Day 13

I want to be in a place where I am not bitter about men, love, and relationships. I have no faith in any of them.

A lot of women chalk up their misfortune with love to a laundry list of "men are jerks" and "I always choose the wrong ones" or complete blaming: "it's my fault because of my issues." It's both. Men suck but so do we. Men are men because they are men. Women are women because of men. Our movement, our voice, our existence, however meek or mighty, is born from how men operate this world. Does this make me a bad feminist?

I'm scared of being alone and single. Currently and having been single all this time has become normal. Sure I want love in #him but even the tiny proof of its existence is unconvincing. All good things come to an end and for sure love is no exception. Men treat women the way they're taught and how we allow them to. Unfortunately, many of us don't advocate for what we truly want and need. So we get what's offered and gratefully accept. Then bitch because we didn't get better. Yes you deserve better, but you're the only person who believes that. Fix that. But if you only knew how.

If we believe the idea that there is someone for everyone, just one (keeping this argument simple), doesnt it mean that everyone we date is likely to be an ex? What kinda sickness do we commit ourselves to hoping that everyone we get emotionally attached to, from the first innocent hello to the last tumultuous, hard-to-say goodbye, is going to be our forever?

Love just feels like a stupid choice. Rather, a risky one. Why gamble your heart? What's most insulting is being met with "you just haven't found the right one yet to change your mind." Shouldn't I be the one to change my own mind?

I think the questions are more interesting than the answers.

Day 12

Day 10-11 is just lost.

I'm really struggling with my personal statement, again. I go through phases:

Phase 1: let me sit down and write a draft of my essay. I'm full of energy and enthusiasm for why Id be an awesome candidate.
Phase 2: *scans essay questions* simple enough. *opens fresh document*
Phase 3: spend time bulleting ideas, hit a wall where I've either repeated the same things or rewritten my résumé
Phase 4: begin perusing program website for inspiration
Phase 5: hit save and whine about nothing I've written is good enough or makes sense
Phase 6: mentally debate if its just writers block or really not knowing if I should be in graduate school if a simple statement is crippling me
Phase 7: wise up, realizing that I'm smarter, more talented and totally capable of being in graduate school, usually prompted by some interaction with either other awesome people or really not-so-awesome people, thus returning to Phase 1.

I'm between phase 5-6 right now. Sigh.

#31writenow

Day 8

25 things I like about me:

1. My soft curly fro
2. My ability to write well
3. Being older
4. Being smart (fave)
5. My lips
6. My thighs
7. My soft skin
8. Breasts
9. Generosity
10. Being able to understand math
11. Being creative (fave)
12. Being open-minded
13. Ability to tell funny stories
14. Ability to enjoy good company without alcohol
15. My feet, in a weird way
16. My ability to teach
17. Ability to remain calm in most situations
18. I can enjoy my own company
19. Having a sense of direction in unfamiliar areas
20. Desire to learn more in most situations (fave)
21. Valuing myself to be loved
22. Classic sense of style and taste
23. Being able to admit fault
24. Passion for my work
25. Being fortunate enough to be a resource to others


#31writenow

Day 7

A short letter to my future husband.

I've become more curious about you. I wonder about the days, weeks, months, maybe years leading to our union. The little details, like when your birthday is and your best features. I hope they are your eyes so I can see our future in them.

In our vows, I'd admit my fears in being married, that forever sounds wonderful but it's a long LONG time. I'd thank you for trusting me with your life and heart. That's a huge responsibility to take on and I would be ready and able to commit that to you.

I can't wait to meet the lifelong friend in you. We'd share secrets and French fries at the beach, even if you hate the beach. You'd tolerate it for me, but id rethink our next visit. I want to surprise you at work and talk shit about your coworkers in the cafeteria. We'd have ridiculous fights where one of us, probably me, would say something over the line and we wouldn't talk for hours. It would kill us because who really wants to go without talking to their best friend?

I want the man in you to bring perspective that I never could. Lets make decisions based on our collective experiences. I want to trust you with money, time, patience. I want us to respect each other's choices even if we completely disagree.

Sometimes I dream of our lives being totally mundane. The most exciting parts of our weekends would be trying a new laundry detergent or the takeout we order for dinner.

Oh, by the way, please don't expect me to be the world's best cook. I didn't always pay attention to my mother when she was in the kitchen. I haven't mastered cooking a turkey but I'm willing to learn. You won't starve though, if you enjoy omelettes, baked chicken, stirfry and soup. My mac and cheese game is being worked on. But you'll already know this.

I dream of missing you. Desperately when you are away on business, or out with your boys. I will show you how much I miss you with over the top affection that even makes me laugh. I want us to run home to each other, to the house we've made home and into each others arms. I want that everyday.

A girl can dream right? See you soon, lover.




Sent from my iPhone

Day 6

I have 55 minutes left before day 6 is over! Talk about commitment.

Ok: quick list of 5 things I want in the near future I could easily have but just...don't. Actually, lets make it 6 because it's the 6th. 

1. Paper towels. They're not environmentally-friendly, but I don't think my existence is either. Life is so much easier with paper towels. They feel like a luxury to me. 

2. Curtains. My mother has always loved curtains. They've never been drapes, or window treatments. Like most non-well-off folk, we always stuck sheets in the windows for curtains. As an adult, I have two really shitty panels in my windows and my third window has a pink sheet hung with binder clips. Classy. Like paper towels, luxury. Walk through the hood and count the number of windows treated with 250-count Spongebob-printed fabrics. 

3. Gym membership. I've had so many of these. Lucille Roberts. Bally's. Crunch. NYSC. Now I'm ready for Planet Fitness. It's a bit further than my NYSC but surely cheaper per month. I just don't wanna commit again and then quit again. 

4. A massage. My body hurts SO MUCH. A scalp massage would be awesome too. I took a scalding shower this am (not intentionally) and it felt amazing. I'm going to try to recreate that in the am. 

5. A new purse and wallet. Im a total cheapskate on both items. I think the purse I currently own is the most expensive at $30. My current wallet is one of those plastic ID holders which is falling apart. Lady wallets are so bulky and decompartmentalized. You have to flip, snap, tuck, zip and/or slide something to pull out a card or something. I also have a bad "holding on to receipts" problem. I went wallet shopping a couple days ago and I wasn't ever impressed with the offerings. Last thing I need is a man's wallet. 

6. A cool birthday party. I don't want to do an over the top 30 celebration. But 29? Why not? I just don't want a super taco fest. Actually, I'd love an over the top Sweet 16 MTV trash-ass type party.  Ridiculous custom-made dress and beaten-to-death themes like being a princess or some Arabian nights shit. Yup. 

Day 5

Day 5 is somewhat uninspired. I'm a mixed bag of emotions. This evening will go one of two ways:

--drinking into oblivion and passed out
--not drinking into oblivion and passing out in tears

Ill let you know tomorrow and maybe ill tell you why.

#31writenow

Day 4

"It's her birthday! Lets get my friend a shot!" I won't turn down hard liquor at 12:30pm. The bartender, newly transplanted from some boring ass town, gives us back our IDs. 

"Well...I would, had y'all came in a couple days ago. Today's the 20th. But happy belated chica! Ill make you something festive. And for you?"

Jason hands her his credit card. "Gin and tonic. And make hers strong enough she forgets how much of a horrible friend I am."

We all laugh corny laughs. I drink a glorified rum punch and Jason and I catch up. He leaves and insists I order another on him. 

Text: hey sis-still getting hair done. Wont see you til later. Drinks on me tonight? 🎉🍸

Good. I make small talk with Kentucky (later, Im corrected with Tennessee) and she closes out her shift. I'm ready for this nap. 

"Ayo shawty. Miss."

I'm counting down the crosswalk timer. 12, 11, 10... dudes still using shawty? I step into the street as he keeps yelling for my attention. 

"Ma, don't do me like that, lemme talk to you." I don't walk any faster but my shoulders tense as I do. Two more blocks to the subway. I hear his voice closer, now in step with me. I slow down, considering what I want to say versus what ill actually say.

"You too good to speak? You got a fat ass." He reached for my arm. I step backwards. 

"What's your name?" I look past him, as if I'm waiting for someone, something.

"...why? I don't have anything to say." I cross my arms, nervously flicking my metrocard between my fingers, wishing it was something sharper and filled with the courage I desperately wanted. 

He sizes me up, his eyes fitting me snugly through this purple, boxy-tshirt, the closest thing to clean in my closet and not at all attractive. I feel traces of perversion around the bends in my thighs as he licks lust off his lips. 

"Just tell me your name. I wanna know you."

"I-I have to go. Umm, have a good day. Bye." 

It's not that I've never been in this situation before. More than I should, actually. I can't even say I brought it on myself. I wasn't dressed like the slut he wanted. Could he tell I was not exactly sober? Did I put myself in this position?

I'm at the turnstile. He's behind me. He's not there, he's not there. 

His hand is where it shouldn't be. Caressing the sojourn from the small of my back up to the folds in my sides.

"The fuck off me!" Turning around to face my harasser. 

"You a big one too..." His hand is still at my side.

"Im. Not. Interes--" the screeching 6 train mutes the next 6 seconds of my life. 

"Ayo fuck you fat bitch. Didn't want your ugly tranny man lookin ass either." I see the key words underlined with his index fingers centimeters to my nose and feel a venomous conglomerate of saliva amalgamated on my right cheeks. The tears soon catch up with his rejection down my face and chin. He doesn't stick around long enough to enjoy his victory. 

I clean myself with yesterday's sports section and wait for the next train. When that cheek started to bleed from the daily scrubbing, I decided if we ever crossed paths again, I needed a plan.