Sometimes You Gotta Let Go!!!!!!

Peep This! 

Ladies' Manual on Game, Part 1 (Fenix Edition)

Relationship Tug of War--When to Let Go 

Women are an emotional breed. Generally, our actions are dictated by our emotions.  Thankfully, we also have common sense to guide us, as our emotions often lend themselves to us making some downright stupid mistakes.  But what happens when we allow our emotions to cloud our judgement, to overshadow the most basic instinct that any woman should possess, which is to protect herself and her children at all costs? What happens then? Why do we, as women, allow ourselves to participate in what, in effect, amounts to a three-ring circus with a man that refuses to be loyal to us? When you are pulling for your man in the tug-of-war of love, and the side chick is pulling in the other direction, when do you let go?

Let's get this out of the way. If you are the type of chick that will tell a man that "you have to choose", then you definitely need to continue reading!  I hate to hear a woman use that phrase: "you have to choose", or "why does he do this to me?" Why do we give men that power? Why is it that we want for HIM to choose us? When we give men this authority, then we are giving them power over us. They know that they have our hearts in the palms of their hands, and they are free to toy with, squish, and otherwise maim it in anyway possible. And by giving them that power over our lives, they know that we are unwilling to let go. This is why we want them to choose, because we allow ourselves to feel powerless in situations where we should feel powerful.  The Bible says that a  MAN that finds a WIFE finds a good thing.  Do you understand the power that God gives woman in that simple phrase?  A woman is a prize! She is worthy of respect, and by giving our power to a man, we only disrespect ourselves...

Which brings me to my next point. It's ALL ABOUT RESPECT. If YOU don't respect you, then don't expect for him to respect you. After an episode of Love and Hip Hop Atlanta, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at dear, dear Mimi. Mimi Faust is about as beautiful a fool as they come, and it breaks my heart to say that.  Mimi became upset with Joseline after Joseline called her a maid.  She became more irate with Stevie because he didn't defend her. "You let her call me a maid and you didn't say nothin'?" This chick even went as far as to throw a drink and bite Stevie J in his face. Really, Mimi? Really? And just what did you accomplish with that mini-tantrum? Not one thing! First of all, you are demanding respect from a man who obviously has little respect for himself, yet you feel that because he has a child with you, that he owes you respect--no, mam, it doesn't work like that! He disrespected you a long time ago, continued to disrespect you, and the ultimate disrespect, the ultimate betrayal, was when he impregnated Joseline. Now rather than to gather her things and be done with the whole mess, Mimi was foolish enough to continue this abomination of a relationship, even allowing him to have her in therapy, along with he AND Joseline--at the same damn time!  Attention, ladies: A man does not owe you respect! He either respects you, or he doesn't. And if he can not respect you as his lover, his friend, his confident, his child's mother, than you can't MAKE him do it.  If he refuses to give you the respect that you rightfully deserve, then MOVE AROUND! Screw it, because this old adage is true: A man will only do what a woman LET'S him do.  If your man treats you like dirt, tell homie to eat rocks! Nothing gets a man's respect like saying "F... You", and meaning it. When he sees that you have moved on with your life, I mean really moved on (no backtracking, no one night stands, no lies), if he was worth having, then it won't be long before you see a new side of him. And if you don't, then he wasn't sh** , anyway, and you are better off without him!

How can I say this? Because I have been through it! My husband and I were back and forth, off and on, for years. And it probably would have stayed that way, if I didn't put my foot down.  I remember one evening, we had a little rendezvous, and afterward, this fool felt that he was ballsy enough to tell me that he had a new girlfriend. Huh, do what, now? Whatchu just say? At that point, I knew that I had enough. I didn't curse him out. Nope, not at all. However, I remember telling him that when he walked out of my front door, he would not be walking back through it. He thought that I was playing, but I was oh, so serious.  At that time, we had one child together.  After he walked out my front door, I kept my word. There were no "booty calls". There was no coming over to see the kid. Hell, you want him, come and pick him up or I can drop him off--I don't need you being under me! If it had nothing to do with our child, then we had no conversation. Why should we? Friends would have treated one another better than he treated me, so I didn't see the need for unnecessary conversation. He did his thing, and I did mine.  I took a vacation, and took that opportunity to renew myself.  I came back home with my son, happy and refreshed, because I had begun to reevalute my life. I realized that it wasn't him that was making me unhappy; I had more unresolved issues that I needed to contend with. But allowing him to come in and out of my life wasn't lending itself to making me happy, either, so I truly let go. I dealt with my issues, and allowed him to live the life that he wanted to live, and then...

He realized that once he had what he wanted, he didn't want what he had.  He realized that what he had was a young girl, and what he needed was a woman. And I was that woman.  I was strong, independent, and I had his back at all times. I loved his children from his previous relationships, and what shocked him was that even when we were no longer together, his children still loved and confided in me. I was truly his "ride-or-die chick". But I had to let him go, allow him to live "in that moment", so that he could see what was really right before him all along.  I did not want to force what I wanted as my "reality" to be his "reality". After almost a year, I received a call late one night. I had no idea who it could be; the number wasn't familiar to me (he would still see his child, however, conversation between us was very limited). "Hello" I answered. "Hey" was his response, followed by "do you mind if I call, just to talk?" Now looky there...I took that power away from him when I stood by my word!  The choice was not his, it was all mine! We talked for quite awhile, and when met to talk face-to-face again, I was looking at a completely different person. He didn't just look at me, but he SAW me. He respected me. He LOVED me. He LISTENED to me. And I could tell the difference, and it wasn't because of anything he said or did. When a person's heart truly changes, you can see the difference illuminating them from within. Even when I spoke, he hung on every word. Even the way that he touched me, the way that he held me, everything was different. He was a different man, not because he HAD to be, but because he wanted his family together, he wanted to be a BETTER man. And that's what he did. We've been married now almost 4 years.

When you've given it your all, and your all just isn't enough, then it's time to let go. Stop giving him power over you! You deserve better in this life, but it's up to you to seek out your "better".  Live your life being the best person that you can be, and the rest will fall into place.  We have to stop chasing men that don't want to be caught, loving men that can't love us, respecting men that find joy in disrespecting us. Life is TOO SHORT! Slowly inhale. Exhale. Then. Just. Let. Go...

My Weight--My Journey

Week 1

My brother and I at his graduation ~2007

 I can never remember a time when I wasn't a big girl. I really can't. Oh, I have seen a picture (I'll give myself credit, so, maybe 2), where I was a normal sized little girl, but I don't remember it. In my mind, I have always been "a big girl".

As a child, my mother used to always criticize my me for my weight. Well, that's how I felt. She wasn't actually criticizing me. She was expressing her concern for me, knowing the hazards and issues of excessive weight gain.  I wasn't as big as some of the children that I see walking around today, but for my age, around 12-14, I was too big. As a teenager, the smallest size that I even remember being is a size 16. My mother used to tell me various things to do and to eat, and looking back, I see that I was too sensitive to the concern that she was showing me. I didn't look at her critiques as coming from a positive, loving mother whom only wanted the best for her child. I saw her as the enemy, attacking "daddy's little girl", and even enlisted my father in the battle about my weight. I remember he used to tell my mother to "leave my baby alone. She'll lose weight when she's ready. I love her just the way she is" and "she's still my baby". Those words soothed my bruised ego, but it did nothing for the most pressing issue that was at hand: my weight. My mother was right, and I should have started to do something THEN.

Now, don't get me wrong. It's not that I haven't tried to lose weight, even as a teen. I've tried dieting, using  Dexatrim, SlimFast, etc. However, in order for any of these things to be even minutely effective, there requires some dedication on the part of the person wishing to lose weight. I don't ever think that I was dedicated to the idea of losing weight. As a matter of fact,  I don't think that I've actually been dedicated to anything, and as I look back over my life, I realize that this is a common theme (but that's another story--another day, another blog entry). So, rather than losing weight, over time, I just continued to gain...and gain...and gain. When I said, "I'll never go past an size 16", then became, "I'll never allow myself to go past an 18"...and I kept getting bigger. Don't get it twisted: I wasn't just a couch potato. I played basketball, kickball, baseball, and dodgeball with my friends almost every day, but my playtime was never enough to exceed the calories that I packed on with my diet of french fries, pork, and sugary sweets.

So why am I blogging about this? I want to share my story, both as a warning, and as motivation to others.  Many people have no idea as to why they rarely see me make public appearances. Why am I at home so much? Why do I have limited contact with people that I've known and love for years? It's because every day, EVERY SINGLE MINUTE OF EACH AND EVERY DAY, I am in pain. I joined Zumba last year, something that I came to love, but because of the pain, I had to quit. Sometimes it's not so rough, most times it's unbearable, and it stems from the arthritis that has afflicted my body, particularly situating itself in my knees and my hips. It is extremely hard for me to stand, especially after being in a sitting position for more than a few minutes, because my joints stiffen.  Once I stand, it takes a few minutes for the stiffness to ease, so I'm still walking like a bowlegged robot when I begin to take steps. There are times that I wait until the last minute to even use the restroom, because I fear the pain of standing and walking. I have no energy. I'm always tired. No, scratch that. Because of the pain and the weight that I'm carrying on my joints, I'm always EXHAUSTED. One knee is constantly inflamed, and I have little flexibility in it, so to relieve myself of the pain, I'm always in bed. I'm not ashamed of myself, I am ashamed FOR myself, for ever having allowed myself to get to this point. This is why I have withdrawn from not just society, but it feels like I have withdrawn from the life that God wants me to have. BUT THE BUCK STOPS HERE!!!!!

I am the mother of an 11-year-old and a 3-year-old, and they both have energy levels out of the roof! How can I begin to keep up with them? How can I begin to meet the demands of being a mother, and a wife? I don't even attend church the way that I would like, because of the exhaustion and the pain. THE BUCK STOPS HERE! I AM TAKING BACK MY LIFE, ONE DAY, ONE POUND, AT A TIME. I have joined a gym, and I've worked out there 3 times already. I can only do the treadmill right now, because of the joint pain. In addition, because I am in so much pain, I am considering my doctor's recommendation for gastric bypass surgery. I am only considering this now, because even though I am working out, I don't know how much my joints can take, at my current weight. I am vowing to eat better, to eat healthier, so that I can release my "inner freak". I know she's in there, I've just got to find her...

This is the beginning of my journey to a new and healthier body. And on this journey, I plan on finding something else: me.


Follow @blufenix75

Is Trayvon Martin Our Generation's Emmett Till?

In 1955, a single, black mother from Chicago, sends her fourteen year old son off to visit relatives "down in Mississippi". The mother, Mamie Till, a gentle, loving woman, cared for her only son very deeply. He was her child, her "baby", and he loved his mother just as much. Miss Till once recounted how, at the age of 11, Emmett stood up to his estranged father, who had come by the house and threatened to cause harm to Mamie. Emmett grabbed a butcher knife, prepared to defend his mother. It was this loving, caring, nurturing relationship between a mother and her son that was abruptly halted when Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam kidnapped, beat, tortured, and killed Emmett Till during his visit to Mississippi.

Not only was Emmett Till brutally beaten, he was shot in the head. Teeth knocked out of his mouth. An ear was missing. One eye hung from its socket. An almost 75-lb. cotton gin had been tied to Emmett, before his body was tossed in a river. A teen, fishing on the Tallahatchie River, found Till's body. In an effort to cover up the brutal killing of this FOURTEEN YEAR OLD BLACK MALE, local authorities ordered for him to be immediately buried. He was placed in a casket which was then sealed. The brutality of Emmett's murder, even Emmett's murder itself, was supposed to remain a secret. Authorities in Mississippi did not want it revealed that they were not civil to blacks in the south, that its treatment of African-Americans was downright inhumane. No, this was supposed to remain a dirty little secret, and it probably would have, had Mamie Till refused to have her son buried in Mississippi. She insisted on having her son's body shipped to Chicago, where she requested an open-casket funeral for her son. She wanted the nation, better yet, the WORLD, to see what "they" had done to her son. She wanted justice for her son's murder. She died in 2003, and never saw that justice, for even with the strength of the evidence and eyewitness testimony, Till's murderers were set free.

I don't know how old I was when I first heard of Emmett Till, but I was a very young child. What I do know is that there was a lump in my throat, a knot in my stomach, and anger in my heart when I heard of what had become of this young man. His life was cut short, at the age of fourteen. When I was fourteen, I felt that I had my whole life ahead of me. I had so many plans...just into high school, thinking about boys, playing ball with my friends--these were the things on my mind. But at fourteen, Emmett was being beaten for whistling, SIMPLY WHISTLING, at a white woman. His captors laughed as he was beaten, punched, slapped, shot--downright tortured. His life, his dreams, the dreams of his mother, were taken when he was only fourteen. Thinking of Emmett still does something to me--that same familiar knot is there, that lump in the throat, the anger, the disbelief, especially the sadness, they are all still there. How can something this outrageous happen in the United States of America, and Emmett never receive justice? Even 50 years later? Even though the Tills never received justice, Emmett's death sent a shocking message to the world about the state of civil rights in America, and galvanized a movement. There would be no more Emmett Tills...

Oh, but there would be, and his name: Trayvon Martin. On February 26, while watching the NBA All-Star game with his family, Trayvon went to the store for his brother and himself, and purchased Skittles and an Iced Tea. On the way home, he was followed by a self-appointed community watch volunteer, who claimed that Trayvon looked "suspicious". Before Trayvon made it home, approximately 2 minutes, or about 70 yards from his father's door, Trayvon was confronted, shot in the chest, and killed by George Zimmerman. Trayvon only held an iced tea, and the packet of Skittles that he had purchased. He was unarmed. And only 17 years old. Zimmerman, 28 years old, at least 250 lbs, twice a big as Trayvon, claims self-defense, even though Trayvon was unarmed, and by even Zimmerman's accounts, had attempted to flee from Zimmerman, whom he felt threatened by. Trayvon didn't understand why he was being followed, and if he could speak to you now, he would tell you that he does not understand why he had to die. The outrage is not just at his death, but at the fact that his murderer has not even been arrested. In fact, Zimmerman is still in possession of a key piece of evidence--the murder weapon.

Millions of people around the world are flabbergasted, angered, and saddened by this child's murder. No one understands, save the Sanford Police Chief and Zimmerman, himself, why an unarmed young man, an African-American child, had to die, just trying to get home, to finish watching a basketball game that he would never see. Had Rev. Al Sharpton and others not become involved, had the main stream media not picked up this story of injustice, then Trayvon's senseless murder may have just been swept under the rug, just as authorities had tried to do when Emmett Till was killed. "If no one knows, it will just go away..." But just as the world had it's eyes on this great country when the mutilated corpse of Emmett Till was placed on the covers of news publications like Jet magazine, so are the eyes of the world on this country as we allow a child murderer to walk the streets, FREE.

Will there be justice for Trayvon? In the Till case, at least his murderers were arrested. They were tried by a group of their peers, who felt that the 75-lb cotton gin tied to Till's body was worth more than Till's life, so they were found not guilty. Trayvon's murderer has not even been arrested, and Trayvon has been dead almost a month! Although there are some differences between the Till and Martin murderers, there are too many similarities. And the most glaring one of all: to date, the families of both murdered children have not received justice. Will there be justice for Trayvon? Or will we allow the message to prevail that some lives are worth more than others, especially if the life lost is black? Can this nation stand up, and answer the call for justice, showing the world that we are not the same country of 50 years ago, when a child named Emmett Till could be murdered and his killers are allowed to go free? People all over the world are standing up for justice for this child, saying, NO MORE! Blacks, whites, and everyone in between see the injustice in this unarmed youth being shot. He cannot be another Emmett Till. He cannot. Or can he?

Again, I feel that familiar lump in my throat, that knot in my stomach, and anger in my heart. Only there is more sadness, and disbelief, that even in 2012, with the progress that we have supposedly made, and even electing an African-American President, our youth are still being murdered, and with no repercussion. The lives of our black youth are valued no more in 2012 than in 1955. RIP Trayvon. RIP Emmett. We will continue to fight for you.

Follow @blufenix75