- boy: hi, i've been stalking you for ages now
- girl: ok
- boy: i'm way older than you
- girl: ok
- boy: i'm not telling you my name or exact age so we can meet, which is dangerous and not-recommended by anyone
- girl: ok
- "man": i don't like your friends
- girl: ok, i can deal with that
- "man": wanna be my girlfriend?
- girl: oh, i'm sorry, it's not that i don't wanna be your girlfriend, but relantionships are deadly serious, maybe if we get to know each other it'll happen :)
- "man": WTF NO ONE HAS EVER SAID NO TO ME, I'M AWESOME, I CAN GET ANY GIRL I WANT, I CHOOSE BITCHES, I'M NOT AN OPTION. YOU ACT LIKE SEVENTEEN
- girl: but i am seventeen :/
- "man": OH GUESS WHAT? YOU HAVE PNEUMONIA, AND THIS IS ME FUCKIN' YOUR LIFE, EVEN KNOWING THAT I'M ALL KINDS OF MESSED UP, AND KEEP ADDING AN IMAGINARY "S" ON THE NAME OF YOUR FAVORITE BAND, YOU'RE AFRAID TO COMPROMISE, WHERE'S THE PASSION IN YOUR EYES? YOU'RE A CHILD INDEED.
- and that's the story of my emotional life
On Mother’s Day: The Would be Superhero who Fears Being an Emotionally Arrested Black Mother by Fallon @ The Black Youth Project
Daily, watching my father blacken my mother’s eye and then watching my mother cover those eyes and his violence with Fashion Fair concealment and images of her unworthiness, taught me a profound lesson that literally left an indelible mark that to this day I struggle to unlearn. I learned the sacred child-like task of saving my damaged and utterly broken parents from themselves. And, what a savior-like task it was because I had to sacrifice myself (i.e. Self-esteem, Inner calling, Voice, and Safety). In my seven year-old brown girl mind, I was fulfilling my calling. A calling that taught me to deny my pain, my need for rest, my need to take care of myself in order to scurry out into the big world and save very broken and tattered people.
I tell you, I have an insatiable appetite for the tragic, emotionally arrested, and inconsolable people, in particular, black women and girls. If I am honest about the mother figures and girlfriends I have and have had in my life, many of them are or were women who do not “emote” (i.e. emotionally stunted inconsolable women) … they are women who do not dream at night, they lack color in their life (i.e. Walls, clothing, etc.), they don’t allow themselves and body parts to breathe (i.e. hair is always pulled back, very prim and proper, etc.), they can say, “I don’t have to talk to you frequently to be in relationship,” … they are women who have been cut off from themselves (i.e. Eternal Girls). But, yet, I flock to save them, to show them the power of emoting, to let them know how amazing they are by putting them on a pedestal for me to aspire to be … I am addicted to saving their emotional lives. And, as my 70 plus black grandmother would say, “Honey chile, there is cost to all things.” And, the cost of saving those who should not be saved is that for my future daughter, if I am so fortunate to conceive or to adopt, is that she would feel the pressure to save me because my daughter’s story is informed by me. I don’t want to become the type of mother that makes her daughter responsible for her happiness or responsible for her pain.
I regret never having the opportunity to go to one of DBSK's concerts when they were together.
Because now that they’re split, I’m like
And the tears just keep coming…
I mean, I try to stop myself from watching their old concerts and mv’s, but…I just can’t stop because…THEIR VOICES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL!!!
*sigh*…I think I’ve developed a sense of masochism by torturing myself with watching their vids…
And when I go to school all depressed and heart-broken looking, my friends are all like
”Are you okay?”
So I tell them why, and then they’re just like
Yeah…DBSK has basically taken over my emotional sanity xD I mean, I can’t even get a boyfriend cause my standards have been super raised since I knew of them xD *sigh* where are men like you…???
It’s crazy how my total need of inhibition with my primal and natural drive for things that I desire is a double edged sword for not only my professional life, but my personal life as well. And the sad part is that as it happens, I’m there trapped, paralyzed with no means to do anything about it. I’m disgusted by the manner in which I have to be composed out of fear and lack of understanding that it all feels fake to me. It’s not natural so I assume, but it feels just as natural because I wasn’t taught to feel much emotion and so subconsciously, I had to instead suck it up and never show it.
I feel so
unusual bad for falling in love, for not being spontaneous, and yet on the flip side being emotional and being so open. I feel so bad for understanding the essential thing that every human being needs: to feel connected to someone or something. In some sense I refuse to fall in love or be kind and good to others and nonetheless choose to be detached, in fear of not having it be reciprocated.
I guess the most valuable lesson that I know as an young woman is that when you have an open heart in a world where there is a rarity of compassion for the fellow man, that you can easily be taken advantage of. If you are strong and defensive, then you’re labeled a bitch, or a ice queen. I chose to be neither. That specific thing, I’m not so sure what it is.
I feel so bad for having so much love in my heart for those I care deeply for and not having the emotional capacity to hate. Either I’m disgusted or angry, but not hateful.
All my life I’ve felt that I had to be in the middle. I was taught not to be like the others and follow the beat of my own drum. But I still feel like I’m being pulled from both sides.
I know I can get past this, though I know that this experiences will leave a lasting mark on things that I do or plan to do. That’s how hard shit seems to affect me, an I allow it to, but I also allow myself to rise above it and keep going…
I’m a mess. I know I am. Maybe an ugly mess, or a beautiful one. I have no idea.