Quote of a message I received, and my subsequent response.
“In all honesty. You do have that Caribbean woman attitude I tried to avoid for so long. Lol like it’s a defense mechanism or something”
Caribbean woman, he said
With a Caribbean attitude
Something to avoid for so long
Crass and rude
According to his calculations
Yet he dated one and never dated a
Jamaican or Dominican or Cuban or Haitian
Any other woman from the Caribbean.
Making judgments and comparisons to whom?
A white woman?
Canadian? American? Scandinavian?
Tell you what…
Do this strong black woman and favor and
Stick to your
pasty snowy females
Idolized in magazines and movies, who
Passive and kind and poor creature, so dumb
Having never experienced
the sheer havoc wreaked on your heart and mind
The terror of a Caribbean man.
But darling your Caribbean woman attitude,
He cannot deal with.
Creates the Caribbean woman while
Shirking his duties and adoring
Everything but the woman God placed in his hand
Penis untamed sticking it into every open
Hole and crevice.
Some Consuming alcohol at every chance,
Some smoking, chilling on the blocks
Some content with the Caribbean dream
With rims and cars and clothes, image.
Swearing. Beating. Disrespecting.
His Caribbean woman.
Some cooking and cleaning, minding children
Some in darkened corners on their head
Some loud cackling chickens
Some swearing empty vessels of little substance
Some getting an education, supporting
Yet always told to hold her head high
Regardless of her circumstance.
And don’t let anyone run over her
Especially the Caribbean man.
Former kings who refuse to remind former queens
That they are such because they do not see them
This attitude of the Caribbean woman
Borne on the playing field
Molded by mother and aunt and grandmother
Flour and water and fruits of her hand
Carry yourself correctly
The women of old days saying
Mind your manners
You are great by nature of your birth
Young woman don’t forget it.
And by nature of your birth
Your Caribbean man views you not as
Empress and queen, strong woman
Your Caribbean man views you as dispensable
Not realizing it is his kind that feeds your aggression
That forced you to cope, to adapt to morph
Into that which he seemingly cannot stand?
Yes by right of my birth I am a Caribbean woman.
I am aggressive and strong.
I call you out when you’re wrong.
I can carry your child to term within my womb.
I can support you and feed you with these hands.
Mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually.
I can help you build and mold. I can enable and provide.
And I realize that I’m not something just any man can deal with.
But I also realize the man God destined for me will be able to manage
My Caribbean woman attitude.
And that is perfectly fine.
*adapted for generality
I can’t help but to feel sorry for the men that I find attractive. Sorry for their beautiful skin or gorgeous eyes. Sorry for their fine bodies, their deep or husky voices, their good jobs and intelligence. I feel sorry for their walk, talk, dress, tastes, style, everything.
I feel sorry for them because by reason of my attraction to them, they are an a**hole.
They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. And that if something is wrong in every situation you find yourself in, then the common denominator is in fact, YOU. Books are written about why men love bitches and how women are from venus, and literature up to the you know what detailing relationship advice. I know, because I had read the majority of them.
See, I know everything about a relationship by the book. I can quote you fancy lines and inspiring notations that would help you in your relationship. I can weave you fancy tales and give clever examples to support my statements. The thing is, we know what to do once we get into a relationship, but oh lord the choices we make as to whom we get into these relationships with.
So, What’s my type? My poison of choice? You guessed it. The infamous a**hole.
I didn’t mean for it to be this way, but it seems as though that is my personal insanity.
For example, the true bowel stretcher of a man who is comfortable with me paying and happy to relax and let me handle it. The sphincter clinger who states that by reason of my birth and nationality my attitude is something he wished to avoid. The mover and shaker of the anus who asked my sister back for the $8 he used to buy her Wendys. Not to mention the colon filler who couldn’t find the time to call or message because he was too busy. And of course I could go on, and on, and on.
Why do I date these kinds of people? If you have the answer, please let me know. Perhaps it is the culture in which I was raised, and the options I have to select. Perhaps one could argue my daddy issues and family dysfunction leads me to this choice. Then again others may theorize about various self esteem issues and events that happened in my childhood. Or maybe I’m just a silly woman who doesn’t make good choices because of a combination of all of these. I probably just wasn’t taught any better.
Whatever the case may be, I am tired of the a**hole attraction.
Therefore, it is confirmed. Be it resolved… I cannot be attracted to the next person I date. Simple.
It is decided.
I am on a continuous mission to find my purpose and passion in life.
To be honest, my attention span seems so brief – I adopted the phrase “Jill of all trades, and master of none” to describe myself at times, because that is how I feel. My general interests seem to shift daily with the wind. One day I am up in arms and excited about doing something, the next day I am no longer interested. For example, one day I decided I want to become a real estate agent, so I found out the book used for the course and bought it on Amazon, with the internal understanding that I would dive into it and make it happen.
Then I spoke with two experts in the field, who advised me that I would have to save up enough money to live off for a year, because I would not be guaranteed pay if I was to become an apprentice in the field.
Pause. Say what now?
So I look at the shiny book from Amazon and I get to thinking – am I willing and able to make that kind of sacrifice to achieve that goal? Is it really a goal? Or is it just a passing fad that I entertained the idea of briefly, just to let it go?
That book is still catching dust in my room by the way, and I see it every day.
Then there is the matter of my current goals. I know what I want to do, at times. I have generally pinpointed what I believe I really want to do and made a plan to do it – mission accomplished.
Or so I thought.
By chance, I came across a Youtube video post the other day by a guy called JP Morgan Jr., who spoke on the topic “How Do I Find My Passion” (If you want to watch the video this is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-ST9qTMn7g).
He said two things that really changed my perspective on this topic, and that’s really what I want to touch on currently.
- The first thing he said that really got my attention was that you don’t “find” your passion, you grow it, not discover it. JPMJ asked the audience if they believed in love at first sight, and said that he had some bad news for those that did. He compared this belief of “finding” your passion to going into a bookstore, looking in a book and then suddenly, “Oh! There’s my passion! Right here on page 78 in this book!” He stated just as you can’t force love, you can’t force passion.
This simple statement caused me to understand that I need to change my viewpoint on this journey – that is, I should not be trying to find my passion, but rather grow it from the talents that I already have. For example, my life’s purpose may be to become a construction worker, but of course I am not aware of this. I then look at what I enjoy doing – Ok I know I enjoy putting things together and I am good with my hands, and I enjoy math and measurements. In order for me to realize my true purpose and passion, something has to grow from these talents, rather than me waking up one day and say oh! I am meant to be a construction worker! Hooray!
Each step I take by following and pursing what it is I am interested in, will help to shape and grow my passion – so that one day I will achieve the fact that I am doing what I love to do, without realizing it.
Rather than doing this, JPMJ indicates that your motivation in this example is incorrect. Instead of “losing weight”, your goal should be a “healthy lifestyle”. In that way, your motivation is continuous – you don’t define your success by dropping pounds, you make changes in your life to become healthy and remain healthy. If you lose weight in the process, that is an added bonus of sorts, but your success will be seen and felt every single day for the rest of your life.
The point here is that your motivation affects your goals, and it is important to choose the correct motivation.
To bring it home personally, I want to change jobs – but what is my motivation? Well, I have a bitch of a supervisor, who makes my mental health come into question on a daily basis. My daily tasks bore me to tears, and I would prefer a challenge. I am using the anger that I feel at my job and supervisor to be the motivation behind me wanting to move. Then when I change jobs, I will experience the same thing – there may always be a bitch supervisor, and a job that becomes boring because I no longer have the anger to fuel my motivation.
I’ve realized now that this is the incorrect motivation, and I will most likely not attain my goal because of this. What should my goal be? What then should my correct motivation be? Whether it includes offering my skills and talents, moving into my desired field, etc. I’m not quite sure yet, and I am still figuring it out. But I realize that my current motivation for looking for another job is incorrect. I need to remove the problem from my mind, determine what my goals and dreams are, and then what steps I need to get there.
This is still a work in progress for me, and I hope that I gave you some food for thought as well. I have no doubt that I will understand my full potential in this life, and I continue on the journey to change my perspective from “ finding” my passion, to growing my interests to realize my passion.
There are two seemingly mandatory questions that a man must ask you once you say that you are single.
- When last have you got “some”?
The second question is in fact my moot focus today.
Being single and being asked when last you had sex is always an interesting time. In some cases, the men that ask single ladies that immediately find themselves experiencing an erection when she utters phrases such as “Lil while now” or “Can’t remember” or even “Couple months ago”.
Usually following this, men are unable to even complete the conversation, as they have already contorted you into positions unseen in a Kama Sutra handbook, simply because you are blowing the horn on dry dock. This is the part I find most hilarious, and the reason why can be summed up in the following 5 words:
“Not all penis makes sense”.
Allow me to elaborate. For some reason, men feel as though once you are on dry dock, and they have a penis, you are to be bestowed with the honor of resetting your “Length of Time Since You Had Sex Clock”, and proving that they can indeed slide something in and out of a crevice in your body.
Unfortunately, this is not the case simply because not all penis makes sense. While men have different girls for different reasons, women have different cocks for different reasons. For example, there is the one that can eat good but may be lacking in the intercourse area. Or perhaps the sensitive penis that likes to cuddle afterwards. Even still, the hammer of Thor that can make heavens open and the angels sing. Men may not realize that just because they have a penis, it does not mean that they will attain the cervix.
If a woman is on dry dock, 8 times out of 10 she wants to be there. Pause. Please allow that to sink in. If every straight man is willing to provide penis whenever it may be desired, why would a woman be on dry dock? Think about it.
Now, a female may be on dry dock for a variety of reasons:
- The penis she wants is with someone else.
- The penis she tried was mediocre and a waste of time.
- The PVC she got new batteries for is completing the task until Iron can be attained.
- She’s holding out in the hope of getting a man.
- The penis she had is no longer interested.
And the list goes on and on…
And just because she permitted you to partake in the breaking of her bread before, what makes you think she wants you to again? Yeah you had it before, but if you don’t get hit with that “Call-back” like an interview, chances are she would prefer to buy double A batteries than fake an orgasm with your mediocre jook again.
So fellas, next time you get excited about hearing she is on dry dock, realize that this may not be an open invitation for you to wine inna her hole. Think back to the last time she dialed your number, and decide within your own heart for yourself…
Does your penis make sense?
Mama Sista Single Caribbean Gal? Can I please testify?
I have a story to tell.
I just read a tweet one of my followers retweeted from the user @AskCheyB stating – “So many men are living off of their woman, sitting around doing nothing because they have a woman with low self-esteem who does everything!” (I ignored the “off of” and you can too)
One thing is for sure though – I was that woman.
If you told me around that time, that I was doing these things due to low self-esteem, I may have been up in arms, ready to fight and shoot off at the mouth to declare that this was not the case. However, in my old age, I realize that this was in fact the case. What a little low-self-esteem-having-bee I was.
My ex was an eye-opening experience to say the least, and I do not even have enough space to describe that whole era in. The young man decided that he was not going to work due to his trouble with authority – or so he would say. In the short time we dated, he held and left 4 jobs before deciding to call it quits on the whole. And when I say call it quits, I mean call it quits from trying to hold down a job altogether.
Of course, naturally, being the wonderful girlfriend that I was, I even tried to help him start a business, funding all of the startup costs so that he could not have trouble with authority. Everything was fine until one day, when he woke up and decided that he wasn’t going to continue the business anymore.
And that was that. Conversation with me about it? No. Return on investment? None.
The truth as I see it now is that he was comfortable. If he failed to hold down a job, his family was always there to pick him up and get him out of whatever situation. I have to blame myself of course, I didn’t do my homework on his full background, or study his family and search the deeper meaning of surface actions and dynamics. I plunged head first into the finest bowl of cow chili s**t you could ever imagine and swam around in this hot pungent stew for close to a year.
I was living on my own, covering all bills – rent, light, phone, food, gas etc. as a good independent woman should. The problem arose when small things began to arrive and remain at my place. The shoes here, the toothbrush there, the duffle bag here, the favorite pillow there. Then suddenly, his mom was asking when “we” were going “home”.
Funny enough, I was still there covering everything, except now it was for two people. We lived the strangest lives ever – he begged and bummed rides, washed and ate at his mom’s house, while I dutifully covered all of the bills still – except again, now it was for two.
Don’t get me wrong, we had a fantastic time together! All of the trappings of a great relationship, minus the leeching-nigga-low-self-esteem-dumb-broad combination.
The final straw that enabled the scales to fall from my eyes was this one special day when he decided we should attend a social event together. He explained that he had rustled up enough money to cover his entrance fee for the event, but not for both of us. “No biggie”, I decided, and went to the ATM to get my portion so that we could go. He went to the store next door. When we were driving to the event, I noticed he was drinking a beer.
In actuality he had bought 3.
3 beers was more than the cost of my entrance fee.
Slowly the fog faded from my mind – he had enough money to purchase these beers, but not enough to pay for me to get in this event he wanted us to go to.
Well Lord have mercy. I finally lost it. And I made the decision to do better for myself and leave him alone.
Let me ask you guys a few questions:
Do you know about your man dropping you off to work, and picking you up late in your own car?
What do you know of him pulling up with his friends in your car? Heaven forbid a female steps out the front seat and causes you to recall your birthright and religion.
Do you know about footing all bills while your man chills all day?
Have you heard of having enough money to buy smokes and dranks all day, but not enough for food?
Looking back at it now, I can only laugh about it. But oh man, at the time…
Foolish chick that I was, I am grateful for the experience. I have and still am working on the self-esteem issues and lack of training to ensure that I NEVER EVER find myself in such a situation again in this life. IF you are in such a situation today, I would advise you to truly see it for what it is – that man will not change and will continue to leech off you as long as you allow him to! You are not Captain “Save-A-Lousy-Nicca”, you have a life of your own to take care of, and many men out there are in a position to be a partner and companion rather than this leech you lay down next to each night. IF you need help, drop me a line.
Thank you Sista Single Gal for allowing me this space. And now ladies, if you will open up your hymnals to page 3, we will sing the hymn, “Don’t Do It”…