Category Archives: Uncategorized

Unmarried, Educated and OK!

I have been meaning to get back to my blogging for months but work has had me extremely stressed and tired lately. My Facebook memories reminded me of an article I came across last year that stated that black women who are college educated are least likely to have a well-educated spouse. First, let me say that there is a major difference between being well educated and highly intelligent. Some of the most intelligent people I know have not been afforded the opportunity to receive formal education.

Back to this article (found on, which states that “a large percentage of Black women with college degrees remain unmarried because they seek to only wed a Black, educated man.” To me, that says that Black women don’t stand a chance at a marriage unless they have low standards or club a man over the head like a cave woman. While I agree that the marriage rates among White educated females and Black educated females is drastically disproportionate, I do not believe that I should have to compromise my standards or “dumb myself down” to find a partner that can bring just as much to the table if not more.

When considering the marriage rate among college educated Black women and college educated White women, you must consider the following:

  • The reason White women go to college is usually to get a husband and the degree is secondary. It’s not something that is often discussed but when you spend your dorm years with White female peers you pay attention and observe things. Based on my experience, at a predominately White university, White women seek degrees in fields that will put them in the best position to interact with men who are striving for success. Let’s not get into that whole white privilege thing. I have actually been told by some of my non-melanated female friends that they went to college with the goal of getting a husband but if they didn’t, they would have a degree to fall back on.
  • The reason Black women go to college is because we are often raised (and I am speaking from my personal experiences and the experiences of my close friends) in families full of Black women who are single mothers taking care of things alone. We are not often given the option of going to college to find husbands because we know that we are either on scholarship, cannot afford to waste our financial aid or cannot afford to rack up student loans without being successful. As young Black women, we are taught and conditioned not to depend on anyone and we go to college to survive in a world that may or may not include a husband. Education in a Black household is more about self-preservation and less about finding a spouse. As a matter of fact, I can recall being told not to let “no nappy headed ass little boy distract me.”
  • The stigma attached to black women who are highly educated and successful is more negative that of our White or Latina female peers. Society chooses to feed into the idea that black women are hard, unwilling to compromise, reluctant to submit, loud and angry. Media chooses to focus on those Black female images that are negative (as shown on every reality show on BET, MTV and VH1) with little or no balance to what our reality actually looks like.

As it relates to interracial marriages, you have to consider the past. I know, I know… I know. The past is in the past and we should leave it there with Black Jesus, Egyptian Kings and Queens and slavery. In this case, you have to consider where our people, that is Black people, have come from in terms of how we view each other in intimate relationships. For a very long time there was the mentality that “WHITE is right,” that was spoon fed to us like Mary Poppins’ proverbial “spoon full of sugar.” During slavery, our men were taken from us, bedded by White women and killed in return. Let me remind you all that Emmett Till’s accuser recently admitted to lying about the incident that caused a 14 year old child to be brutalized and murdered. 50+ years later and this woman admits to what Black people have known all along, and there are seemingly no consequences. The fact that she was taken at her word just because she was White says a lot about the times they were living in and the fact that nobody seemed to care that she admitted the lie in 2016 says a lot about how little society has changed. But I digress…

Now let me remind you of how these same slave plantation owners that whipped, demoralized and emasculated our men continued to rape our women ( in front of their men) and used them as a tool to create more Black slaves. In this history, one could conclude that white women were the unattainable prize on this pedestal for Black men and Black women were over sexed, angry and insatiable baby machines to white men. Some Black people still have the remnants of that slave mentality and strive to attain the things that they were conditioned to believe they were unworthy of for so many years (education, money, White women, etc).

As a Black woman, I am perturbed at how we always have to be criticized, analyzed, dissected, labeled and explained as if we are a mental illness. Last year when I read this article I felt defeated and saddened by how I was being generalized because I am a Black woman with a degree and planning to get several more. This year when I read it I felt empowered to go against the data and prove the research wrong. Personally, I see myself marrying a strong, black educated man who appreciates having a strong, black, educated woman by his side.


…the hereafter is a hustle. We want it NOW!

Yesterday I was in a fog. I heard his name and did not pay attention to it. Alton Sterling… Alton Sterling… Alton Sterling. I was doing a million things trying to earn my paycheck and didn’t even have time to check FB, much less watch the news. By the time I made it home last night I heard a bit of buzz about a black man killed in Louisiana by the police and the body camera fell… or something. I didn’t think much of it and it’s a shame that a black man being killed by a white cop doesn’t even surprise me anymore.

I woke up rested and ready to take on the world. Much like every American with a social media addiction, the very first thing I do when I wake up is check my Facebook. This morning the first thing I read was someone saying that they could not bring themselves to watch another video of a black man being killed on the internet. The very second thing I saw was the video of this man being killed, of which I scrolled right past. I refuse to watch because I feel that videos like that are disrespectful to the family members of this man. I don’t believe in making a video go viral of a King being shot to death by the very same people who took an oath to serve and protect. Well, where is the protection? When are all people going to be protected and treated
with respect?

Let me tell you what I did watch…

I watched this man’s 15 year old child grieve for his father in a voice that was full of pain, sorrow, hurt and love. I can still hear that child’s cries in the back of my head and unlike a lot of my friend’s and followers, I am not in tears. I am not crying. I am not sad. I am not melancholy. I AM PISSED OFF. I AM ENRAGED. I AM DOWN RIGHT BIG MAD!

It is a sad sad day when Jesse Williams’ speech gets more attention from racist whites than the black men and women who are losing their lives. Driving to work, my blood was boiling because I cannot understand how people expect us to believe that skittles, loose squares, loud music, failing to use a FUCKING turn signal, a wallet and CD’s are justifiable reasons to take our lives? Carrying a gun in an open carry state is NOT a reason to kill a black man but can shoot a white man poppin rounds at cops in the leg. I can’t even get my words to make sense right now because I am so angry.

I am angry at white people who don’t see us as people but as black people. I am angry at our justice system for validating this weak ass belief that black lives don’t matter. I am angry at the social media activist arguing with the social media racists and thinking something will change. We can make a million memes that urge people to STAY WOKE and PRAY for (insert name of whichever black life lost you choose), but a meme and a prayer won’t solve anything. At the end of the day, staying woke is pointless if you’re not getting up and putting some action to it. It’s time to wake up, rise up and change up our mentality. As a people, we can come together and accomplish so much but with the crabs in a barrel mentality we will remain disposable, expendable and invisible. I will just drop this right here for y’all… 

We’ve been floating this country on credit for centuries, yo, and we’re done watching and waiting while this invention called whiteness uses and abuses us, burying black people out of sight and out of mind while extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment like oil – black gold, ghettoizing and demeaning our creations then stealing them, gentrifying our genius and then trying us on like costumes before discarding our bodies like rinds of strange fruit. The thing is though… the thing is that just because we’re magic doesn’t mean we’re not real.”

—Jesse Williams


Invisible Girl

When you’re used to living in a world where no one believes in you, no one supports you and no one nurtures you… you become invisible. You dream the dreams of dreamers and you work towards your goals. You achieve those goals and all of a sudden, everyone is so proud of you. The are proud of your accomplishment but they don’t know your journey because you were invisible. While the world moved around you, you just existed as an invisible person who often went unnoticed. You learned to love through pain and you learned to laugh in that moment just before crying. When you feel like no one in the world TRULY knows you, you become invisible. When you realize that you walk through life surrounded by selfishness, you stay invisible because your visibility only matters when it is useful. You’re invisible when you realize that there is not one person who bothers to really check on you. Not a “hey, how you doing?” but a “how is your spirit, how is your soul?” When you spend time motivating people, caring for people, supporting people, loving people and nurturing people… you become invisible. When your life revolves around other people’s happiness and the joy you can help others receive, you become invisible. But at some point, you have to learn to see yourself. You live your dreams and stop caring about how and if other people care enough to see you, nurture you, support you or applaud you. You become happy being in a lonely and invisible place. Once you step into the light of invisibility, people will begin to see you.

Good Fruit Comes from Strong Roots!

As I sit here watching the remake of Roots, I am also scrolling through various social media sites and I cannot fathom how people can continue to say they are boycotting this movie or writing it off as “another slave film.” When I heard that the remake of Roots would be airing this Memorial Day, I watched the original movie. I wanted to be able to compare the two appropriately.

I particularly want to touch on the video that Snoop Dogg put on social media about how he was not watching Roots and why don’t our people tell other stories. I was amused by the video because Snoop Dogg or Snoop Lion, or whatever the hell he is calling himself, is the quintessential pot calling the kettle black. How DARE Snoop, who has been in the public eye for almost 3 decades, question how other influential people portray black people? What has Snoop done to portray our people in a positive light? How many stories of African Kings and Queens has Snoop told? How many stereotypes has Snoop perpetuated through his music and movies? Two words to answer these questions… Soul Plane! That is all! He has made millions rapping about weed, liquor and naked bitches while raising a passel full of children who need to get a sense of their history from places other than upper crust suburban private school teachers who don’t give a damn if his children know their true history. Now Snoop isn’t the only celebrity that feels this way but his video has the most attention today. Watching that video made me think about that scene in Poetic Justice when Lucky told Chicago to stop trying to down a nigga when he wasn’t doing shit productive. Niggas always trying to criticize somebody else’s work when their own shit is raggedy.

While Roots is absolutely another slave film and touches on sensitive subjects, I  cannot imagine never having seen this movie. Any American with a drop of African blood needs to see this movie and understand the story. The pride in Kunta Kinte, the undying support of Belle, the motherly love in Kizzy and the determination in Chicken George. These characters are who they are because of their history and because of the importance of passing down that history through their stories.
If you cannot articulate to your children where they came from and the power in their blood, how will they ever understand the idea that they are Kings and Queens? I only wish more of our families had passed on the personal family histories so that we could share with each other the greatness of our people.

If you are a black man or woman and you don’t think this film needs attention then you are an ignorant fool who is living with blinders on. The importance of the remake is to try to get the attention of the younger generation because they are the ones that we are constantly losing because they have NO self esteem. People are saying that slave movies like Roots are made to keep that slave mentality ingrained in black folks but if all you are receiving is the negativity then what do you expect. If you cannot see the Phoenix rising from the ashes is Roots then perhaps you should see the original and read the book. Instead of looking for a film, book, article, video or celebrity to enlighten your children and nurture their self esteem, why not take the opportunity to watch difficult movies and read difficult books with them in order to teach them how to think, formulate opinions and gain a greater understanding of the people from which they came?

Don’t leave it up to society to teach our people about their history, good and bad. Understand that reality is reality, from the Pharaohs in Egypt to Barack Hussein Obama. You can’t fully enjoy the fruit of the tree without appreciating the strength of the ROOTS!

To The Forgotten Children on Mother’s Day

Ordinarily I would flood my fb page with pics of my mom and aunts but this year I felt a different feeling. For the past few weeks I have been thinking about my many friends and loved ones who have lost their mothers and the mothers who have lost their children. I decided to be more private about wishing my mother and aunts a Happy Mother’s Day this year. To everyone who has lost a mother:

There are never words to say that will make this day easier. I just hope that you all can find comfort in the memories of your mother’s smiles, laughs, lessons and blessings. A child is the greatest gift God can give a woman and although your mom may not be on earth, you will never lose the way she smelled, forget the way it felt to be wrapped in her arms or lose the feeling of unconditional love she gave. Although today will always be hard and a mom cannot be replaced, know that you are loved by aunts, grandmothers, cousins, friends and strangers. No one can love you like mama but you are all very loved. I pray your strength and piece of mind.

                               That Dope Black Girl 😘

Purple Tears…

Losing a legend has been difficult because I am addicted to music. I fiend for the high that I get from a true musician and artist. In this day and age, that is hard to come by.

I’ve seen Purple Rain at least 20 times in my 31 years and 11 months on this earth. It’s a movie that never gets old, like Pretty Woman, Love Jones and The Five Heartbeats. Just like all those movies, I had never seen Purple Rain on the big screen.

Purple Rain came out the year I was born and I have heard my mother tell the story of her friend from down the street who saw the movie 26 times when it came out. Let me put this in perspective for you, I cannot even tell you what this man’s government name is because I’ve only ever known him as Purple Rain. I always thought seeing the same movie in theaters 26 times was crazy. Until tonight…

I was mesmerized and captivated by Prince’s presence. Something about seeing it on a theater screen sent shivers down my spine and thrilled me to no end. It was bittersweet because his royal highness is no longer with us but I am so very thankful that he shared his gift with us. Some people never reach their potential and end up selling their souls while trying. Prince was able to do what he loved to do, what made him happiest, what brought real joy to people and he was able to do it with integrity.

About a month ago I was so pissed and him because I was trying to find his music online to purchase and because he is so protective of his artistry… I couldn’t find anything. But then I realized that the amazing music that he has created deserves to be protected and treated with a certain level of reverence.

Sitting in a crowded theater 31 years after Purple Rain premiered in theaters and a mere 6 days after his death made me emotional. The very first chord of the title track brought a few tears to my eyes but when the film was over and nobody got up to leave, I knew that I was experiencing the magic that my parents felt 31 years ago.

The difference is that their pulses probably quickened in excitement about what greatness Prince would create. My heart rate quickened (according to my handy dandy FitBit Charge) because I know that he surpassed everything that everyone imagined he could be.

I truly feel like Prince achieved what he was put on this earth to achieve. While hr will br missed, he accomplished what God put him on earth to accomplish and he did it exquisitely. I am overjoyed to have been able to see Purple Rain in a theater and will forever respect, cherish and appreciate the creative genious that will forever be Prince Rogers Nelson.

In Loving Memory

Barbershop 3… Funny, Painful, Honest!

I just left the theater seeing Barbershop 3 and I must admit that I was very impressed. From a Chicagoan who actually paid money to see the EPIC FAIL that was Chiraq, I am happy to see the violence in Chicago highlighted in a respectful way.

Barbershop 3 was funny and had a few laugh out loud moments. It kept with the Barbershop fashion and discussed all the taboo things that people (black folks) think but don’t say out loud.

More than anything you could see the real and raw emotion in the script and recognize the hurt, fear, anxiety and pain that anyone who walks the streets of the South Side or has lost a loved one to the gang violence. You get to see parents fighting for their children and the tough decisions that young men make daily. Ice Cube did a great job with shedding a comedic light on real life issues as opposed to that mockingly satirical piece of trash that depicted Chicago in a film makers exploitative imagery.

Now let’s be honest, giving out free hair cuts and weaves won’t stop the violence in urban America but it’s more realistic than without pussy from men who will run up in another man’s booty hole for recreational purposes. It all comes down to getting sick and tired of being sick and tired of losing these babies (GOOD AND BAD) and giving them the opportunity to live life, make mistakes, learn lessons and be productive.

Peter Gunz and his Sister Wives!

Last night as I got my weekly dose of ratchet tv, I heard Cardi B speak realness to Peter Gunz and his women. What bothered me was Cardi’s need to apologize to Peter at the end of the show.

Cardi spoke sincerely about her allowing men to pay her bills in exchange for the love, affection and everything else women give men. Peter interjected and described her behavior as hoe-ing. Well Ms. Cardi hit Peter with a haymaker when she told him that Tara and Amina are sexing Peter and crying over him for free when all he can give them is babies and a bad reputation. People always talk bad about Cardi but last night she had Amina and Tara sitting there being pregnant and looking dumb. These are two women who are fighting over and carrying babies for and man that can’t enhance their lives. Let’s be real, Peter can’t give a woman nothing but that old tired sperm and a wet ass.

Men like Peter don’t understand the type of psychological and emotional trauma they cause while playing games with women. You cannot teach your sons how to be men because as a 50 year old manchild, Peter has yet to figure it out himself. He cannot teach his daughters what a good man looks like because he does not love himself enough to receive love.

But if you watched the show, you will see that Tara and Amina were very uncomfortable in that moment and hopefully they will work on rebuilding their self esteem.

As a woman who knows what it’s like to be broken by a man and still addicted like a fiend, I hope these women have the strength and courage to leave. I hope that Peter gets the help that he needs and really received the message Cardi was giving.

At the end of the day, Tara and Amina may as well get themselves together and learn to love one another because they are stuck with each other (Cardi B voice) FOREVA!!!!

Fat Shaming??? Shame On You!

I’ve been fat as long as I  can remember. People try to serve it to me candy coated and call it pleasingly plump, thick, plus sized, bbw and a bunch of other larger than life names that all mean the same thing…… FAT. My doctor likes to call it overweight, too heavy or (my favorite) morbidly obese. I get it. I’m fat. I don’t know how I got here but I do know that I am tired of living in a world where I am called gross, disgusting, ugly and unhealthy. The truth is, sometimes I  feel those things so I don’t really need to be reminded of it. The world is full of all different types of people and everyone should be respected for just being human.

I’m sitting on a bench in the park writing this with tears in my eyes. The weather is nice and I decided not to get on the treadmill today and to go walking in the park. After walking about 1.5 miles I was exhausted but decided to push myself and jog the rest of the way to my car. I wasn’t pushing myself to show off… I was pushing myself because the home stretch was uphill and if I had walked I probably would have tumbled in a ditch from exhaustion. I was jogging slowly and giggling, thinking of how my grandma used to call me Turtle, when I approached the basketball court and heard laughter. Laughter loud enough for me to hear over the sound of LL rapping about his Cool J cookies so I stopped and looked around to see what the men on the court were laughing at. Well apparently they were laughing at me and my attempt at fitness. I’m not the one who likes the spotlight so I felt my face begin to flush and tears form in my eyes. I wish I could have turned into a tree but I said fuck it and kept going, only now I started walking. This guy who had passed me at least 4 times stopped and took my hand and began to jog with me. That act of kindness made the tears come but I held that stranger’s hand (with my other hand on my pocket knife of course) and kept going until I got to the table by my car, where I am writing this.

My journey to healthy living is just beginning and it won’t stop because of a few mean people. However, I hope people understand how their actions shape and mold people’s perception of themselves. Fat shaming is not new, which is why many overweight people workout at home. It’s hurtful being the chick that is laughed at for trying to do better. Luckily, my self esteem isn’t lacking because I see how one incident can make people give up on what already seems impossible. If you don’t know the struggle of being “morbidly obese” or have never struggled with your weight, you really have no clue the courage it takes to get out there and begin the journey. At first I said that I didn’t care because I would never see these faceless men, whose laughter taunted me, again but then I realized that I will likely see them very soon. I will be right here at this park tomorrow walking my fat ass around this trail and laughter or not, I won’t give up on myself.

Candidly DPG (DopeBlackGirl)

Last night I read an interview with Monica, who spoke of feeling like she was not the kind of woman that a man should love. She spoke of having been through so much with men that she felt like something was wrong with her. It’s natural to feel like that after a break up but how do you move past it and get on with life? Usually I have great words of wisdom or motivation but this subject stumps me every time. Let me be candid with you all.

When I think of what it means to be loved I don’t see the couples who stay together for the sake of their children or the couples who are comfortable with one another and afraid of change. When I think of real love, I think of that Michelle and Barack type of love. I think of the woman I met in the furniture store 2 years ago who had been married for 40+ years and when she spoke of her love for her husband her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. I think of the woman I met in Arkansas a few weeks ago who doted on her husband and spoke of him like we were all in high school and giggling at the lunch table, who has also enjoyed 40+ years of marriage.

Sometimes I wonder if I am unlovable. Sometimes I feel like I’m the chick that can always be liked but never be loved. No matter the amount of loyalty, honesty, trust and love I pour into relationships… I don’t even get a small percentage in return. It’s hurtful being the chick that no one wants and I often wonder why I am so hard to love. Am I a nagging bitch that’s impossible to live with? Am I a troll that is impossible to look at in the morning? Am I unapproachable, undesirable, unreasonable or just unwanted? I’m very protective of my insecurities so I have spent years trying to find the answer to one simple question. What about me is just never enough?

I have been told by an aunt that I need to  be careful because “men love to prey on fat girls.” I have been told by an almost family member that if I ever want to be happy I needed to lower my standards and be with someone “more like me.” I have been told by a man who supposedly loves me that I am likely still single because I’m overweight and it shows “a lack of mental strength.” These are just a few of the more biting comments that stand out in my mind when I think about why I am unlovable. Last night I got in my feelings and spent hours driving to clear my head. I thought about past relationships and failed attempts at relationships and I realized that I am not unlovable. What I realized is that people can only love you the best way they no how. People cannot give to you something they do not possess so I have been loved but I have not been loved the way that I have given it… unconditionally and strong. The only unconditional love I have yet to receive is the love God pours into me daily because sometimes even I find myself impossible to love. On those days, like yesterday, I feel like a failure at life. I don’t feel like I have reached my potential, almost as if I have just been going through the motions but not truly living.

Lately I’ve been feeling like the things I desire are not the things that are written in my destiny and what I have decided to do is live… in spite of it all. There is too much to enjoy about life and being alive to dwell on the things I don’t and may never have.
In the meantime, I’ll enjoy being in love with myself and taking advantage of new opportunities.