Letter Opener. Also doubles as a scalp scratcher when your stylist uses beeswax and spritz in your hair for a braid. All she needed was some gel. Ain’t nobody got time for this itch!!! I took it down and pinned it back up…I can’t wait to wash this. Actually I’m praying my grandmother does this evening. 🙏
I Have a Fear of Being Cheated On…(Dun, Dun, Duuuuuuun…)
I know, I know…you can’t place your faith in variables. A friend of mine has constantly told me this and said it could be the downfall to my relationship. However, before you raise eyebrows, this has nothing to do with my current relationship. We do not have a past or a present issue with cheating.
My mother cheated on my father when they were married fifty-leven years ago. None of it affected me until I became an adult because I could process everything that I couldn’t at seven years old. I was present during the whole breakup (not when she was caught but my father told me the story when I became an adult) and I remember every single argument, equipped with slammed doors and tears. I remember my father crying in my arms- his seven year old baby girl’s arms- to never leave him. I still cringe at the thought of it.
To make everything clear, I had to remove judgement from my mother and know that she was not the only person at fault in the entire ordeal. As far as I’m concerned, none of that concerned me and had nothing to do with me so to reach that far back and point fingers is useless.
As an almost thirty year-old woman now, I am responsible for how I process the past and how it shapes, molds and affects my present and future. And I can honestly say it has caused problems within myself. Not only that, but nowadays respect for self and others is a pastime fairy tale in our society. Reckless and ratchet behavior is celebrated and embraced in 2013 and it’s a constant struggle to uphold a standard. I was once a young, reckless individual without regard for another’s feeling so again, I’m not judging. The shame comes in keeping my guard high and my shell hard- always worrying about someone snatching my small piece of sunshine- instead of allowing life to unfold and enjoy the ride.
A former coworker told me a while back as candidly as she could with her forty plus year-old wisdom (and a gelled up high ponytail with pump waves but I digress), rolling her neck and popping her lips to match, “I ain’t never worried about the next bitch. I always look at myself as the last bitch and if he is too stupid to see that then bye!” She had a point…in all her ratchetness (lol). If someone is able to snatch up my sunshine then I never owned it in the first place. Instead of looking at this as a bad thing, I should celebrate dodging a bullet and stay open and available to love the next one. It’s just that simple.
I don’t have time to be worried about whether or not a grown man is behaving like one. If he isn’t? Bad call on my end (two fingers, pimp)! And I really shouldn’t care for the ‘what ifs’ with simple women who are so deprived of self-worth they look for it by collecting trophies of other women’s partners. Life is too damn short for that mess.