You Said What?

When I was about eight or nine years old, some family friends visited us. The son was a few years older than I – he might have about 12 or 13. We were playing, and then he asked me to go into the bathroom so we could play some more. When we got there, he proceeded to pull down his pants and attempted to get his penis into my vagina. I was totally confused about what was happening, and more than a little scared.

We heard my mom calling for us, and he told me that he would go out of the bathroom first and then I should follow after and pretend as if nothing happened. I did.

I didn’t tell my mom. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell anyone until I told Vaughn. I can’t remember if we were married or not at the time I told him, but I would have been about 27 or 28 at the time.

Hair Woes

You can find some really stupid advice on the internet.  Lol.  I sweat in my head when I run.  Profusely.   My hair can be soaked when I’m done – especially after long runs, and especially now that it’s summer and hot.  Why is this a problem?  I have a relaxer in my hair.  To keep it healthy, I minimize the heat that I put in it – this includes blow dryers and curling irons.  This doesn’t work out so well if I’m running four times a week, and have to leave my house before noon for work.  Lol.  

Ladies – Help Me Out. Why Are You Marching?

Image courtesy Women’s March on Washington official Eventbrite page

I haven’t blogged in ages, and I feel as though this particular blog could make me lose my women’s card (lol).  I need someone to explain to me the purpose of Saturday’s Women’s March on Washington.

 

I just visited the March’s Eventbrite page, looking for a plan; I was disappointed.  There is no set of steps to be taken AFTER the march.  So we march.  Then what?

I am probably being a little cynical (ok, maybe a lot), but I feel as though “marching” has become the latest “in” thing.  Don’t get me wrong.  Marching is great.  It brings attention to the cause.

But we can’t just march.

Change required sitting in at lunch counters.  It required moving from the back of the bus to the front.  It required desegregation of white schools.  It required doing something.

Are we going to elect more women to Congress?  (You do know that only 20% of our congress is made up of women, right?  Perhaps if there were more women in power, they might pass more laws that benefit women?)

Are we going to watch Jeff Sessions like a hawk to ensure the Justice Department protects women and minorities in our country?  Are we going to call our elected officials and let them know what it is we want them to do?

Are we going to teach our girls to love themselves and to stop the stupid competitiveness we women always seem to have amongst ourselves?

Or are we just going to march?

Ain’t I A Woman?

Men can grope me, make lewd comments about me, rape me, harass me in the workplace – and I am accused of waiting too long to report it, or over-reacting, or lying, or even worse – wanting it.

Men can hit me, maim me, even kill me – because I choose not to accept their advances, because I am married to them, simply because I exist – and the rest of the world looks the other way.

Be Good to Megan

image from farm8.staticflickr.com

So of course I had no idea that Megan Goode was embroiled at the center of a modesty scandal.  For the most part – I pay celebrities no mind.  They don’t mind me either, so I think it’s fair.  🙂  My cousins, as they usually do, have enlightened me.  I only have 250 words, so here’s what I’ll say on the subject.

It Takes An [Unknown] Village

Image from my iPhone

Would you go to a baby shower where you didn’t know the baby’s mom or dad?  Would you purchase a gift and play the silly baby shower games like “Guess the mommy’s tummy size in toilet paper squares” for a woman you’d never met?

About three weeks ago, I received an Evite to a baby shower, but the name of the mom being showered was completely unfamiliar to me.  Curious, I opened it – because it came from a friend – and read the following (I’ve paraphrased):

Take That, Life!

http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/User:Malene

Tonight I was blithely going about my business – helping the boys with homework, fielding random phone calls, thinking about what I would blog about this evening, wishing for this 10-day smoothie detox to be OVER (we’ll blog about that later in the week) – when a friend sent me a text.  It was serious, so I texted her back and she started sharing the details.  When she was finished, I literally had to sit down.

Just last week, she and I were happily joking about the things going on in our lives, and today it’s like – bam!  Those things seem so inconsequential now.

I Am Not My Hair

from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Am_Not_My_Hair

I am reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah and am loving it. However, I just got annoyed. (Small spoiler here, but won’t ruin the book).

Ifemela has just cut off her hair because her friend advised her to get rid of her relaxer. Ifem isn’t quite sure that she likes her new boy-cut Afro, and so her friend sends her to happilykinkynappy.com* where she can find a supportive community of women who are doing natural hair. This would be wonderful, EXCEPT for the fact that these women are deriding other women who have chosen to keep their hair relaxed.

What??? This is the thing that BUGS me about women. We must ALWAYS be fighting amongst ourselves.