SILENCE = CONSENT

Posts tagged “woman

My Wife, My Whore, My Baby Mama

“He said he wants me to be his wife, his whore, and the mother of his children. Then he proposed to me.”  That is something a young lady said on her Facebook page.  She was happy.  Celebrating her new engagement.  But, like clockwork, a firestorm of negative comments rang out from empowered black women.  She was accused of having low self-esteem.  She was berated for letting a man talk to her like that.  How DARE she revel in male misogyny and set the black female struggle back 50 years!  Why did she think it was a compliment?  Why did so many people congratulate her like she had accomplished something great?  I mean, since when did “whore” become a compliment or an aspiration?  Right?

Though I understand the people who disagreed with his choice of words, I have to say I disagree with it.  This is a relationship between a man and HIS woman; a woman and HER man.  Who the HELL are outsiders to tell them what is and is not appropriate in their relationship?  Who died and made anyone else’s opinion relevant to their thing?  If this young lady wasn’t offended, because the word isn’t a negative one within the bonds of her engagement, I think everyone else should just get somewhere and SADDOWN!

I honestly think he was telling her, “Baby, all I need, I’ve found in you.  You are just ALL the woman I need.  For a home-cooked meal and clean house, I can come home to you.  For all the low-down, gutter-butt, freak nasty pornographic fantasies I want fulfilled in the bedroom that I can’t share with anyone else, I know you got me.  There is no other woman I want to bear my seed.  You are EVERY woman to me!”

I think the young man exercised maturity and had the balls to freely say what he loves about her in the most vulnerable and uncensored way.  What’s wrong with that?  If more people had the type of relationship where they were safe and free to say exactly what they felt, HOW they felt it without the threat or fear of judgement, we just may have a better society.  The world needs this type of honesty.  Furthermore, what’s wrong with having a wife (or partner) who is so sexually uninhibited they satisfy every little sexual fetish you have?  What’s wrong with that?

The way I see it, the women who were going in on this young lady were jealous.  They weren’t empowered women at all. They were bitter, insecure, hurt and angry women who probably are in need of a 15-minute toe curling, body-rocking orgasm their damn selves!  When you violently berate others because they don’t agree with your point of view, or don’t know the whole story, that’s not empowerment boo boo, you really need to get off your high horse and live a little.  Maybe if you weren’t so uptight, and were free enough to be someone’s personal whore, you might be getting wifed up to.

Advertisements

Who is Left to Love the Black Woman?

“All the good black men are either dead, married, gay, in jail or waiting to be born,” is something I heard a young lady say in a bible study once.  We were discussing the possibility of some of us in the class never getting married.  Before making this statement, she told the pastor he needed to come up with some programs so some of the women in the class could have the hope of getting married.  She then went on to give a dramatic speech called “Who Is Left to Love the Black Woman?”

I was very offended.  And the whole time she was giving her lil’ speech, I was lookin’ at Mz. Lady like she’d bumped her head.  After her speech, the pastor asked if any of the men in the class would like to respond.  So, you KNOW I raised my hand right?  And the pastor just shook his head, because he KNEW what was coming.

I stood up in front of the class, cleared my throat, and said, “I don’t think the problem here is ‘who’s left to love the black woman, but rather who is qualified!”  I also told Mz. Lady that she owed every man in the class an apology because ALL OF US in the class thought of ourselves as good men.

These days, what IS a good man?  Everyone has their own idea of what makes a man “good,” so it’s difficult to set a concrete definition.  When asked that question, most of the single men I know say they consider themselves good men.

So, if so many people (straight women and gay men) are looking for ‘good men’, why are so many presumed good men single?  Maybe the people who say they are looking for a good man, aren’t  really looking for a good man at all.  Most are seeking out “good-looking men” and are disappointed when they find that those who they think are good-looking often lack the characteristics they say they want in a man.  The truth is, most will totally overlook a man of character if he doesn’t personify what society says is beautiful or successful.  Even if the man is only trying to be a friend, he still faces rejection based on his looks.

My late Big Mama used to say, “baby, you don’t throw away a diamond because it’s given to you in a paper bag, and not a velvet box….a diamond is still a diamond no matter what it may be wrapped in.”  Big Mama knew that a good man couldn’t be measured or judged by what he has or how he looks.  A good man can only be judged by his character.  Now I’m not naïve to the fact that what we see gets our attention.  But it seems that what we see is the most important thing.  We value things that are temporal.  Good looks fade or can be destroyed.  Money and material things are fleeting and can be taken away.  But a strong and noble character is something that is invaluable and will stand the test of time.

So to all those women and men, who say they’re looking for a good man, remember that a good man (a diamond) is still a good man (a diamond) regardless of how he may be wrapped.  Think about it, that man of character that you’ve overlooked because you’re “just not attracted to him” may be the friend or partner you’ve been looking for all along.  Learn how to see people with more than just your eyes.  Maybe the problem is not a shortage of eligible candidates, but your inability to recognize a good man when you see him.

 

Tuan N’Gai is Co-Founder of the Operation: REBIRTH Movement.  He’s the author of “Will I Go To Heaven? The Black Gay Spiritual Dilemma,” “Little Brown Boy’s Blues,” and a contributor to the New York Times Best Seller, “It Gets Better: Coming Out, Overcoming Bullying, and Creating a Life Worth Living.” He lives in Chicago, Illinois.


Childish Things

When I was a child I spoke as a child, understood as a child, I thought as a child.  But when I became a man, I put away childish things.  Sometimes I wonder if putting away those things was the wisest thing to do, realizing now as a man, that the foundation on which I stand was laid for me when I was a child.  Sometimes I think if maybe I put away the wrong things, because as I grew, the adult things I now hold on to like excess baggage only make me wish for the childish things that I hid in the name of growing up.  If I only knew now, what I knew then, things would be much different.

When I was a child I spoke as a child.  I spoke from my heart.  I said what was on my mind.  The words that came out of my mouth were honest, because I was taught to always tell the truth.  I was encouraged to always ask questions, especially if there was something I didn’t understand.  But when the questions got too hard for grown folks to answer, or they thought the answer was something a child couldn’t handle, I was in trouble for having a smart mouth.  So I learned how to keep it shut.   And from fear of getting in trouble, I learned how to lie.  Speaking the truth and pursuing questions was a childish thing that when I became a man, I put it away.

When I was a child I understood as a child.  I understood from an early age that when I went to school I was different.  I enjoyed being different.  While other kids had long stringy hair, my lil afro was tight.  The skin given to me by Divinity was just as beautiful. I understood that I was just as intelligent and talented as everyone else. I understood that I was genuine and unique, and my uniqueness made me special.  I was proud and unashamed.  I also understood all too well why other little boys didn’t want to play with me.  I understood that being called a sissy wasn’t a good thing, so maybe my being so unique was God’s mistake.  So I put away all that pride, and learned how to hide myself.  I learned how to be what people wanted so they could be comfortable around me.  I understood very young that if I was to survive, my uniqueness had to be a secret.  Being proud of who I naturally am was a childish thing.  When I became a man I put it away.

When I was a child I thought as a I child.  I thought I could change the world.  Whether by non-violence like Bayard Rustin, Martin Luther King or Ghandi.  Or like Malcolm X,  by any means necessary.    I thought I could make a difference.  I could be the First Black President, but Barak Obama beat me to it.  “Happily ever after” was mine I believed.  I don’t know when I stopped believing that.  Somewhere along the way I did, but after hard times, disappointments, and having my heart broken repeatedly, I learned that putting away this childish thing could be the death of me.   I couldn’t think what everyone else thought of me.  I’d have to guard my thoughts like I’m guarding my most valuable possessions, because my thoughts keep hope alive in me.  My thoughts make me who i’m supposed to be.  As a man thinks, so is he.

I shouldn’t have put away dreaming big dreams.  Now I fight to hold on to thinking good things.  I now know that love of God, self and others is something I should constantly build on instead of putting it away.

Now that I’m a man, I speak as a man.  I understand as a man.  I think as a man. The childish things were not to be put away, because they are the foundation on which my life I was meant to build.  Those childish things are what make me the strong man that I am.