Most of the men that I have ever encountered in my life have seen me as a prize. As some sort of trophy. And albeit most don’t even mean to view or treat me that way purposefully, they still do. It’s rare that I find any man who will put forth the effort to understand the intricate details of who I am and take an interest in pertinence to who I am and strive to tap into the innermost parts of my being. A lot of the time men fear getting too deep with me. Other times they may bore of me because they simply cannot comprehend the way I function. Then there is the few who try to take that leap with me but end up giving up due to frustration. I mean it is frustrating on both ends. On their ends because of the nature of complexity in which my thought process works and accordingly on my end because I feel this constant struggle of denying myself an watering my true identity down in order to be understood; in order to become more…relatable. I don’t like being seen or treated as some mere object of gratification to a man; aesthetically or otherwise. I don’t like the idea of a man being “intimidated” by me or any means of inadequacy of a man direct towards me because the only difference between me and such a man is nothing more than fear. Beyond the make up, the hair, the glowy chocolate skin, and heck, even the way I speak or carry myself, there is a person. I’m literally a person; a soul. We are intimidated by what we fear and fearing an intelligent woman is definitely not a turn on or something that should even be an issue. It makes me question the way men — especially black men — are raised in this society. But that’s another topic for another day.
My blog has always been a point of contention in my relationships. I am a very free minded person. I’m open to receive the things of the world because I am constantly looking for ways to grow myself and become a better, well-rounded person. In past relationships, when men read or are made aware of the fact that I actually do think for myself and I write about my experiences unapologetically and dauntlessly, it always causes some kind of conflict. I’m sensitive about my writing because this is my safe haven so the fact that I have made it so public and allow people to come in and get a glimpse into my mind, I expect at the very least that people respect that this is MINE. This is my God-given gift to write and express myself artistically in such a precise and concise way. There is no guess work here. I state how I feel, I try to give an objective view and then I rest my case. I can think of one particular relationship where no matter what I wrote in my blog I wasn’t safe because of his insecurity. My blog, my outlet of expression became so watered down and fake to the point where I eventually gave up writing for a while. I figured that the only way that I could keep the peace was to kill the one thing that meant the very most to me…the one thing I absolutely enjoy doing which is helping people by just…well being me. Blogging isn’t just some pasttime or attention seeking thin I do when I’m bored. It is somethin that is utterly fulfilling and superbly cathartic to me. It’s such an amazing feeling to express myself and fellowship with others who may have gone through or are going through the same issues that I have faced.
So today, I am rebirthing myself. I’m ready to take that next step and just start being REAL. I cannot and absolutely refuse to water myself down for the sake of others. I need to remember exactly WHY I started this blog in the first place. It wasn’t to “throw shade” or diss anyone or even explain myself to anyone. It’s to heal. It’s to express. It’s to bring some sort of understanding and positivity out there to those who need or want it. It’s not some sort of argumentative place where I constantly have to defend myself from the perpetual condemnation from those who cannot even spare a moment of their time to actually digest what it is that I am saying. Instead they’d rather take it for face value than for what it could potentially mean. There’s value behind my words. There’s a story. There’s energy behind it. Beyond the black an white words that you may see. This is my art. My sanctuary. I just ask that you respect that. Even if you may not fully grasp the meaning or understanding behind it.