My Fear

My biggest fear just happens to be the thing I want most in the world. How do I go about getting that one thing when I can't get over my fear of it? how do I get over the fear when it has become the only thing I have to hold on to?

I have an inability to trust. How can I trust anyone else when everyone I have ever trusted has disappointed or betrayed me? How do I let go of all the bad when there is no good to take its place? How do I move on with positivity when the only way I know how to function is with the pain? The pain and the negativity have become a part of me; a part of who I am. I need it to survive. I don't know how to not have it in me or with me or around me. Where do I turn for a chance to move on? After a lifetime with it, it's all that I know. It's all that I am. It's all that I have been. I wish I knew how to survive without it. I need to know how to thrive even with it.

Letter to ignorance

Dear Ignorance,
I looked past it when a friend said it many moons ago. I look past it when a family member said it not so long ago. I looked past the way the wheels in strangers minds turn when they are wondering about it when I tell them that I have an honours degree in Women’s Studies. So why do I bother to write about it now? I’m tired of looking past it.
I dress comfortably and I’m somewhat of a tomboy. Yea that’s what happens when one grows up with 3 older brothers. I’m not into wearing purses especially when pockets will do. I do my make-up only when I feel like it. I don’t shave my legs until I want to. I don’t have a boyfriend because I don’t want one. I majored in Women’s Studies because finally I found something that relates to me and challenges my way of thinking. I have mostly women friends because they have become family. MY LIFE DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND MEN!!! Does that make me a lesbian??
What does calling me a lesbian actually get you? Is it your way of trying to scare me into conformity? Do you want me to adhere to some fucked up notion of what it means to be a woman? Does it matter that I don’t have a man to latch onto? What if I said I was a lesbian? Then what? Does it matter to you if I say I’m not? What is the problem here? Is my sexuality in question or do you not have enough things in your own life to worry about?
Would you rather me be by myself or have a fucking monster in my life that hits me, cheats on me, and treats me like shit? Well, you and I both know what you have chosen for yourself. And I have chosen what is right for me at this point in my life. Before you think of questioning my sexuality again, think about where your own has gotten you.
Has an entire social movement been lost on women like you who think that the presence or absence of a man defines any part of yourself? I refuse to answer any question you have about my sexuality because, frankly, it is none of your fucking business!!!
I leave you with this bit of advice that I have found very useful to me over the years. The late, great Bob Marley said “emancipate yourself from mental slavery...none but ourselves can free our mind.” I beg of you to rid your mind of ignorance and realize that there is a great big world out there if you choose to look past the men who are blocking your view.

What's left to be done?

As an immigrant woman of colour I am grateful for all the things that the North American civil rights and women's movements have allotted me. I take advantage of the opportunities to pursue without being discriminated against (at least not outright and to my face). I take advantage of my rights to vote. And very seldom do I actually think about how it got to the point that I can do those things. I walk into a university classroom and claim my seat for a semester without giving a second thought to the millions of men and women who did not have the rights much less the opportunities to do the same, not even a century ago. Nor do I consider the struggles of the countless women and men who demanded and fought for these opportunities that I and many others take advantage of.

The colour of my skin, the texture of my hair, the accent that suddenly comes back to me when I talk to a family member, they all serve as reminders of the non-human status that my people have held for hundreds of years...the reproductive organ that i have reminds me of the non-human status that my sex/gender have held for so many centuries. How do I separate those two identities? Sometimes I feel like I have to. But i can't. Those identities help make me who I am and i refuse to identify one as being more important than the other.

The point of all this is that there is still a long way to go before my race and my gender/sex are not the source of oppression, inequity and inequality in society...sometimes it feels like everything that could be done has already been done. What's there left for a young woman of colour who is just now finding her way into the field of social justice to do?

IS IT TOO LATE?

i give up

should it bother me this much??

Apparently because i have a sex-life outside of my own bedroom I'm a prostitute!!! WOW!!! what else can i say? i think that if i was called a "ho" or a slut i would not be as offended as i was. to me there would be less of a negative connotation (although some may argue that those mean the same as prostitute). OK maybe this person didn't exactly say the words "you're a prostitute" but when i asked the question "r u calling me a prostitute?" the response was "yea, it's the second time...because you go for your walks". Again i say WOW!!!

i will never claim to be the most tactful person. However i try to choose my words carefully especially with people i care about. sometimes if i recognize that i have said something to offend such a person i am quick to apologize.

i share things about myself with people who i believe won't judge me. apparent i have misjudged someone into that category.

i would like to put it out there that i am not a hooker or prostitute just because i would prefer to go to my sexual partner's house rather than have him come to mine. i resent the fact that this person felt that it was appropriate to refer to me as such.

unfortunately you will never be the same in my eyes. that level of trust that took so long to develop has vanished...oh well...just another disappointment i supposed. in all honesty i should be used to those by now.

Still i question whether this should bother me this much. regardless of whether it should or shouldn't the fact remains that it does.

Cigarettes and Me

I have held my ground with regards to my choice to smoke. My friends and family have been trying to get me to quit for a long time. The other day someone asked me how long I have been a smoker and I was embarrassed to realize that i have been smoking for 9 years...9 fucking years. Usually the question is "how old were you when you started smoking". That was usually an easy question to answer. I would simply say that i was 17 when i started. But having to actually think about how many years that actually is. DAMN!!! As much as I enjoy smoking and how much i have become dependent on it, I have made the decision to quit. Posting this here may not make sense when I say that this is a personal decision, it is a personal process. As much as I would appreciate support from everyone, it is my choice and my process. No judgments when I slip up (I know I will). Be patient with me when I become irritable. I ask and thank you all for your support.

Regrets

The other day I shared something with a friend that i had never shared before. it is not so much that i regret sharing with her is just that i regret that some big part of who i am is somewhere out there. what i shared is something that has definitely shaped me into who i am today. i regret the fact that i had not kept that part of me to myself. i regret that i can no longer be in denial about it. i regret that it is still so much a part of me that i am still thinking and now talking about it. i regret the fact that i am not alone in this.

questions

i question y i have this blog when really i have nothing worth saying...i don't really believe in anyhting and i don't really want to share my thoughts on what ever little knowledge i may actually have

Who You Calling a Bitch???

Uh, U.N.I.T.Y., U.N.I.T.Y. that's a unity
U.N.I.T.Y., love a black man from infinity to infinity
(Who you calling a bitch?)
U.N.I.T.Y., U.N.I.T.Y. that's a unity (You gotta let him know)
(You go, come on here we go)
U.N.I.T.Y., Love a black woman from (You got to let him know)
infinity to infinity (You ain't a bitch or a ho)
U.N.I.T.Y., U.N.I.T.Y. that's a unity (You gotta let him know)
(You go, come on here we go)
U.N.I.T.Y., Love a black man from (You got to let him know)
infinity to infinity (You ain't a bitch or a ho) Instinct leads me to another flow
Every time I hear a brother call a girl a bitch or a ho
Trying to make a sister feel low
You know all of that gots to go
Now everybody knows there's exceptions to this rule
Now don't be getting mad, when we playing, it's cool
But don't you be calling out my name
I bring wrath to those who disrespect me like a dame
That's why I'm talking, one day I was walking down the block
I had my cutoff shorts on right cause it was crazy hot
I walked past these dudes when they passed me
One of 'em felt my booty, he was nasty
I turned around red, somebody was catching the wrath
Then the little one said (Yeah me bitch) and laughed
Since he was with his boys he tried to break fly
Huh, I punched him dead in his eye and said "Who you calling a bitch?"

~~ Queen Latifah “U.N.I.T.Y”~~

All the time in the world

All the time in the world so I sit and I think

How easy it would be for this ship to sink

I think of the struggle to get where I am

And the only word to come outta my mouth was, DAMN!

How did this happen? How'd I get my shit together?

Especially after being so many years without a mother

Let’s not even get started on my father

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother

Now that I mention is that's where the problem is

That man never knew how to handle his bizz

He once said he never wanted me

I need someone to tell me

How could that be?

I know that I'm grown now but that shit still hurts

I need a reason for why I'm made to feel like dirt

I know it's not me

It couldn't be me

He just didn't know how to deal with responsibility

You think that it hurts me

HELL YEA IT HURTS ME!!!!!!

Who the fuck is he to tell me that I should not be?

I vow never to make the same mistakes that he made

Heaven knows he’ll need me someday

All the time in the world so I sit and I think

I’m glad that I finally have the courage to get it down in this blue ink

In Flames

I suppose that before I say anything I should introduce myself...

At the age of six I learned that life is irrational and nothing has meaning. At the age of eleven I discovered that there are truly evil people in the world. At the age of twelve I realized that there are more evil people in my life than I could have ever imagined. At the age of eighteen I experienced what it was like to go down in flames and cynicism became my way of life. When I was twenty I found inspiration in a mythical bird. The phoenix brought me hope. I rose from the ashes of my former self and found meaning in life. Without saying much at all this is me.