Abused & Beautiful

The more I explore the world of narcissism and emotional abuse I see that women across the board are going through the same thing. Trying to cope with our own issues while coaxing an angry man-child through his. No matter the beauty, brains, or pockets of the woman...there's always a toxic male figure lurking around the corner with some "woe is me" story about how life has been so unfair to him and only him to the point where all his shortcomings should be forgiven simply because "it's not fair." Meanwhile women are out here struggling through double standards and trying their best to not be prey.

It has dawned on me, through several non-sensical meme posts and Facebook arguments, that men really do not want to "own up" to their shortcomings. They refuse to put the egg before the chicken. They refuse to acknowledge their failures as men. Nope...it's always the "single mother" to blame, or welfare, or "the man." But never THE MAN who actually fell through. Black men, SPECIFICALLY, want to lead but refuse to do the things needed to bring their women out of the spiraling darkness they left them in. For CENTURIES now, black women have had to be the MAN of the house both by design and by the fact that our men choose to be lazy, no good, mama's boys, looking for a hand up while waiting on their GREAT WHITE hope to come scoop them up out the hood.

Quite frankly I'm so fed up with "our" men I'm ready to go back to the other team and sleep with the enemy. At least then I'll have the peace of mind of a Caucasian woman. I'm literally sick and tired of hearing about struggle love and side chicks. Tired of listening to the odes of broke men who sell perfume outside a corner store. I'm tired of the $15 or less crowd poking their noses into grown folks business. You sir...with the minimum wages....sit the fuck down.

Now they'll be a lot of "that's why you single now...$15 is a living" ass niggas in my comments...not realizing that $15/hr is what the white boys were making shuffling buggies back in high school. I'm tired of being expected to do what white women do on a ramen noodle budget. How in the hell am I supposed to provide for myself, my children, AND YOUR GROWN ASS but still come home with a pleasant demeanor and clean up after you? Right....b/c I enjoy working all day to come home to pissy bathroom rugs, skid marks, and growling bellies.

It's like black men just don't get it....you don't get to sit at home and BE A MAN. No...you get to sit at HOME and be a MAID. A COOK. When you don't work you assume the role that would traditionally have been given to the woman. You make the sandwiches and she brings home the bacon. White men do it all the time *Cue the "I'm not white" brigade. Yeah..uhh...duh...that's what this whole article is about.

If a white man can find beauty in our natural hair....why can't our men do the same? If a white man can fight for his kids in court....why can't our men do the same? Why do we have to have the "baby mama drama hour every single day? Why can't a two parent household exist without some poor woman ignoring the side piece and stray baby?

Why, just why, can't black women get the RomCom love we see on Lifetime and Hallmark? Where is our prince in shining armor? Where is the man of our dreams coming to alleviate our struggle? Where are the Kings who can rule without arrogance and polygamy? Where? Where are they?

They...don't...exist.

Society has done a great job at conditioning our men to be "less than" and them motherfuckers are revelling in it. Instead of stepping up to the plate to prove a hater wrong they are simply saying "Fuck it...I'll give em what they asking for." with no regards to their Queens or their daughters who are now left to fend against the world for themselves AND for their lost kings.

In short...I am disgusted by our men. It is time to stop fornicating with these low IQ lower pay ass niggas....and start demanding the same thing as our white sisters have been getting their whole lives. Stability. Security. Affection. And someone who can take the gah dayum trash out without being asked.

(Scoff) you niggas irk the f*ck outta me. 

Long time no see...let me vent

So we meet again, dear blog.

Here you are untouched but needed. I've needed this outlet since the day that I opened it but I keep telling myself that I don't. I keep lying to myself and telling myself I'm adult.

But what does that even mean? How am I supposed to quantify that? Live my life by it?

How am I supposed to cope with being lied to? Betrayed by your closest.

As I sit here I ask myself if I want to wallow. Do I want to cry? Yes. Do I want to crawl into a ball and forget my responsibilities? Yes. If I could go back in time would I do it differently? Yes. Yes. Yes. Even if it meant I didn't get to raise my beautiful daughter. I feel like I would give it all up not to feel this betrayal.

And then on top of the betrayal...it's the nonchalant way it's written off as "emotional issues."

NO...no you don't get to do that! You don't get to determine that I'm defective because you did something wrong and now you're upset about my response. No...you don't get to do that...


But alas...that's what you've just done. Now I'm 'making mountains out of mole hills." Now I'm "ungrateful." Now I'm "emotionally unstable." And out of all that truth...outta all that critique not one critique lands on the culprit.

No you just get to keep rolling on...rolling on...moving through towns and cities taking the hearts of women and pretending to be a knight in shining armor. Then, when they finally get wind of who you really are, you rid yourself of any responsibility by convincing yourself "she's crazy,"

There is only one problem now....

I don't give one flying f*ck how you feel about me. I couldn't care less about your unwarranted analytics of me and my life. Quite literally if you died today I'd consider it a personal favor from God.

I didn't ask for you demon....I didn't ask for your abuse, for your lies.

I didn't ask to spend all these nights crying myself to sleep feeling like I was going insane because my gut is telling me something is amiss but your disgusting lying mouth is telling me another.

Why in the WORLD I chose to believe you over myself is beyond me.

But today I am BEYOND that. Today my rose colored glasses fell from my face and shattered on the ground. I can now see you clearly for the disgusting, lying, moocher, that you are. If I could wash my skin off with a brillo pad I would...just to get the stench of you off of me.


I can't write enough vile words to describe the things you've done to me. And I can't wait to read them all at your funeral.

See you in hell you cowardly piece of lying bull crap.

Worst Case Scenario....

    I've always been told to "plan for the worst and expect the best" which just so happens to be great words to live by but as I sit here thinking about the type of situations I use this type of logic with I notice that the worst case scenario always seems to be the thing that happens. So now I feel like I the adage should be "Plan for the worst...because that's what's going to happen."

     I'm just so sick and tired of being disappointed. Most of my new clients have been disappointments. All of the jobs I apply for have been disappointments. All of the people I've tried to help have been disappointments. Most of the artists I started out with are disappointments. Disappointment after Disappointment and I keep asking myself why and getting no answer in return which is...you guessed it....Disappointing.

 

When did this happen?

So I'm checking out the lineup for the next few months...and I realize I have two tours to help! TOURS!

I went from throwing parties at a barn with a sign (S/o To PJ's Bar&Grill) to participating in multi-city tours. I'd say it's cause for confetti.

Now I have the daunting task of sitting down and doing, for myself, the very services Konstant Kudos is supposed to offer and offer well.

But here's the thing...I went into this thing as a business woman and never even stressed the idea of being the girl in the spotlight....even though I dooo love Beyonce! But now the offer presents itself and I can't say no...even if I have no music that I'm ready to perform!!!! My company will prosper...if I have to wear every hat in my motherF*cking closet.

I paid the piper....and this is what he told me.

Music is the only clarification I know. Everything else just seems to come and go.

It has left me in the oddest of states. Spending countless hours over analyzing the simplest of relationships trying my best to be the next Forbes 500 CEO. I swear I'm going to make that list one day.

Right now, "Butterflies" by MJ is playing in the background (Thanks Pandora!) and it has brought me so much peace to be able to block out the world behind me and work on my little electronic #Cloud9 I've been building (since High School BTW). For once in my life I am exactly what I wanted to be...."Free as A Butterfly." And I plan to return with all my flights heavily documented for the world to see.

Jaded....

I have everything and nothing to say....all at the same time.

AlterEgo Freaks Teaser.mp4