The Truth: Ain't a Ceiling

You say life's been hard on you
Well brother I got news
It's hard on me too

We seem to face the same old issues
Some are just surface
Some deeper in the tissue

I know slavery has paid its part
Word...
Being separated
And subjugated
And that passes to the brain of our child
So I want to step off what was
And start with right now

You say the world just don't understand
But I aint the world, my love
I'm your woman

And I know how deep it really goes
Trying to tread on a dream
When the water feels low

And ooooh, if our ancestors can walk
Barefoot afraid in the dark
For miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles
I know we can do this
Come on lets start

I wanna be real with you
I wanna get healed with you
I wanna grow up with you

I wanna be more for you
Be whats in store for you
Open the doors with you

To a truer healing
Can you imagine the feeling
The sky ain't a ceiling
At all

Form Your Sentences in Straight Lines...Not circles...

I'm blogging again, lol...Not too much else needs to be said about that. Moving on...

Anyone who blogs, can tell you that the themes of the blog are generally centered around things that irk the spit out of the blogger. I like to mix it up a bit, with encouragement, funny stories, current events, etc. However, I have opted to be ordinary today, and talk about something that is burning me a little bit, and in an effort not to physically hurt someone, blog about it. I'm sure everyone remembers the Dave Chappelle skit about the Habitual Linestepper. Many of us have encountered such people, and call many of them friends. The girl in your crew that always seems to get caught in the bathroom with someone's boyfriend at a party; the friend that no matter how many times you mark the point of no return in their night of drinking, still can't seem to stay two drinks away from that mark; the friend that walks in your house, goes directly to your fridge and turns your milk carton up to their mouth, empties it, and then puts it back in; or even the relative that calls at 7am Saturday morning, asks if you're asleep, and immediately starts talking about nonsense (isn't everything nonsense at 7am on Saturday morning?). While all of these would easily serve as a comical blog entry, I'd like to identify a subsector of the Habitual Linesteppers; a group that can easily be missed if you don't pay attention...The Habitual Circle Talker.

I got the idea for this blog from events that have been unfolding in my life over the past few weeks. It all came to a head yesterday, when my BFF and I were watching Ellen, and she was interviewing one of the contestants for the upcoming Miss California Pageant. Ellen asked the girl how she planned to win the pageant. The girl started her answer by saying, "It's such an honor to even participate in the Miss California Pageant...it's been a dream of mine since I was a very young girl. It's so important to consider...blah blah blah". Ok, *is this thing on?* Did you even hear the question? The reason I inserted the blah's is because that's the only part of her answer I remember...I stopped listening, and only paid attention to the show again, when Jam said, "She didn't answer the question!". Excuse me, Little Miss "I want to be Miss California", you're a Habitual Circle Talker.

One person in particular, with whom I've been forced to communicate on a regular basis, has mastered this art. Should write a book really. For a while, I hadn't actually been paying attention to anything she said, so it didn't really matter. She'd send a painfully long email or text message, or go on and on in a phone conversation, and you know how, you'll throw filler questions out to people just so they think you're into what they're saying? For the longest, this is how my interaction with this person has gone. Only recently, have I been interested, or invested in what comes spewing out of the whole in her face, and am now becoming increasingly fed up with the lack of respect for my intelligence. Because when it all comes down to it, that's what it really is, right? These people have mastered the art of talking in a circle to disguise the fact that they don't really have anything of substance to say. They've done so much work in putting on the facade that would make them appear knowledgeable, or able to play this "part", but they're a fraud, which is why, when put in a position where questions have to be answered, or input is required, they resort to talking in a circle, and can only hope that 1. You're so dumb that you buy it, 2. You aren't really paying attention anyway, 3. They talked in SUCH a circle that you can't remember what they're even talking about, or 3. By some divine intervention, you're able to put the foolishness together in a way that remotely makes sense, or at least ponder it long enough to give them time to come up with a better story.

I think the part that burns me up the most, is that the easiest way to disguise the fact that you don't have anything of substance to say, is just to shut up. It's a novel idea...almost so simple that it HAS to work. It's almost amusing to watch a habitual circle talker at work. At some point during the conversation (I use this term loosely, as most cases are just one sided, because no intelligent person can participate in an actual conversation with a circle talker without exposing them) you can almost see their eyes glaze over, and a look come across their face that says "I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I was way too deep in this conversation by the time I realized it, and can't back out now."

Everyone is guilty of talking in a circle at least on occasion. Most times it happens like this...you start a normal conversation, and realize that you aren't being well received at all, or you're being misunderstood, and instead of just shutting up and regrouping, you kind of take a roundabout route to get back on track. That whole time you were trying to get back on track...you were talking in a circle, and I promise, you'll be hard pressed to remember anything you said on that detour. Don't feel bad, it's normal...we all do it...I did it the other day. This, a habitual circle talker, does not make.

It's easy to identify habitual circle talkers, and even easier to expose them, once identified. Anyone, colleague, friend, classmate, whoever, that is incapable of sending a two line email, is almost always a habitual circle talker. The person who can't ever seem to get their thoughts in the 160 characters allotted for text messages, is probably a habitual circle talker. The person that never answers a yes or no question with a yes or no...habitual circle talker. The person that always says things like, "so much is going on", or "the response has been crazy", or "I'm working on a ton of stuff", or anything general like that, but can never provide a list of tasks embarked upon, with the result of each...is probably a habitual circle talker, and probably doesn't really have too much of anything going on. If you aren't amused in the least by this post, YOU are a habitual circle talker, and for the love of God, and the fear of being exposed as a fraud, please shut up until you have something to say that someone wants to hear.

Why now?!

I'm going to start off by saying that a lot of people are going to be utterly pissed off by what I'm getting ready to write here, but I must say that I've held my tongue, with no intentions on saying anything at all, out of respect for the departed and the bereaved. However, I think the hypocrisy that has reached a startling high, has given me the extra push needed to write a little something down.

I would also like to add a disclaimer to this post, stating that, I have been an avid follower and fan of Michael Jackson, for as long as I can remember. I remember huddling into my parents bedroom on Monday nights when a new video was being released; and begging for a Michael Jackson "Ken" doll; and my uncle buying me a red leather jacket like Michael's (even though it was for boys), after I screamed and cried and promised never to ask for another thing as long as I LIVE; actually crying and feeling just a little faint when he walked out onto the stage at the Capital Center; and watching Thriller over and over again through the holes in my godmother's afghan, until I was too excited about knowing all the dance moves to be afraid anymore; and of course, watching Moonwalker several times EVERday, until my tape popped, then, learning the art of "fixing" popped VHS tapes (this was my first experience with a screwdriver), and remembering exactly where the tape skipped over the scotch tape...somewhere right around Smooth Criminal. So please, don't mistake my intentions here.

We all saw the disastrous BET awards last night. I think we can all agree that it was a mess, although there were some mildly entertaining parts. Truthfully, what made the show such a disaster was the effort made to honor Michael. One has to know, BET spends the entire year, or a good portion of it, preparing for the annual awards show. They were asked, this year, 72 hours before the show was scheduled to air, to change EVERYTHING, and make the show about Michael. Of course, they immediately swung into motion calling on folks who were guaranteed to be free, like New Edition including Bobby Brown, to add a little spice to the tribute. I feel they would've done better to get Day 26 to do the opening tribute, they certainly would've moved a little freer than the Senior Citizens that were New Edition, but I guess the "has beens" fit a little bit better into the budget than the newbies...or maybe they just thought they were going to get points for nostalgia from generation X'ers, but it really just turned out be an embarrassment (Bobby Brown in a mohawk...please).

While I could go on and on, the BET show isn't the purpose of this post, it was just the responses to the show and the alleged disgrace of Mike's memory that has made me a little hot. I'm constantly hearing people suggest the show should've been more substantive, that there should be more thought and care put into the tributes, and memorials. And my question to all of you that feel this way is, "Why now?" Everyday you're, swaggin' and surfin'; never leaving the house without FIRST turning your swag on; wishing you could f*ck every girl in the world; begging to be somebody's boyfriend #2; all while feeding on a healthy diet of cookies and applejuice...again, I could go on, but you get the picture. All of a sudden, people who have lived their lives with little to no purpose, are actually requiring something of substance out of this world. How dare you?! How dare you, all of a sudden decide to care about something other than yourself, and have the gaul to post articles on facebook, change your profile picture, and post youtube clip after youtube clip, and expect anyone to do anything but roll their eyes (as I've found myself doing almost simultaneously as my facebook page loads every morning).

Exactly what did we expect last night? Did you expect for a show that is already a borderline coonfest, to completely switch up production after months of preparation and put together, in 72 hours, a show worthy to be called a tribute to Michael Jackson? Someone, please tell me what you would've done? I know there's no way that BET stood a chance of ever coming close to the vigils you each have on your myspace and facebook pages, but just for arguments sake, what did you expect? You can't spend your life concerned only about yourself, and how the actions of others will effect you alone, and expect anyone to take you seriously when you finally find a cause you consider to be worthy. And what is that cause really? Micahel Jackson? Are you fighting for the cause of Michael Jackson? Or have you found something else that will draw more attention to you? Just another reason to post something and start a string of comments on your status message? Out of all of the posts that I've seen (and there have been hundreds), not one has said anything about carrying on, or attempting to carry on the legacy that Michael Jackson left behind in his philanthropic work. The comments range from those that have crawled out from under their rock of indifference concerning anyone but themselves and posted a tribute, to those suggesting that their should be no tribute, and citing his child molestation allegations, and all around suspect behavior over the past decade, as reasons for oversight. But not one person said anything about the philanthropy. Many people forget that he was the one that made it "cool" to be a celebrity who gives back. Thus, one might venture to say, he was the only one to do it without any altertior motives. Once again, in all of our conceit and self-indulgence, we have missed the mark. So change your profile pic, already...and get back to what you know best...you.

I'm just playin'...but seriously...

I'm just feeling a little goofy today, so forgive me. This one probably won't be that long, and I can almost promise it won't be insightful, but it should make you chuckle. Soooo...I've come across quite a few delusional people as of late. And I'd like to talk about that today. I always wonder, when people make things up about themselves, what has to be going through they're mind when they tell these "stories" in the presence of people who really know the truth. For example a man with a small penis should never...and I mean never...engage in a conversation about sex...ESPECIALLY, when there's a woman in the room that knows what he isn't working with. Now, we all know that you can gauge a man's sexual prowess against how much he brags about it, and in most cases it's an opposite correlation. However, as adults, we engage in intelligent conversations about sex. Nothing in the realm of "Oh I put it DOWN", but a healthy exchange of opinions, feelings, tips, etc. Have you ever been in one of these conversations with a dude that you KNOW can't do ANYTHING, let alone the things that he's leading the other unassuming participants in the conversation to believe. And you kinda sit there with a blank stare like, there's no way I can be a party to this foolishness. You lose all interest in the conversation, because it has become a joke. Just a small tangent here...how do you tell the little man that he's little? I mean seriously, how do you tell a man that you broke up with him because his penis looks like a finger...not your finger, sir...MY finger! Don't get me started. Back to the topic at hand...

Delusional people. Facebook is the hottest thing in life right now. And of course, we all know every detail of everyone's life as a result of facebook...Im nosy as hell, so I'm in heaven. But I've been noticing a lot of people attaching comments to their pics that make absolutely no sense. I was on an old associate's page today, and he had a pic up of him and his daughter. The caption said, "my twin"...huh?! You're light, she's dark...you're fat as hell, she's petite...she has almond shaped eyes, I can't remember anything about your eyes, so they can't be that special....this is not your twin...unless of course you look nothing like your father, and then you would be twins in that respect, but clearly not in the traditional sense.

One of my favorite delusional people is the non singer. By this I don't mean, the person that just isn't a singer, can hold a note, but just isn't a SANGA. No, I'm talking about the folks that DO sing, but can't. The best way to describe it I think, is this....You know how you kinda feel indifferent about some people. Like, you don't dislike them, you don't particularly like them, you just don't have a feeling about them either way...they haven't done anything to you, or anything like that, they just aren't your cup of tea. That's the person that can hold a note, but knows they aren't a singer, so they don't push it. Now think about somebody that jumps up and down on your last nerve, whenever you're around them...that's how I feel about the true non-singers. OMG, WHY are you singing...and loudly?! It makes my skin crawl...and I wonder...how is it that you've gotten to this age and no one has told you how horrible you sound?! I blame the parents of these people. More parents should be like my girl, Belle's, dad. She stood in up front of him as a child and belted out "The Greatest Love of All", but didn't get through the whole thing because her father said, "Oh no, what are you doing? You can't sing! But you know what you can do? You can read. Now why don't you go on in the other room and do that?". Even though her heart may have been a little broken, she went in the room and read....read her way right through college, grad school, and into a very successful career.

Finally, I would like to talk about adult runners. Not people that run for recreation or exercise. I'm talking about adults that run to catch trains, buses, planes, or the adult that is running for no aparent reason. I can more understand running for a plane or an amtrak train...missing it may cost money, and they don't come as frequently. But I'll be son of a gun if you catch me RUNNING for a metro train, when another one is five minutes behind it. But let's stay on track here. We're talking about people with a skewed senses of reality. If you are standing at the light on Minnesota Ave and you see your train pull into the station across the street, it is totally irrational to think you are going to make it across the street, down the escalator, through the gate, and back UP the escalator to the platform...so why are you running? I won't even run up the escalator if I hear the train pulling into the station and I'm at the bottom of the escalator to the platform...another one will be there in FOUR MINUTES! The flip side to this, and maybe even more hilarious are the people that get to the fare card machines and see that the train will be there in 7 minutes, and they make a MAD DASH for the platform, and when you take your time down the escalator, you see them standing there, out of breath and sweating, catching the EXACT same train you just strolled onto.

In closing, let's try to stay as close to reality as possible people. Let's be reasonable...stop running for no reason...stop lying on people...or yourself to make you look better. If you miss the train, there's another one coming...don't freak out. If you have a little dick, be nice. This is not rocket science...

What's Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander....

One of the reasons this blog is so easy to write, is that I run my mouth quite a bit. Not in the traditional sense, but I love to get with a group of friends and yak it up...about any and everything. A conversation that continues to emerge, as of late, concerns men (of course), and their increasing inability to have a "no strings attached", physical relationship. This is in no way to imply that women have the blueprint on this, because CLEARLY, women have been trippin' over FB's for YEARS.

The point in a woman's life when she finally embraces the notion that you don't have to see your future husband in every man with whom you enter a physical relationship, is an utterly freeing experience. Further, you realize there are some people you just want to screw, (and why shouldn't you, you beautiful, liberated, sexual butterfly!!). (DISCLAIMER: This is not condoning "rolling" or "whoreism", a lady knows when to say when, lol...seriously.) You don't care what happens in his life when you all aren't together. You don't care about his job, dreams, family, or his life. And you expect him to feel the same way concerning you. Why should you have to bore yourself to tears, sharing meals with, and exchanging mindless text messages, and phone conversations when all you want to do is screw?

I've attempted this kind of thing a few times, and much to my dismay, it blew up in my face, lol. I was in a different kind of place, emotionally. I'd been out of a serious relationship for about five months, I knew that I wasn't totally ready to get back into another one, but I also wasn't interested in continuing along my "I don't think I'll ever let anyone touch me again" rant either (we can be so dramatic when our hearts have been broken). So, I embarked on my journey to find an FB. There was no one I'd been with in the past that was appealing AND available, so it was time for someone new. I chose him, and was all too pleased to find out that he favored discretion and had no desire to do anything but "have some fun". So we did, for a while, and then he realized just how serious I was about just having fun, and even more so, the discretion. So he began to trip because, "you don't acknowledge me when we're in public", or "how could you bring another dude here", or "why don't you ever call me just to say hi?". HUH?!!! Needless to say, I ended that quick and easy...

The real problem here was that he started to act like a girl...I am not now, nor have I ever even considered lesbianism. I think girls are gross, I have no desire to talk to one, touch one, or spend any real time with any, other than those that have already gone through the vetting process required to be considered one of my girlfriends. I hate girls so much, sometimes I even disgust myself (not really, but I want to make sure you get the point). So even the SLIGHTEST hint of female tendencies in a man, makes me feel like I'm being forced into lesbianism...I mean seriously, what's the next step after dating a "girly" boy? Blatant lesbianism...

The main thing I love about real men, is that they aren't girls. I'm a girl. I cry; I get super pissed over really dumb stuff; and then cry again; I'm moody; I'm jealous; I have all kinds of irrational fears; I'm late for EVERYTHING; I'm stubborn; it takes me FOREVER to get dressed; I can be a nag; I could go on for weeks, but I won't. I think you get the jist. Being with a real man, neutralizes this craziness. Now, when you start acting like a girl, it forces me to infuse some testosterone in the relationship and start acting like a man. And now the natural order of things is all screwed up.

So, back to the question at hand...why can't some guys (more than you think), handle it when a woman just wants to keep things very casual? And why is the woman that is cool with something like this, considered heartless, cold blooded, or (depending upon who's telling the story) a whore? Anytime I've tried to have an FB, the most important part for me has been to keep it a secret. Why? Because, a woman that only wants to screw you is a slut, that's why (not to mention, in most cases, these aren't my kind of people). The world can't seem to grasp the idea that all women don't see a future with every man with whom she's involved. She would be psycho to even consider it. Why is it ok for a man to want to "just kick it", but it's not ok for a woman to want the same thing. So essentially we all fall into one of three categories..."desperate and delusional", "happy and attached" (every warm blooded woman's ultimate goal, right? lol), or "Whore-slut-bitch-freak-heartbreaker". Pick your teams ladies...t-shirt orders are due by close of business friday ;)

What's the point?

Let's talk about commitment. What does commitment mean? It's defined as; an act of committing to a charge or trust; something pledged; the state or an instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled. It's also a word that will send some people to cloud 9, and send others to the emergency room with an allergic reaction. As a youngster, the assignment of a "title" in a relationship is the ultimate show of commitment. It means I'm your girl, and you're my man, and we are committed to be together forever, right? No. What it really means, is that you can't be with anyone else but me. And if you do, it gives me the right to go all the way off. So, to this effect commitment has become a license to assign fault. Afterall, if we don't "go together" technically, I can do whatever I want, right? Technically...yes. But we know that doesn't always pan out like that.

I remember being in a "relationship" with a guy in undergrad, and like every other boy in college, he wasn't ready to commit to anything but carte blanche on the booty. I was a little bit smarter than him, though ;), I told him, "look, you don't have to make me your girl, but I'm not going to continue to sleep with you, if you start sleeping with someone else, so if you do, just let me know. We can still be cool, but the physical part of our relationship will be over" (like I was ever in danger of this level of honesty). With this statement, and his acquiescence to it, I was afforded the advantages of "commitment", without him even knowing it. Basically, if you don't tell me you slept with someone else, I have the right to be upset because you agreed to tell me if you did. The push for commitment in this situation, is an attempt to keep you from being with anyone else. But the reality is, someone can call you their girl, and make a "commitment" to you, but there's no way in the world you can control their actions.

I was talking to my Evelyn yesterday about a similar topic and this is what we came up with. Guys aren't really concerned with how you feel about anyone but them. They don't really care how you feel about your ex, or that nigga you work with, or even your current boyfriend (if that's your situation). Not women. We want to know how you feel about your momma and your sisters (aunts and cousins too), any past girlfriends (whether you still see them or not), all the women at work, all your female friends and their friends too, and any other woman you may or may not come in contact with that can take you away from me. Is this not the most ridiculous and psycho thing you've ever heard in your life?! Who has the time or energy to keep up with this? I got tired just generating the list!

As stated previously, you can't control someone actions nor their feelings. Commitment isn't the chain by which you keep me from being with anyone else. However, unfortunately that's how it's used in most cases.

So, the question becomes, as an intelligent, feeling, and aware adult, why would one push for commitment under these circumstances. I mean honestly, if a commitment is no guarantee that you won't just do whatever you want to do anyway, why want it, why ask for it, why have it? It's like a car with airbags on the spec list, but when you get in a crash, none come out.

Here's the answer: You don't commit (or ask for commitment) to keep your mate from being with someone else. You commit because YOU don't want to be with anyone else. The only actions in the world you can control, are your own. At the point that you realize, you don't want to be with anyone else, you've already committed. And the same way no one can change your actions against commitment, no one can change them FOR it either.

Chains

I read a lot of books, I listen to a lot of music, I write a lot of stuff, and sing a lot. I've been blessed to be given beautiful prose and lyrics...to write a song or a poem, or hear/read something that speaks to me or my situation, or that of someone else. But it's rare that I share it...I keep it to myself, for all kinds of reasons. The writing is freeing, so I do it for me, and not other people, so I keep it. If I hear something profound, I keep it...for me. But I came to realize, this morning as I was on the train, that the blessing of composition whether it be words or sounds...has been given to me so that I might share it with someone that needs it.

Something happened in my life yesterday that was earth shattering, and has already proven to be life changing, for myself and many others. And there was something that was given to me a while ago, that if I'd shared it, may have given some hope in a seemingly hopeless situation. Have you ever heard a song, or read a poem that expressed exactly how you felt? A poem or a song can't fix a problem...but going through something and not having the ability to express it can be just as confining as the problem itself. This is what I would've shared...

Chains...that try to bind me
Chains...that won't let me go
Chains...they keep me from trying
Chains...please loose your strong hold
Chains...though I try to surrender
Chains...yet I still remember....
Whom the son sets free, is truly free indeed
Lord, please free me from these chains.

Chains...I'm a heart full of sorrow
Chains...I won't sleep well tonight because of these
Chains...How I long for tomorrow...
Because today, there are no tears left to cry...
Chains....Though it feels cold like winter
Chains...I will fight to remember...
That by your stripes, I'm healed....
To your heart, Lord, I appeal
Please free me from these chains...

of abuse
suicide
pain from my past,
that robs my peace of mind
chains of divorce
addiction and fear
being afraid to die
and afraid to live
chains of depression
(haven't laughed in a while)
restore my joy
and give me back my smile
I do love you, Jesus
(but not like I should)
I love you, Father
(but not like I could)
have mercy on me
I can't go on this way
save me, I'm lost
help me believe what you say
"This is just a test, though it's hard to see"
I surrender...you win
so now I ask you...

Please, free me from these chains....

I've decided that I'm going to share what's been given to me. Whether I'm given the words directly, or they come from someone else. Keeping with the thinking that everything happens for a reason, I don't believe that God gives me profound things to say for my benefit alone. Neither does he put me in the path to hear such things and not share them. So this is the first (well not the first, I kinda did this Tuesday too) of many entries that will very simply be me sharing words or art. I hope they serve a purpose in someone's life...

~MyMy
R.I.P Troy Vallenta

I want you to...

SEDUCE ME
write me a poem
tell me about the scent of musk at the nape of my neck
that you dream of spending sultry summer days between
my breasts
that if you could taste me
it would be mangoes and tropical breezes on your tongue
keeping you up at 2am
for weeks
staring at black ceilings
legs entwined in sheets
wiping your brow
wondering when the next will be
seduce me
write me a poem
drop those weak pick up lines
and overwhelm me with quotes from Nerudas 100 love sonnets
tell me i walk in beauty like the night
trace the lines in the palm of my left hand
decipher
then read and whisper their meaning to me
tell me my life line crosses your destiny
imprint your words on me like overnight scratchmarks
leave butterflies in my stomach
with honeysuckle syllables
that remind me of first kisses
and holding hands at recess
seduce me
write me a poem
that prays my name
and preaches our passion
chant a litany of our lovemaking to come
under your breath
with the faith of withered hands holding rosaries in cathedrals
until images of us entwined in each other
burn themselves inside our minds
like incense at mass
seduce me
write me a poem
with your eyes
lock glances for a moment
across a crowded room
soft smirk on full lips
and a slow deliberate blink followed by a flutter of
eyelashes
that says
damn I wish...
seduce me
write me a poem
with your body
approach me with the certainty of the tide
move to me without doubt or question
make me your origin
and your destination
let music be the catalyst that lets our bodies meet
spin me in an out of conga rhythms
lead me into a Coltrane wail
grind me into the bass-line
of between the sheets...
then pull me close enough
to feel our hearts beat together
when we dance
seduce me
write me a poem
that
that speaks of our timelessness
remind me it was you I loved in a past life
on some faraway continent
tell me I carry you in my genes
that I can't forget you if I tried
that our memories are engraved into eternity
that time is just a theory to us
seduce me
write me a poem
that needs no words
compose a silent sonnet on soft bare skin
where your caress on exposed back
speaks that syllable I need to hear you
a poem
where melding bodies become
the book
where shallow breathing becomes prose
where
you
seduce me
and
inspire me to write you the poem
that shows you how to love me

If I don't, who will?

I have a number of incomplete blogs that I will do my best to complete over the weekend. As a result of that, you will notice that there will blogs that appear in line before this one. It's just the way blogger does it, don't think you missed anything, lol. I just wanted to talk today (very briefly) about self-esteem and self worth.

Something that always bothers me is this comment, that on occasion comes up when people (haters) are talking about me. "Myra thinks she's the sh*t". I'll be honest, upon first hearing this, I want to rebut with, "No I don't!!!" This feeling is reminiscent of the feeling I used to get when I was younger and people (haters) would say things like "you think you cute because you have long hair" or, "you think you special because you can sing", or "you think you like that", and I would scream "No I don't!!!!". But the truth is, that's a lie. I do think I'm the sh*t. When I was younger, I thought I was cute because I had long hair, I thought I was special because I can sing, and I did (and still do) think I'm "like that". This is a concept that many people perceive as conceit, when in actuality it's a little something called self esteem. I can understand why there is so much confusion, as there is such an alarming lack of self esteem among women in general, especially in this area (never heard this from a man).

I think the reason the comments bother me so much is that 1. for a brief second I'm made to feel like I should apologize for being who I am; 2. I may have a strong sense of self worth, and very high self esteem, but I never...EVER make anyone feel like they are anything other than on my level. No matter who you're wearing, how beat your face it, the car you drive, your economic status, or even how you treat me...I do my best to treat everyone as the beautiful children of God that they are. Life deals people all different hands of cards, but we are all on the same playing field when it comes to our spirit and soul. And THAT'S what matters to me. Above all else, I can't ever remember saying "so and so thinks he's/she's the sh*t". Seriously, what am I supposed to think, that I'm "aight"...ABSOLUTELY NOT. I don't think it gets any hotter than me...and you should feel the same way about you.

You're saying two things when you make the comment "Myra thinks she's the sh*t", 1. That you don't think you are and 2. That you secretly think I am. So now I ask you, if not me...then who?! Don't punish me for loving myself when you hate you.