running crazy, my debt was piling up, I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing with my life, I was dealing with a death in the family, I was trying to be the rock for everyone I came in contact with and I really really really just wanted someone to be the rock for me. I wanted to be rescued from my to-do list and my jam-packed calendar. I wanted someone to take control and fix everything for me because I clearly didn't have a firm grip on anything. I didn't even have time to find someone, but oh did I want them. I needed some sort of stability.

Suddenly, I realized I was aching for a dude when, really, I needed to get my life together. So I took a break. I disappeared for a bit. Slept a lot. Took myself to brunch, the movies, and bookstores. Worked on random art projects in my room. Tackled my never-ending list a little bit at a time and refused to sweat the things I didn't get around to.

And it clicked with me. I find myself longing for things I used to have, sometimes, because I think it'll help orient my self. It'll help me right my world when things get topsy turvy. I try to distinguish missing/longing for something because I think it'll fix things versus legitimately missing things.

To answer the question, though, I miss high school (though I don't miss being a teenager), I miss college (for reasons similar to why I miss high school) and I miss my life being ever so unpredictable.

Reflections

This is a fictional story with some basis in the truth.

Thinking back on it, there was something about the way he said her name that made me think she wasn't just his friend. I ignored that feeling though. Just like I ignored the pictures of him and her with his arms wrapped around her waist. They looked very cozy.

Thinking back on it, I never should've gotten involved with Kevin, but there was no way I could've resisted him. He had me in the palm of his hands from the moment he told me my smile reminded him of Aaliyah.

"You know," he would always say, "when you smile like that, you look like Aaliyah. Only more beautiful," and then he would kiss me and whisper "I love you" in my ear. Every time. Kevin had a tight game.

Before we started dating, I quizzed Kevin on his previous relationships. I tried not to be intimidating, but I had to know. He was honest and forthcoming, but there was one name he hesitated on. Thinking back on it, his hesitation was a dead give away but at the time, I was so ready to make him mine I didn't even really notice.

"So tell me about Christina. You talk about her sometimes." Truth was, he talked about her a lot. Thinking back on it, I'm not sure he realized that.

"Oh," he started slowly, "there's really nothing to tell. We've been friends for a long time. Since high school. She's like my best friend."

"Like your best friend?"

"Yeah. I mean we're close like friends, but uh, that's it. There's nothing more to that." His eyes darted towards the coffee table I had my feet propped up on. I slowly turned my gaze and noticed a picture that I had seen plenty of times before but never, for some reason, thought to really look at it.

"Is that her?" I asked, reaching for the picture. He grabbed it before I could and thinking back on it, he seemed protective, like the picture was all he had.


The night of our first huge fight was actually a beautiful one. The stars were bright, the sky was clear, the wind was light. Kevin and I didn't notice, though. We were too busy arguing about everything. I left his house and slammed the door behind me. Everything had been going along perfectly for 6 months. Sure, we'd had a few disagreements, but overall we'd be sailing along. Then, suddenly, he became withdrawn. Upset, even. Everything pissed him off and that night I'd had enough.

"You've been mopey for weeks now. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just had a rough week at work."

"No, I've seen rough weeks at work, they're not like this. Even so, that explains this week. What about the past few weeks."

"Oh. So now you know how a rough week at work looks for me? That's great. Why don't you tell me exactly how I feel, huh?"

The night went on like that. Me trying to figure out why he was so upset and him shutting me out. I'd had enough of the screaming, so I left. If he wanted to shut me out, then fine. I was done with the argument and done with the relationship and I told him as much.

Thinking back on it, Kevin didn't even try to stop me on my way out and he didn't call me that night to be sure I made it home, which was completely unlike him. When I tried to call him, the call went straight to voicemail; also unlike him.

For 2 weeks I didn't hear from him. Finally, I gave up on the holdout and tried his phone again. He picked up on the first ring.

"I didn't think you were ever going to call." He said immediately.

"What? This phone thing works two ways, you know." I couldn't believe he'd been sitting by waiting for me to call and didn't think he should so much as send me an e-mail.

"You told me you didn't want to talk to me ever again and you stormed out! What was I supposed to think?"

He was right. I was completely fed up with his childish attitude and I said a few choice phrases. But to be fair, he had said some unfortunate things to me as well. I wasn't sure I wanted to try again. Thinking back on it, he didn't sound like he wanted to try again either.

"You know, Kevin. I care a lot about you. I do. But maybe we should try this again from the beginning. I mean, I was completely surprised at what I saw from you that night. It was like you turned into your evil twin brother."

He didn't respond right away and when he did, it was like he hadn't heard anything I said.

"That night I had had a huge fight with Christina. She said some really mean things to me. I was hurting."

"So you lashed out at me?" I began angrily. I took a deep breath, but he cut me off before I could continue.

"Yes. I was wrong. I shouldn't have. It's just that-" he cut himself off.

"No. It's just that what? You had a huge fight with Christina and you took it out on me why?" That deep breath wasn't working.

"It's just that I found out she cheated on me!" He blurted, suddenly.

Thinking back on it, I was eerily calm. It was like I knew everything before I knew anything about what was going on.

"She cheated on you?" I asked slowly, enunciating every word.

"Yes. Back when we were dating she gave me passwords to her e-mail. I had suspicions all along that she was cheating and I found the proof in her e-mail. I never confronted her, but during our conversation that night, she told me she was dating that guy. She's dating the guy she cheated on me with!" I was shocked at how Kevin didn't seem to understand the real issue. He told me Christina was just a friend -- when did I miss her advancing to girlfriend?

"Kevin. Stop talking. Do you realize what you're saying? You're admitting you lied to me. How long ago did you and Christina date?" I wanted him to tell me it had been years ago so I could tell myself that it was kind of true when he said they were just friends. If they'd dated so long ago that it was but a distant memory I could live with that, I thought.

"Um," Kevin began.

"Now's not a good time to lie," I told him.

"We broke up 4 months ago."

"How is that possible?" I asked, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. "4 months ago, you and I had been dating for 2 months." My voice began to get louder. "Are you telling me you were still dating Christina when we met? When I asked you about her, you lied? And to top it all off, you started a huge fight with me because she cheated on you? Do you know how ridiculous this is?"

There was silence on the other end. Thinking back on it, I don't recall hearing him breathe.

"Now's not a good time for silence."

"I don't know what to say, babe. I was wrong. I lied to you. I just didn't know what to do. I was afraid. I mean, if I had told you I was seeing someone what would you have done?"

He kept talking. I quit listening. He said something about being ready to move on from Christina and not wanting to risk losing me. He said some other stuff about how the 2 weeks without me had been unbearable and I think he might have even sniffled like he was going to cry.

I went numb and when he started repeating my name over and over again, I slowly placed the phone back in the cradle.

Thinking back on it...

Well, there's nothing to think back on. I'm still staring at the phone.

Guest Blog: SWPD

I've written another guest blog post at Stuff White People Do. Check it out!

I don’t know if any of you frequent other blogs run by a white person that attempt to do what swpd attempts to do, but I don’t. I don't because I haven't found many. Any that I have run across are run by a PoC (or, at least, a person pretending to be a PoC). Blogs like these take on a whole different spin when they are run by a white person. However, I’ve also noticed that such places don't tend to stick around very long.

When Macon developed a list of rules for commenters, the comment section, as usual, lit itself on fire. One comment in particular from Randy caught my eye. Randy said here:

how is this blog, this whole thing, not just yet another example of a WP being in charge of a space for and about PoCs? however deferential, reverent, polite, well-intentioned, well-informed macon d may be; it's still a WHITE MAN'S place. because he owns it. he controls it. it's HIS own weblog. and he-not any black person-can pull the plug whenever it suits him.

how can all you razor-sharp fanon's out there have faild to confront and critique this (sic)? sorry folks, but it appears that we whites just can't damn help ourselves from taking over, from dominating, from setting the terms, from RUNNING THE SHOW-however benignly.

you all are constantly in a blither about ambient white supremacy...yet you don't see it RIGHT HERE.

I actually had been doing a lot of thinking about swpd and how the commenters interact on this blog. I appreciate the work macon puts into it, and Randy’s comment made me ponder other well-meaning, well-intended “spaces” (we’ll use “spaces” to refer to any place, online or real-world, where race relations is the primary topic) that don’t ever quite pan out. The most prevalent sort of spaces are blogs/websites that discuss interracial dating. Many such blog authors quickly find they spend more time defending their opinions than discussing anything of relevancy and ultimately shut down their blogs.

There seems to me to be a presumption white people make that they can singlehandedly change people’s minds, while never really being ready for pushback, and never being ready or prepared to create a space that offers PoCs and white people the opportunity to honestly and openly express their opinions.

It’s a shame this is the case, because as much as I wish that I, a black woman in America, could create a successful space, it would take a lot of work and a lot of passivity (that I’m not prepared to give) on my part.

Why, you ask? Because white people are scared to talk about race with PoCs. Some of that fear is understandable, while a lot of it is absurd. We can’t talk about or come up with ways to combat the problem without white people being honest and open, but above all else present, in the conversation. Unfortunately, the history in our country has led to a situation where more often than not, race conversations begun by PoCs in a PoC space do not attract white people who don’t already at least “get” the problem and will simply echo what we say (and never follow the echos with action).

One thing that was established early on at swpd is that white people are a necessary part of this conversation. In fact, commenter Jara said here:

The responsibility for improving race relations in the U.S., for example, falls on white people's shoulders because they are the privileged group.

It’s become my opinion that we need more spaces created by white people where we can have these open and honest race conversations so that one day we make enough progress where who creates and controls the space doesn’t matter. Some of us may consider this a necessary evil, while others of us take it at face value and go. Either way, there aren’t a lot of white people who are ready to take the flack (some deserved, some not) they receive for attempting such a thing. Wonder what type of flack I’m talking about? Most swpd comment sections will show you.

Anyone who is a part of a real race conversation, especially with people from different perspectives, and actively searches for ways to lessen racism's effects and to ultimately eradicate it altogether, is helping to blaze new trails. To do so via the internet with relative strangers is an area that has yet to be fully examined, and so it takes a lot of trial and error.

It’s easy to want to be a part of the solution, to feel like you do things that others might benefit from knowing about; it’s harder than it looks, however, to share those things about such a contentious topic. Too often well-meaning white people set out to help, but end up with their feelings hurt and their tails between their legs. I hope that as we all have a hand in writing the how-to book on handling race relations, more people step up and are willing to create more spaces for these conversations to happen.

There seems to be an assumption that if white folks would simply do as they’re told, everything would be fine. I see such sentiments expressed on this blog regularly; however, the fact is this is a learning experience for all of us. White people need to be ready to use the privilege they’ve enjoyed for hundreds of years to fix the problems it has created. I firmly believe that it is the job of the PoC community to point out the cracks, and that it's the white community’s job to fill them in, even if that means losing things they’ve become accustomed to (I use a crude analogy, but I think simple and crude is better than complicated and palatable).

Randy made some valid points (that he later expounded upon). One of them is the irony that swpd may in fact be everything we all say we don't want. A space like swpd isn’t perfect, but it is a good example of what I mean when I say the white people fix the cracks PoCs point out. In almost every post, there’s one commenter who trips the wire and the alarms start blaring, and someone lets them know that they are exemplifying exactly what shouldn’t be done. More white people need to be willing to “be that kid” (as I like to say). More white people need to be willing to take the criticism to not only learn from themselves, but also to teach others.

There are things PoCs should do, but this blog isn’t called “stuff people of color do.”

Decision Time

Damon at This May Concern You put his readers on to this youtube video of Smokey Robinson performing at Def Comedy Jam. At one point, Smokey says,

How come I didn’t get a chance to vote on who I’d like to be? Who gave you the right to make that decision for me? I ain’t under your rule or in your dominion, and I’m entitled to my own opinion.

He's talking about being called black vs. being called African-American and he wonders why no one asked him what he wanted to be called. Makes sense.

Last night, I had a conversation with a friend about her current boyfriend. He's almost 15 years older than her, has 3 kids and has been married before. I'm on this new "if you like it, I love it" kick with my friends and I've been trying to just be a supportive ear. Initially, I ignored all the red flags, because age ain't nothin but a number (no Aaliyah), aren't we constantly being told that it's getting harder and harder to find a man with no kids, and at least he's got a track record that suggests he "does" marriage, right? Ya'll know I can't co-sign foolishness, though, right?

From all appearances, he's a good guy. He seems to really care about her, is always talking about building a future complete with kids and marriage (that's the order he talks about them in. I'm uneasy with it -- but this ain't my relationship). However, up until a couple of weeks ago, she thought he had 2 kids. He asked her to look over some insurance papers to help him understand them. That's when she noticed that there was a name listed with his other 2 kids names that she recognized. He had previously told her that "Zachary" was his cousin's child. Why then, she wondered, would he be on his insurance papers? Things get a bit more murky when she realizes Zachary is the same age as his oldest child, Maria.

She asked him about it and he admitted that Zachary was not his cousin's child, but his own child. He seemed a bit ashamed that he hadn't spent as much time with Zachary as with his other kids. He also took the opportunity to hint that he'd been married before.

Now, here she is, 6 months in a relationship with a man who's spent the last 3 talking about their future together in a new city, with kids and a house and all the things people say they want but never thought to mention he actually had 3 kids and an ex-wife. Out of order much?

Of course, he said "Well, had I told you, you would have left me."

I had an immediate flashback.

I was the other woman once. I didn't know I was and when I found out, I was no longer "officially" the other woman, but that didn't stop me from being very upset. When J and I talked about it, he said,

"Well, had I told you, we wouldn't be friends now, would we?"

"No," I agreed, "but that was my decision to make."

I cautioned my friend on letting her beau make all the decisions by manipulating the truth. I can tell, and I know based on her track record, despite her best "I can't stay in this situation" speech, she's not going anywhere. He'll have to dump her or make staying almost impossible before she'll leave. I do hope, though, she at least makes him understand that he's got to be completely honest moving forward.

"How can ya'll build a life together if he can't be honest about who he is and the parts of his past that will effect your future?" I asked her. She didn't really give an answer.

Happy Birthday

One of my friends forgot my birthday.

It's not so much that she forgot, again, as that she never remembers. My birthday is December 30th; it's 5 days after Christmas and 1 day before New Year's Eve. You might think that makes it easy to remember, but I've found out it actually get's jumbled in people's minds as "sometime after Christmas but before the new year..." and over the years, I've adjusted my attitude considerably. If you think of me anytime after Christmas and before the new year, it's enough for me.

This friend seems to forget most people's birthdays. She even forgot her mother's once or twice. Knowing this, I decided to call her on my birthday to remind her. What's interesting is that there were a couple of people I spoke to on my birthday who, I later realized, had forgotten my birthday but I didn't feel the need to call and remind them, and, in fact, they all eventually remembered. However with her, I did. In fact, I was anticipating her forgetfulness and had long planned to phone her to remind her.

She didn't answer. She never called back and I spoke to her for the first time late last week, since well before Christmas. The night before, I had dinner with a friend where we talked about the situation.

"I know I say this every year. I know I say I'm going to drop the dead weight in my life, but I'm for real this time."

My friend nodded her head as she chewed on her rib

"And Carla is the one person I always say is the first to go."

She nodded her head again, still chewing

"But I'm serious this time. It's not just the birthday thing. The birthday thing is really more of a tangible incident that represents what's been going on with us for years. She doesn't care enough about me to remember anything important. Not to mention, we don't have anything in common anymore. We used to have school, but that's long gone, now."

I think Carla has a microphone in my life because this isn't the first time I've thought to myself That's it, I'm done trying to be friends... and she pops up out of nowhere.

I reminded her, mid-way through our conversation, about my birthday. She went straight into the "Oh what a horrible friend I am" and the "Please don't hate me" lines. I chuckled to myself when she asked me if I was upset with her. "Oh if only you knew how indifferent I am right now..." I wanted to say. She didn't really get me going until she made a remark about what close friends we are.

That drives me crazy. Absolutely crazy.

J started doing that this time last year. On the rare occasion we spoke on the phone, he would find a way to incorporate "You're my best friend" into the conversation. I knew he wanted me to agree and validate it, but it wasn't true. As I told another friend, of the people I do consider to be my close friends, none of them have ever made such a comment outside of a necessary context, i.e. a phrase like "You're one of my closest friends, so you know I like..." But this girl? She finds an excuse to drop a phrase like that on me, pretty consistently. I don't feel like it's my job to clear the record, because I'm clear on it and I bet she is too.

Today, I tried to break it down in a conversation with another friend.

"It's not that I need her to remember my birthday. It's that remembering anything important about anyone but herself seems so beyond her."

"Maybe," my friend began, "she's just having a selfish period."

"That's the thing. She's always in a selfish period. I've asked her to visit me, she promises she's coming but aside from a brief look at her travel options, I've not heard a peep about a visit; nevermind I've been to see her twice already. She calls when it's convenient, she remembers what's convenient. It's all about convenience for her. What's worse is that because I'm so easygoing, and don't make a lot of demands, she gets over very easily, but I'm tired of it."

The question, however, became what do I do now? I'm not petty enough to stop talking to her, I don't see a point in that, not to mention we don't speak frequently enough as it is for her to notice.

I could ignore her when she calls me, but what for?

All I can come up with is ceasing my expectations, no longer expecting her to care what's going on in my space (though, when she feels like too much time has passed since she last asked, she will -- it's eerily personality disorder-ish of her, honestly), no longer attempting to care what's going on in her space, all the while trying not to focus on doing any of those things.

My mom's always telling me, "you show people how to treat you." I've always been a little resistant to that phrase. Why do I need to show another human being how to treat me. What ever happened to the golden rule? How hard can this be? I might not be into showing people how to treat me, but I am into stopping you from treating me wrong.

I've got to get it together in 2010 and do so now.

formspring.me

Do you believe in the phrase "Love conquers all?"

Not really. I believe the phrase "Love is not enough" is far more accurate. Love is important, but it's really mutually exclusive when you start talking about it in terms of a relationship working. I've seen relationships last though the love is gone (think 2 people who stay together for the kids) while other relationships fall apart even though both people love each other very much.

Ask me anything

Helping Myself Be Honest

I'm in the middle of catching up on one of my favorite blogs Keep It Trill. Over the holiday season, Kit was very honest about what was happening with her family.

In one post, she said,

I have to think about this value system more, where helpers hate needing help and become so embarrassed when they do. On one hand it makes you utterly self-sufficient and independent, but on the other hand, it slows down the problem-solving and healing process because you've walled off some of best resources with secrecy.

It was not easy for me to accept that I needed to see someone about whatever was going on in my space. It wasn't easy hearing my mom tell me I needed to and it wasn't especially easy admitting it to my friends or here on my blog. It wasn't easy because I've spent a long time perfecting an exterior that looks put together. As I write this, I'm not even sure why I did that. I don't know what happened that made me think it was easier to "fake it till you make it" than to just ask for the help you need.

Perhaps it was the time I sat crying in the middle of my student center in high school and my two closest friends, at the time, came out, watched me cry and went back inside, never once asking what was wrong. It's been 7 years and we've never spoken about that day.

Maybe it was growing up in a single-parent home and learning early on that self-sufficiency was best. I don't ever blame my mother (though she thinks I do, and I've tried to assure her that I don't, but I can't fix her own guilt) for anything that's resulted because she was a single parent. However, I am cognizant of the effects it's had on me.

Whatever the reason for my need to not only have it together (or look that way as much as possible) but to also be that leaning post for others, it takes a toll. There comes a point where what you've been showing doesn't matter because what you need has been neglected and is most important.

Another blog I frequent, Stuff White People Do, recently had a post about how black women are treated as if we are made of teflon and adamantium; nothing sticks to us, nothing hurts us. The comment section blew up; it took me quite a while to get through it all and before I could even make it to the bottom, I had a conversation with the blog's author, Macon. We talked about a lot of things and I told him,

I don't ask for help, but sometimes I just want someone to offer it... even though I assert myself as not ever needing help as a response to never being asked. It's a wretched connundrum

but a connundrum I need to get over.

My BFF always says, there's a point in your life where "my mama didn't hug me" and "my daddy wasn't there" ceases to be a quality excuse. Well, "no one helps me" ceased to be an excuse for why I don't ask for it. I imagine it will always be something I struggle with, but dangit, I gotta get over myself. The end.

Have a Parent, Be a Parent

Almost 4 months I did a post on people who choose to be single parents. CurvyGirl♥ posed an interesting point and asked for my take on it. Better late than never, right? Here's what she said:

You have a point. I think society has become way to comfy with 'marriage optional' lifestyles at the cost of cheating children. I give props to all the single moms and dads who are able to raise well-rounded kids. Now that I think about it, all of my family members with kids are married, so I wonder how much that influences other generations. I'd love to hear your perspective.

A friend of mine and I had a conversation about this once. It was more in terms of race, but since the reality is more white kids grow up in 2 parent homes than black kids, it still applies here.

I told her that J talked marriage early. His mother still calls me her daughter-in-law and when his dad caught us in bed together once (so not my fault, I told him to go to the couch) he didn't freak like my mom would have (sure, some of it's because J was a guy, but still...).

I have a lot of friends my age (early to mid-20s) who are married. 80% of them grew up in a two parent household.

On the flip side, I can attest to the fact that while I definitely prioritize marriage over having kids (that is, I will be married before I have kids) being in a relationship/working towards marriage is just not a priority for me. I attribute that to growing up with a single-mother who prioritized raising me over being in a relationship (she had one boyfriend while I was growing up, while I was young and I was much older before I realized "who" he was).

The point I'm making is that we emulate what is modeled for us. I struggle with my role in a relationship because I didn't have the "woman's role" modeled for me because I never saw my mom in a relationship. Meanwhile, J talked about marriage early because he grew up in a 2-parent home and that's what he believed should be prioritized (getting married and having a family). I even see this in a guy I look at as a younger brother. His parents have been married a long time (10 years before he was born and he's the oldest of 3 and in college) and he's been on the lookout for his future wife since he was 15. On the flip side, I know other young men who don't see the least bit intriguing about marriage.

None of this is to say that children of single parents are doomed. I'm the child of a single parent yet I want to be married first; my mother grew up with married parents and she ended up a single parent (the same can be said of a handful of my cousins). Who you grow up with is not the end all be all, but it is a good indicator of where you're headed if you don't make active choices to change it.

I've tried to observe married couples I respect, I've paid attention to my shortcomings when in relationships (and boy does that list just get longer and longer) but most of all I've noted that while my mother did an excellent job, there was nothing about her single-parentness that appealed to me. If nothing else, I knew from jump that it was not anything I wanted a hand in. In fact, it's that feeling that makes me upset with people who choose to be single-parents. It's not a good look for your kids; it's just not.

In the end, though, we play the hand we're dealt -- some of us, though, try to stack the deck before the cards are passed out.

Long Distance Relationships

As I was writing the post on being able to cook during my 25 Things To Never Apologize For series, I mentioned I don't do long-distance relationships (LDRs). I went looking for the post where I explained this mindset more completely and I couldn't find it. That's because I never wrote it. Well here it is...

My relationship with J lasted 4 years and was off and on, with way more gray area than anything decisive. For the vast majority (so save about 2 - 3 months) of this 4 years we were not in the same city. The distance between us ranged from 120 miles to over 1100 miles. We made it work as best we could, but we were young and had no idea what we were doing. I learned a lot about what I can and can't tolerate where distance is concerned in a relationship. I've developed a list that I use whenever someone asks me about how to do an LDR.

1) I can do any distance, but not for any amount of time: There was no end in sight for J and I. When we talked about our lives post-graduation (for me, he was 2 years behind me) I had very sure plans about what city I wanted to live in. It wasn't the city he wanted to live in. He loved the city he was going to school in and while the city I wanted to move to was closer -- closer wasn't together. I realized, ultimately, that LDRs need an end-date. This was echoed in a recent article I read about a newlywed couple who met when the husband came back for an alumni event and the wife was a student. He lived in DC and when she graduated (and when they became official) she moved to NYC. Their recommendation: have an end date.

2) The end date should be reasonable: At one point, J started talking marriage (which scared the CRAP out of me). I told him, "We can't get married. We don't want to live in the same area." Then we talked about where I wanted to live and how fluid I felt the first few years post-graduate would be. He tossed out the idea of transferring to a school in the city I was in. I think we both knew that we couldn't keep up with the distance until he graduated. We needed it to be over soon. LDRs can be strength-builders, but if done for too long the distance begins to crack at the base of your relationship and that damage, if ignored, can be irreparable. My personal end date is 1 year, though I'd prefer 6 - 8 months.

3)I won't enter a LDR with someone at the very early stages of our relationship: J and I began our relationship before I had to move; I think our relationship was able to take so much heat and be beat up so badly before it broke because we had a foundation born out of spending a lot of time together in the beginning. Recently, I briefly dated another guy who had future plans that will take him out of the country for at least 3 years. If we had begun seeing each other exclusively, I would've known him for less than a year, most of which we weren't dating/spending time together. I would have been entering an LDR that exceeds my personal limit of one year based off having gotten to know him for about 6-7 months. That ratio just doesn't add up for me.

4)I will prioritize spending time with a significant other in an LDR over most other things and expect him to do the same: In the early stages of our LDR, J and I would often meet up in my home city, which was where we met. He ended up back in his hometown after I left but had friends in my hometown. It was convenient for me and offered him a chance to visit his old friends. The problem was he had a hard time prioritizing. He would often let his friends overtake his schedule and I wouldn't see him at all. He didn't understand why it would upset me. I did a lot of things, sometimes, to get home so I could see him in the time frame he would be there. On the flip side of that I had a bad habit of spending a lot of time on the phone when we were together. He'd often steal my phone. What I get now is that those were the times where we could "repair" issues that had come up during our time apart and anytime I spent doing something else was taking away from us. The only thing spending time with J did not take precedence over was time with family -- but I always managed to do some creative scheduling.

5)I will understand the importance of the telephone: This was perhaps the worst and most awkward part of the LDR. Phone time was all we had so when one of us missed it, it typically caused problems. What our young brains didn't understand was that we both prioritized the phone time, but only when it was convenient. We both probably spent time on the phone when we would have rather been elsewhere, but then when the other couldn't make it and we'd skipped a meal with friends, or ignored an invite out to a party, we were pissed.

This isn't one that would apply to me now, but back then, I wish I'd had someone to caution me about getting into a LDR as I was headed into college. I managed to make some great friends but there are many things I missed out on because of #5. We both told each other we wanted the other one to go out and meet new people, but that was just lip service and our actions showed it. We really should have been a part for my first year in college.

Overall, I would suggest that a person think long and hard before jumping into a LDR. There are serious consequences and they should all be weighed very very carefully.

Find Out Who Your Friends Are

And we're BACK (with a new layout)!! I hope everyone's holiday was beautiful and filled with a lot of good food.

Some of ya'll might throw up in your mouths, but I can't help it if this country song sets my post off right.



I spent my holiday season (birthday included) at home, with family and close friends. These friends are people I've known for almost (if not more than) a decade. I grew up with them, went to hell and back with a lot of them and it's always funny to sit around and look at where we are now, thinking about where we were then.

I've met a lot of people since I graduated high school and moved to another city for college. Some of these people I keep in close contact with and consider to be friends. I realized, this weekend though, that with the exception of one person, not since my freshman year in college when I met my BFF have I made good through and through friends like the lot I spent my time with over the holidays.

This was illuminated for me when I needed a favor upon my arrival back to DC. Nothing really major, but being the type of person I am, I hate asking for favors that might imposition someone (fatal flaw, I know). The long and short of the story is that one person left me hanging and I ended up calling a good friend (from high school) who was happy to do it, last-minute be damned. To thank her for helping me, I took her to dinner where we talked about the situation. It was ironic, I told her, because a friend at home and I had a similar conversation about not having friends as good or close as the "ones since high school..."

On the one hand, I like having people in my life who have seen me through almost everything major that has happened. On the other, though, I wonder at what point does a person lose their ability to "make friends." Or is that we lose the ability to be a good friend to anyone we've known less than half our lives? As much as I love these 10+-year friends, it'd be nice to have people who are here with me now and see me everyday and know what's going on with me now who are as reliable and close as the old ones.

Ultimately, though, I'd rather have old friends who are far away but still watch out for me than new friends who are close but can't be trusted.

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Things We Don't Apologize For: Being Ourselves

Yesterday: Never apologize for making more money than your man, you work hard and you deserve to get paid.
Today: Never apologize for being you!

In the 3rd installment of this series, I jumped the gun a bit. To summarize the post, I said

I think that's the point of it all. All of these things you shouldn't apologize for because that's you not focusing on you. Instead, by apologizing, you're making things that affect you about the people around you when they are not

It's already hard in this world to be who you are. People want so much from us, they want us to change, to be different. They want us to suck that in, lift that up, and alter that thing over there. It's so hard finding people that only want you, and nothing less. I told a friend, the guy for me wants me -- 100% me and he won't settle for (or be attracted to) anything less.

Left Eye once said,

Be me and do what I believe and to be myself, and, I suggest everyone do the same thing; do what makes you feel comfortable, do what makes you feel happy...

It's been a quote I've tried to live by in one way or another and that's what I think these 25 things we don't apologize for really goes back to. I said it before, and I'll say it now, never apologize for who you are. There are some of these things that even I need to work on, but ultimately as long as I don't apologize for who I am, at my core, I'm doing alright. I'm doing better than a lot of us.

The black blogosphere has been abuzz with talks of Helena Andrews and her yet-to-be-finished book "Black Is the New Bitch." Everyone has an opinion. Some women see themselves in her story, others are already critical of who she is and her opinion and even others are just tired of discussing the plight of the single, educated and bougie black woman. There is one thing she's quoted as saying in the Washington Post article that discussed her and her book that I took to immediately, if only for it's frankness. "I'm a mean woman. I don't date nice people. That's why I'll be alone for the rest of my life. I will always have to settle." She could probably stand to work on being mean, but she recognizes that and guess what? She accepts what it is. I know there are things about me (like my sarcasm) that turn people off, but I've learned that I'm ok with that. If you don't like my sarcasm, that's fine, we're not good fits for each other's life.

Be happy with who you are and if you're not happy, make changes for self, not for anyone else. Don't apologize for who you are, it's a sure waste of time. Find the people who don't want you to apologize; those are the people you need. The rest will come and go and your life will be just fine.

Ok. Well, this is the end of this series. Hope everyone who read it found at least a few gems to take with them. If you missed any, go here to read them all.

I'm out of here until the new year, barring some amazing need to share deep thoughts (but more than likely, I'll write drafts and post them in 2010). But there's always Twitter!

Things We Don't Apologize For: Our Paycheck

Side note: I wrote this post yesterday and never published it. I'll have the final installment of our series up this afternoon

Yesterday: Never apologize for making a decision from your heart, even if others don't agree. You have to live with the consequences not them.
Today: Never apologize for making more money than your man, you work hard and you deserve to get paid.

I'm a public servant with a paycheck that reflects as much. I don't have any experience with making so much money that it causes a problem within a relationship; however, there are a few basic ideas we can take away from this tenament.

In our society, we reward work with money. Ideally, how much you make reflects how hard you work (though we can all think up people who don't make enough and others who make too much). Apologizing for your salary suggests you think you don't deserve it because you don't work hard for it. I highly doubt that's the case for any of us.

Money in a relationship is a sticky situation though. Generally, men like to feel they are providing for the people they care for. Men who work like the
idea that the work they do puts food on their families table. When someone they're supposed to be caring for brings home most of the money, it's as if they're contributions are neglected.

I'm reminded of an obscure episode of Family Matters, Carl has trouble accepting that his wife Harriett makes more money than he and so he finds a part time job so that he can bring home the larger paycheck. (FFWD to 4:28)



It seems ridiculous but for as progressive as our society feels it is, we still expect men to be breadwinners and when they aren't, people sometimes draw negative conclusions.

We should all look to be with someone who can celebrate with us in our successes just as well as they support us in our failures. If your man (or woman) can't be happy for you because you have a good job that pays well and would rather focus on the fact that you make more than them, then you should find someone else.

We also shouldn't lord our earnings over anyone. "I make the money, so you'll do as I say..." The other person deserves respect and shouldn't be expected to bend to any whim just because you bring home "the bacon."

Make your money, honey and don't say you're sorry.

Finally.... (We'll let what the last thing is be a surprise)

Things We Don't Apologize For: Our Decisions

Yesterday: ever apologize for changing your mind, it is your perogative.
Today: Never apologize for making a decision from your heart, even if others don't agree. You have to live with the consequences not them.

Most will recall the story I told about my mother in the first post of these series.

When I was 14 and in the 9th grade, my mother quit her job at a fairly stable snack cake company to go back to school. Everyone thought she was crazy. How would she afford my schooling? How would she afford her mortgage? Bills? What in the world, they wondered, was she thinking?

There's nothing easy about what my mom did. Plenty of people still think she made a mistake, but she knows she didn't. She knows it was time for her to quit worrying about what other people thought and start doing what she wanted to do.

I don't know what percentage of my mom's friends supported her, or how many of them told her she was wrong. What I know, though, is that even if it was just one friend, she made a decision that was for her and her child's benefit; no one else's and she never apologized for it (even when, 5 years later, we had an emotional discussion about the toll her decision took on me).

When I was going through the worst parts of being with J, I remember finding little solace in my friends' advice. They were right -- all of them. I should've packed my proverbial bags and hit the door. But I didn't. I made a decision to stay. What I could never figure out was why they thought it would be so easy for me to go. Why did they not realize, I wondered, how much of myself I thought I would lose if I walked away. It angered me beyond belief that none of them seemed to see how hard what they were asking me to do was.

I took a lot from that experience and I've since tried to modify the way I give advice. Above all else, in a sticky situation, I want friends to know that I get how hard what I'm suggesting is. I get that it's easy for me to sit far removed from the situation with no skin in the game and tell them what the "right" decision is -- but that ultimately they are the ones who will have to pay the pied piper.

This past Labor Day weekend I visited some friends. I didn't want to go. I knew I wouldn't have a good time if I went and so initially when they asked me to come, I said "no." But I let them change my mind and guess what? I was miserable. It wasn't really their fault, but I should've spent that time with myself. I was dealing with a lot and I shouldn't have tried to ignore it by taking a trip I didn't want to take to appease my friends. When another friend asked me why I was so hesitant to go, I told them, "I might have a great time. I might enjoy every waking moment. But if I don't, the only person who will suffer is me and the only person to blame will be me." Sure enough, I was miserable for 3 days and furious with myself (which only exacerbated how miserable I was).

A mentor of mine has a saying, "I hope it was worth it..." It started off tongue-in-cheek, but it's become a saying of my own. When I'm looking to make a big decision, I weigh the consequences. What's the worst case scenario of either side and can I deal with those consequences. If I can I do it, if I can't, I don't. When I look back, I want to be able to ask myself "Was it worth it?" and answer "Absolutely". I don't always apply this like I should, but it's a rule of thumb.

We will all eventually make decisions that effect others. My mom's decisions effected me, the decision I made with my relationship effected J and the trip decision had ripples in the lives of my friends. However, within reason, we shouldn't apologize for our decisions and especially not when we're the main one who has to deal with the consequences.

We have 2 days remaining in our series

Tomorrow: Never apologize for making more money than your man, you work hard and you deserve to get paid.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Changing Our Minds

Yesterday: Never apologize for your taste in clothes. It's your style.

Today: Never apologize for changing your mind, it is your perogative.

For the last few weeks, I've been struggling to get it together to write these. Not at all because I don't want to do them, but I have a LOT going on in my space. I'm going home this weekend, one of my close friends is moving at the end of the year so this is our last week together, I'm stressed on the job, and as usual my mind is working overtime on issues I can't control/predict. With all that, my ability to sit and write a coherent post has waned. I crank 'em out, but I worry that they're not good enough.

Many of you may have come and read one post only to come back note major changes. For example, on yesterday's post, I published it and later decided I wanted to add a picture of Rihanna. I also intially added a picture of Cassie, but decided that was too much #tomfoolery for this space, so I simply linked it. I've even edited/changed posts weeks and months after their initial posting.

Why? Cause I changed my mind about the phrasing of a sentence, or the point of a paragraph. Or in the case of adding pictures, thought a little visual media might help my otherwise bland posts.

Changing your mind should not be confused with being indecisive (though I joked earlier with a friend that they were one and the same). Indecisive people can't make up their minds to begin with. We change our minds because we gain additional information that changes our opinion.

This got to be a big deal during the 2008 Presidency campaign. When is it ok, as a politician who makes laws, to change your mind? One of the candidates (who, exactly, escapes me now) suggested that as new information comes in, it is appropriate to change your mind if that information casts light on an issue you hadn't been able to previously consider. In other words: sometimes, you have not enough time and not enough information to make a good decision, so you make the best one you can and then you change your mind as more time elapses and more information comes in.

Look at the people that come in and out of our life. We don't often friend people who we hate. We like people we're friends with and then new information comes in: they show their true colors, they make a horrible decision that effects us irreperably, they cease to to be the person we became friends with, so we change our minds.

You shouldn't ever apologize for changing your mind because you got new information. If we didn't allow people to change their minds, we'd never see a change in our government, people wouldn't reduce their carbon footprint, enemies would never become friends, no one would learn. The ability to use new information to change your mind is a good one to have, so don't apologize for it.

3 Days remain in our series

Tomorrow: Never apologize for making a decision from your heart, even if others don't agree. You have to live with the consequences not them.

Guest Post - Stuff White People Do

I did a guest post on the blog Stuff White People Do

I'm briefly interrupting our regularly scheduled "Things We Don't Apologize For" to share this post with you and encourage you to go over and leave a comment.

On some blogs, my favorite part is the comments. I like to see how many people had thoughts similar to mine after reading a blog post. I think people are honest on the internet in ways they would never be in a face-to-face conversation. In fact, people probably say things on blogs, in comments, on Twitter and even on Facebook (which is ironic) that you couldn't pay them to say to a close friend. They leave these thoughts and ideas out there for people to read -- people they will never, ever meet -- and they can be painfully honest. One thing I’ve noticed is that when apparently white people leave vile, racist comments, other white people who don’t feel that way almost never jump in to counter the vile racism.

One blog I love reading the comments for is Unsuck DC Metro (UDCM), a website dedicated to Washington, DC's transit system. Compared to, say, NYC's transit system, ours sucks. Majorly. So it's kind of comforting to know there are other people who ride DC Metro and have some of the same complaints I do.

I stumbled upon an old UDCM post that invited comments on the "Most Annoying Metro Behaviors." I was sorta excited to read through all 200 comments, because I know most metro veterans have some of the same annoyances: people who talk too loudly on their cell phones; folks who don't know that we walk left, stand right; tourists who are incapable of moving out of the way before they decide to shove their nose in a map, etc. I wasn't surprised by anything I read. It was what I didn't read that I took note of.

It doesn't matter what city you live in, whether you use public transportation or not, you can identify with this: annoying teenagers. We all know them, we cringe when we see (or hear) them coming. They're loud, obnoxious, aloof and bothersome. Typically, I remind myself that I was 15 once, and I and my friends probably liked being obnoxious, too. All teenagers think that they're cool because they're loud (or so it seems).

Here in DC, many metro riders will tell you that right before school and right after school, you can't help but be annoyed by the already overcrowded train cars filling up with teenage students who are rambunctious, loud and obnoxious. They play their music way too loud, use inappropriate language and act rude. Other riders agree that these behaviors are obnoxious, so it was no surprise that a lot of the commenters on UDCM's post did too. However, what the comments also revealed was that almost everyone seems to think it's only black teenagers who do this. What was even more striking is how they were referenced. There isn't any reference to "black kids." Instead, they’re all derogatory terms -- the rude, ignorant and racist kind.

One commenter referred to them as "Ghetto-ass bebe's kids," others called them the "Ghetto Fabulous Street Urchins," "section-8 welfare street urchins," and even "sewer ghetto rats." My favorite was probably from commenter Grrrrrr, who referred to them as "ghetto sewer rats with no upbringing or future." I won't lie, I laughed at the sheer ignorance of that comment. It wasn't enough to call them "ghetto sewer rats"; they also have no upbringing or future. I didn't know this, but apparently you can figure out everything about a person after less than 5 minutes of sharing the same space.

But like I said, it wasn't the comments that got me; rather it was that no one had anything to the contrary to say. No one came to the rescue of this maligned group to say, "hey, is there a reason you only refer to them with these racist terms? Is there a reason you don't reference white teenagers? They can be just as obnoxious."

The closest attempt to rescue this group was a comment from one person who pointed out that these obnoxious teens could have come from anywhere in DC, not just S.E. (Southeast is a predominantly black and poor area of D.C., though it is also being gentrified, so almost anyone could live there). But even that person didn't point out the extensive use of derogatory, hateful terms or the lack of anger pointed towards white teenagers.

All of this is in strong contrast to the treatment of other maligned groups, like the disabled. For example, plenty of commenters complained about people who "look normal," but make use of facilities that are supposed to be for the disabled. Many other commenters came to the rescue, stating that no one should be quick to think that a person who looks able-bodied can’t be disabled. Multiple commenters also came to the rescue of "men" who are often attacked for not giving up their seats.

No one, not one person, took issue with all of the hateful descriptions of loud and obnoxious black teenagers. No one said, for instance, that we should be careful about assuming who these teenagers are and where they're from. No one pointed out that many teens want to look like they're from the poorer and rougher parts of town, even though they’re actually from the more affluent parts, and furthermore, that this is a universal trait -- some black teens do it, just like some white teens do it.

There’s also the fact that most of these commenters probably don't ride the train to the parts of town where they seem to think these "street urchins" go -- so how would they know anything about where they're from and what they know? These are simple and basic corrections that anyone ought to be able to make, but no one did. Wondering why we would assume that only the truly disabled "look" disabled, and why we would be so quick to malign all men for the actions of a few, though, were corrections deemed plenty worth making.

I'd like to be clear: I’m not really taking issue with the obviously ignorant and racist commenters (in the sense that I know these people exist, and I personally don't waste a whole lot of breath or time on them). Rather, I take issue with the people who read the racist comments and didn't think enough to question their legitimacy or factuality. I take issue with the people who read those comments, knew better, but didn't think they should say so. Probably because, truth be told, they felt the same way.

Why is this? Why would people read these comments and not think enough of the absurdity to correct the original poster in the same way disparaging comments about the disabled, or women, or men are often corrected?

Even the commenter who pointed out that we can't assume all these kids are from poor neighborhoods didn't dare touch the horrible titles used to refer to them. I'm going to make a large assumption that I can't prove (but feel is true) that Unsuck DC Metro is frequented mostly by white people. If so, that would mean that white commenters feel a sense of security in expressing inflammatory views that I, as a black woman, might disagree with, but that another white person might readily agree with.

How white people speak to each other about minority groups when there are no minorities present is something I would never be privy to in "real life," but I have heard a lot about it. In an all-white environment, there’s an implicit assumption that because everyone looks the same, they have the same opinion about the "others." And so, it’s okay to spew vile racism about the “others.”

Not only was this assumption clearly made in this post’s comments, but no one refuted it. The simple failure to correct racist comments suggests that every person who read the comments agreed with the assertion that only Section-8 kids have no future or upbringing, and that they are street urchins, undeserving of the simple respect of at least being referenced as if they are human.

Of course, the other problem here is how all the obnoxious white teens get overlooked. No one mentions them, in either a derogatory or a straightforward manner. I guess they don't bother anyone when they run around train stations (like their black counterparts), act loud (like their black counterparts) and obnoxious (like their black counterparts), and generally make commuting just that much more annoying (like their black counterparts). Or, perhaps, it's actually that when they do these things they’re seen as normal, rambunctious teenagers, but when their black counterparts do it, it's seen as almost criminal...

I'm more interested in what the readers of this blog (swpd) think explains why white people do this, rather than affirmation that they do it. Is it because they don't think maligned minorities need someone to stand up for them, especially in their absence? Do they not think that's their job?

What about the commenter who wanted us to remember that these black teen subway riders could be from anywhere, but apparently didn't take issue with how they were referenced? Is there a fear that if they stand up for them, they will in turn be attacked?

One of my close friends was the first person to "hip" me to what happens in a room full of white people (read: the first person to make me consider what actually happens). She told me she's been attacked when she's tried to disagree, and that she always notices the difference in how she’s treated or spoken to after the fact (I told her that though I know it's hard, it's people like her who can make a real difference -- but that's another post for another day).

Is there, then, some fear that standing up to racism from other white people will make you less white?

I guess in the end I'm not so disturbed by what these teenagers were called because this is America in a supposedly post-racial society. However, it's the passive agreement in situations like these that furthers these ignorant and absurd ideas. These people are just like the police officer who forwarded that ignorant e-mail to his co-workers after the Dr. Gates' incident. He'd probably sent similar e-mails to a certain group and no one ever stood up to him. Or how about the TN state lawmaker's aid who did something similar? How many of us receive offensive e-mails everyday? Maybe it's not offensive to us, but it is to others, and yet we say nothing?

That passive agreement furthers the assumption people make that everyone who looks like them thinks like them. It's important to nip that thought process in the bud, even at the risk of losing some of your "whiteness." It's ironic, but I believe that if we're ever going to truly realize the post-racial society people seem to so want, it'll be white people who push us over the edge. That's why it's important to include them on topics of race, and that's also why it’s especially important to expect them to speak up.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Our Style

Friday: Never apologize for not knowing how to cook. Even if you can't burn like Grandma you know how to order good take out.
Today: Never apologize for your taste in clothes. It's your style.


I wouldn't consider myself very trendy when it comes to clothes. I loathe clothes shopping and can't wait to be able to afford my own personal shopper. As a result, I don't spend a lot of time wandering the aisles of my favorite high-end fashion retail... err department clothing store checking out the latest fashions. I'd rather go in, grab the old trusty items and head straight for the shortest check-out line and be on my way.

Electronic stores, though, I can be in there all.day.long. ::shrug::

In any case, I have a style that's my own. A style that I'm comfortable with and a style that I think, for the most part, fits me. From time to time I've been known to branch out for the shock factor, but for the most part, I'm completely predictable and that's fine by me. I realized a long time ago that it made no sense to me to spend my time worried about what others thought of my clothing choices when none of them were paying to keep my closet stocked with the latest styles.

I was talking to a friend about this blog post and she said, "I have seen some mistakes that people werent aware of, but I get it; people have to like themselves... I went on to add that there are basic rules to the clothing game and I think we can all think of the major faux pas... ("just because they make it in your size, doesn't mean you have to wear it...") but what matters is that you're comfortable with what you're wearing. And even with our favorite cases of "What are you wearing?" if they like it and don't mind all the crazy stares and awkward side eyes they're going to receive, I can't help but to silently and reluctantly co-sign their decision. At least as far as doing what makes you feel comfortable.

What I like are individuals who look good in what they wear because they exude confidence. I've seen stars like Rihanna in some stuff that on almost anyone else I'd have to judge them for, but she has the confidence (and quite frankly, the fashion capital) to pull it off and then suddenly -- bam! Everyone wants it. Do ya'll remember when she first did this haircut:

Folks thought she was crazy at first., but then the next thing you knew, folks were cutting their hair similarly and dying their hair black, and even now, people look to Rihanna for what's next in both clothes and hair style.

Cassie's half-head haircut was really a crash and burn less because it looks awkward and more because we all know she did it to get attention. I look at her and I don't see confidence. I don't see an attitude that says "I did this because I can and I like it..." I see an attitude that says "I need you to pay attention. Look over this way..." There are those of us who need folks to look and those of us who don't really care. The latter can pull off almost any look and typically, the former end up following on some real extreme b.s.

I digress, though. The point is, find a style that is yours -- hair, clothes, or otherwise. It can be completely unique or it can be pretty generic -- as long as it works for you, looks good on you and you're confident wearing -- and then don't apologize for it.

As a note, we're winding down this series. It took up the last half of November and we're half way through December -- quite a long series. We only have 4 more days.

Tomorrow Never apologize for changing your mind, it is your perogative.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Not Cooking

Yesterday: Never apologize for demanding respect. You are to always be treated as a queen.
Today: Never apologize for not knowing how to cook. Even if you can't burn like Grandma you know how to order good take out.

A few days ago, OneChele at Black 'n Bougie posed 5 questions that she answered and encouraged her Bougie Readers to answer. One of the questions was "What are your thoughts about women who don't cook? Do you cook?" My answer was

I don't have a strong opinion on poeple who don't cook. You should at least be able to sustain yourself; there's no need to be a gourmet chef unless you work in a restaurant, but to be completely incapable of pulling together at least one full meal (main dish + at least 2 side dishes/casserole equivelent = full meal) is problematic. I think all men and women should be able to cook SOMETHING.

I think everyone should know how to cook something. ANYTHING. But if you don't, don't apologize for it! Go find a simple recipe and go from there.

I can't burn in the kitchen like my mom can, but I do well enough to still be alive. I love men who can cook. A mentor of mine, who's like a father figure, does the cooking in his family. I remember the first time I went over to his house and he cooked dinner; I thought it was just because I was there -- but as I grew closer to his family, I learned he was the chef in the house. One day I asked him why. He told me, I asked my wife what household chore she hated the most because that's the one I would do exclusively. She said cooking, so I cook. I thought that was too precious and I've since fallen in love with the idea of marrying a man who can cook. I realized how tied I was to the thought when I began dating a guy earlier this year who can't really cook.

"Hey. You should come over tomorrow and we'll watch a movie and make dinner."

"Ok. Sounds like a good plan." jokingly, I added, What are you going to make?"

"Um. I don't know. What do you think? Truth is, I can't really cook at all."

record scratch

I'm not dating him, anymore.

Ok, the truth is, I'm not dating him anymore because he'll be living in another country in less than a month -- I don't do long-distance relationships that have to exist as such for longer than 1 year and this would be at least 3, maybe more. But I won't lie -- when he said that he can't really cook the record did briefly scratch. Ultimately, I found it kind of cute that he suggested we make dinner (and he did help) even though he couldn't cook.

What was ultimately a good thing was his willingness to learn and not to sit back and expect me to do all the cooking. He wanted to help. He didn't apologize for not knowing how, which I respected, but he did throw himself out there to be taught and you can't frown your nose up at that.

Monday: Never apologize for your taste in clothes. It's your style.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Demanding Respect

Yesterday: Never apologize for dating outside your race. Just because you found Mr. Right across the color line doesn't mean you don't love your brothas.
Today: Never apologize for demanding respect. You are to always be treated as a queen.

I struggled to write this one. I had no motivation on this. I think it's because this is too basic to need explication.

I wrote a guest post for another blog (it has yet to be featured, but I'll let you guys know when it does) where I took issue with the free-use of euphemisms for black teens that reduces them to "urchins" and animals; creatures, really. It's disgusting the way humans will refer to one another sometimes as if it's ok. We all (well most of us -- that woman who sold her daughter in N.C. doesn't count, for example) deserve to be treated as humans. We deserve that basic respect.

We should expect anyone we come into contact with to treat us with basic respect. Looking us in the eye, listening to what we have to say, acknowledging our presence, etc...

The simple way to avoid apologizing for demanding respect is to accept nothing less. You don't have to be crude or crass about it, but when people know what you expect, they will often rise to the occasion. I'm reminded of a dr visit I had a few years ago. I had an embarassing and very painful problem that I was being told over and over again could only be cured with surgery. I have this irrational fear of surgery and so when the dr began talking about it, I got emotional. My mother ended up having to come into the room and it all went downhill from there.

She began asking questions that he had already answered but she had not been in the room for. I think he thought she was accusing him of making me cry and his tone went from moderately condescending to downright rude. I was so worked up about the thought of surgery that I acted out of character and listened to him damn-near belittle my mother because she was confused. Had I been thinking straight, I probably would've punched him in the face. Thinking about it now gets me incensed. You don't talk to me like that, and you definitely don't talk to my mother that way. I do remember getting up from the table, though, and grabbing my mom by the hand while he was mid-sentence. I couldn't kick him like I wanted to, but I could walk out. We paid the co-pay and refused to answer their calls for a follow-up.

How you treat others and treat yourself is what shows how you expect to be treated. I also try to treat people with respect until they give me every reason not to and if it comes to that, no words need to be exchanged, I just need to go. I'm reminded of a conversation I had with a friend where we were talking about people who get in your face during an argument. "If we're that close, we don't need to be exchanging words; you obviously wanna go for blows..." she said. If you're so disrespectful that I can't respect you back, well we don't need to talk; you obviously don't want my respect.

Don't apologize for demanding respect, as long as you're giving it (within reason) to others and yourself.

Tomorrow: Never apologize for not knowing how to cook. Even if you can't burn like Grandma you know how to order good take out.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Who We Date

Yesterday: Never apologize for ordering dessert or more than one dessert.
Today: Never apologize for dating outside your race. Just because you found Mr. Right across the color line doesn't mean you don't love your brothas.

Finding Something New, catching Jungle Fever, getting your swirl on... we have all kinds of euphemisms for it, but it's still one of those really touchy subjects: interracial dating. Every blog has a requisite post on interracial dating (and if they don't, it's coming...) we've all talked about it, thought about it and some of us have done it.

The reason this topic gets so much press and can evoke very passioned responses is because race is not an easy topic in this country. We like to say we're in a post-racial society, but we're not. Racism still abounds, it's still a big deal and even though interracial marriages make up more than 7% of all marriages in this country we're still not comfortable with it.

But we're not talking about marriage. We're talking about dating. Going to see a movie, having a drink, spending a couple of hours with (gasp) a person of a different race. Sounds simple, and I think it can be, but trust me when I say I know that it's not.

J (for anyone who may be new/missed me saying this, J is my ex and he was white) seemed completely oblivious to the stares we would get when we would go out. Almost to the point of aggravation on my end. I talked before about our experiences with bold waitresses

We would argue all the time about whether or not our waitresses were flirting with him. He would swear up and down that they weren't. Eventually he admitted that he knew they were flirting with him, but he didn't want to admit it to me because he didn't know how it'd make me feel (that he didn't shut it down...)

I wasn't the insecure/jealous type so mostly my irritation at the waitresses was more on a "can you please be more professional" level than anything else. I wasn't actually worried that he'd take their bait.

I can say that part of what bothered me more was knowing that for these white waitresses thinking that J was in a relationship with me was too far-fetched.

There was also the staring. I vividly remember going to eat at one of J's favorite restaurants during a busy dinner service. We were positioned in such a way that his back was to the entire restaurant but I had a perfect view of the people around us. There was a booth off to my right where 3 girls were seated shortly after J and I ordered. I didn't pay them any attention until I realized one of the girls kept leaning over to get a better look at me, and, presumably J. Of course everytime I told J to turn around she'd quickly scoot back inside the booth. He knew, though -- by then he was aware of the staring, he just didn't think it was worth it to worry about it.

I say all that to say that of course there are people out there who "don't approve" or take issue with interracial dating and that's their problem. Really. Letting them bother you, especially letting what you think they think get to you is making their problem your problem and that is no bueno.

But what about your friends? What about the black guys who think that a black woman with a non-black man is a traitor and somehow takes it personally? I can say with certainty that there were black guys I had known for years who never seemed to care about who I was dating or what I was doing romantically until they found out I was dating a white guy. I didn't understand it and none of them were negative about it (they couldn't be, almost all of them had dated non-black girls) but I noticed it. You are not a traitor because you date outside of your race. You are no less black for dating outside your race because, surprisingly, race has nothing to do with who you date/marry/sleep with (ask Tiger Woods).

You don't have to justify who you're attracted to, or who you date to anyone. I've said before:

...the point I'm trying to make is that I could go into all of the social reasons why I'm open to dating outside of my race and make some larger point about how we all need to just chill out and mind our own business. You know, ultimately, one shouldn't have to justify why they choose to be in relationships with whomever they choose to be in relationships with. That's the individual's business and surely none of mine. No one should ever, in my opinion, justify the type or sort of people they are attracted to. Attraction in and of itself is hard to explain and thus is all the explanation necessary.

I have found that most of the time there's a larger question [people who are fascinated by my dating history] want to ask or discussion they want to have that usually goes back to how "black" I am, which is also a stupid question. I'm black. That's enough -- who I do or don't date has nothing to do with my ethnicity.

I'll never, ever try to "justify" or "explain" why I date non-black men by placing the blame on anyone else. I date men -- period. There wasn't some wayward relationship I had with a black man that made me decide all black men were dogs and thus I'd only date white men. If you're attracted to people outside of your race, that's fine. But we shouldn't make people feel like they have to explain it and on the flip side we shouldn't feel like an explanation has to be at the expense of a group of people, most of whom we don't even know.

Frequently I've found that people who date interracially want to tell you a sob story about all the people within their race they dated that made them decide never to do it again. Those people are stupid, just like people who are against interracial relationships. I've never understood why I can have non-black friends but I can't date them.

It's not everyone's cup of tea. That's fine. But if you want to date someone of another race, you should feel ok to do that, you should feel like your friends will support you and you should feel like you don't have to explain it to anyone. If you don't feel that way, you need new people around you. I often found that if I didn't offer an explanation, no one asked me for one. You can even assert your decision in such a way that dares someone to ask you to explain it. It doesn't always work, but it can. Regardless, don't apologize for who you date to anyone. It's not worth it.

Tomorrow: Never apologize for demanding respect. You are to always be treated as a queen.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Satisfaction

Yesterday: Never apologize to your new friends about old friends. There's a reason she's been your girl from day one.
Today: Never apologize for ordering dessert or more than one dessert.

J used to get mad at me sometimes when we'd go out to eat. He'd swear I curtailed how much I ate because we were together. "I hate it when girls eat less to impress guys..." he'd say. Because of the distance, we didn't spend tons of time together and I think just the excitement of knowing I'd be spending a few days with him would eat into my appetite, at first, but I always got over that. I enjoy food. :)

But let's make this bigger than simply getting dessert. There's nothing wrong with doing something for your own satisfaction, within reason, obviously. Buying a new pair of shoes, not necessarily because you need them but because you like them and can afford them (note: affordability assumes that you're not dipping into rent money, bill money or other "already spent" money to buy something. We call this disposable cash, and if you're unfamiliar with this concept, that's a problem. E-mail me. We can talk about it) then get them.

Msbehavin at This Little Write of Mine just talked about wanting to go on vacation by herself, the only "problem" is that people are telling her she shouldn't. I guess because they wouldn't go on vacation by themselves, no one else should. That's false, actually. We can't let our own insecurities effect other people. Sure, a good friend would caution her to take care of herself and watch out for the rapists who always wear signs that say "Stay Away From Me" and such, but to discourage an adult from doing something for their own satisfaction? Not ok.

I mentioned previously stealing away one weekend. I holed up in a random hotel in a random city for a weekend and told only 2 people where I was going (you know, in case I never made it back) and I left. I did that because I just wasn't interested in hearing what everyone else thought about what I wanted to do, for my own satisfaction.

Thinking about random conversations I've had lately led me to post this as my gchat status

What is it about people that their first instinct is to be critical? As if it is their job to be sure no one is on a high horse. We shouldn't let our own insecurities become others' killjoys.

You know why we don't go for dessert, let alone a second piece? Because people will be critical; they will have something to say. It amazes me the way people seem to always go for criticism, first. I'm all for being honest with people and letting them know the flaws in their plans/ideas/whathaveyou but why do we always go straight for the "this sucks" line, instead of trying to find what's good about it?

It's a discussion worth having, but in the interim, I'll have a slice of red velvet cheesecake and a cookie, and no, there will be no "sorry" as an afterthought.

Tomorrow: Never apologize for dating outside your race. Just because you found Mr. Right across the color line doesn't mean you don't love your brothas.

Things We Don't Apologize For: Who Our Friends Are

Yesterday: Never apologize for wearing a weave or braids. You bought it so it's yours.
Today: Never apologize to your new friends about old friends. There's a reason she's been your girl from day one.

One afternoon, a friend of mine came over to my dorm room to do some studying. We'd been doing more talking and joking around then studying, but that was the way of undergrad. We were getting ready to go for some food when my friend noticed a picture on a shelf...

"So, I'm not trying to get in your business or anything, but what's up with all the white people?

I turned around in my chair and stared my friend in the eye, hoping this conversation wasn't headed where I thought

"I'm not sure I follow."

She hesitated...

"I mean, all your friends from home that we've met have been white. I'm just asking, what's up with that? Did you not have any black friends in high school?

I took in a deep breath silently both to calm myself and also to create an awkward silence

"Yes, I had black friends in high school. I'm sure you'll meet some of them at some point, but does that matter? Are my white friends a problem for you?"

She stuttered, stopped and looked at me to figure out how badly she'd messed up with me, before she continued.

"N-no. They're not a problem. I just think it's kinda weird how they're the only ones we've met and most of your friends here are black. I mean, how much do you really have in common with them?"

"I get it that some of ya'll didn't interact with white people before college, and that's cool, but I went to a private school so they were everywhere. The friends of mine that you've met are true blue friends. We've been through a lot and at this point, the fact that they're white is rarely an issue for us. You can let it be an issue for you, and that's cool or whatever, but those are my girls and they've had my back like I've had theirs."

Feeling a bit emboldened, she finally made her point

"Yeah, but I'm sure there's some stuff they don't get about you the way we do."

I didn't feel like arguing with the dense, so I ended it

"You're absolutely right. There are somethings they don't get about me, but then again, there are some things you obviously don't get about me either."

This is a conversation I've had to have more than once, with more than one person and in more than one way. The first person I had to have this conversation with was my mother.

"Just because you go to school with those white people, doesn't make you white..."

My mother didn't like me spending the night places, but especially not at the homes of my white friends. I can still vividly remember the many arguments we had. After one especially heated argument, I was fed up...

"You can go spend the evening there, but you will be coming back home to sleep. That's just the end of it. If you can't find a way back to the house, then you don't need to go. Don't you have some friends closer by you can hang out with?"

"I don't get it. You send me to school with these white kids and then get mad at me for making them my friends..."

Two of my closest friends from high school are white. I'm still cool with all the black people I graduated with (well, except one, but that is SO another story) and I even consider myself close to a number of them, but I don't seem to ever have to apologize for my friendships with them.

I didn't go through all the same things with my black friends that I did with my white friends. Not in high school. You see, the black people were friends because we were black; not necessarily because we liked each other. Me and my white friends? We got to be friends because we had stuff in common, we had shared experiences; we liked each other for who we were. Don't get me wrong, eventually my black friends and I realized we had lots in common, we created shared experiences (you try being the only black kid in at least one class for 5 years) and some of us began to genuinely like each other; however, I've never had to apologize to any new white friends for my old black friends but I'm always being asked to apologize for my old white friends to my new black friends. I quit doing that when I noticed a habit my black friends and I had in college.

I was walking with 2 of my friends to the dining hall. We were all having a spirited conversation when a white guy interrupted us to say hello to one of my friends.

There was a brief silence before my friend spoke
"That was Kevin from my theater class."

The conversation we'd been having picked up again, until I decided to switch the subject

"You guys ever notice how that always happens?"

"What?"

"If a white person comes up to speak, the group gets quiet until someone explains why."

"Oh yeah, that's true."

"Like we just did it. Kevin says 'hi' and we waited for Alex to tell us who he was and how he knows him. It doesn't matter who you're with, that silence afterwards always happens. Like it's an understanding that all relationships need to be explained."

Not only had we all been apologizing for meaningless relationships, but we'd been expecting it of one another. I decided at that point I was over apologizing. I didn't even know what I was apologizing for and I surely didn't like the thought of it.

My friends are my friends. I'm not naive about race and what that means for every day interaction. I meet white folks all the time who get on my last nerve and I've surely gotten to know some white people very well only to then realize they were too ignorant for my life. But I've also met some white people who I'm glad to call friend and who, when compared to some black folks I know, proved to be better friends. There really is a reason these people are friends of mine. There's a reason all my friends are my friends and I don't apologize to any of them for it just like I don't apologize to any strangers for it.

Don't apologize for your old friends to your new friends. If the new friends are really your friends, then all that doesn't matter anyway.

Tomorrow: Never apologize for ordering dessert or more than one dessert.