Category Archives: Marriage

Lessons on Accepting and Tolerating Domestic Violence Start Early for Little Girls

By now you’ve seen the Ray Rice video where the Ravens running back gets into an elevator with his fiancé, punches her unconscious and then drags her out of the elevator like trash. They have since tied the knot/jumped de broom/ whatever you want to call the fiasco when a woman marries her abuser.

rayIt’s easy to point fingers at Janay Palmer and ask yourself what on earth would possess her to legally bind herself to a man who has proven he is prone to violence and clearly lacks self-control. What further would compel her to join him on stage during a press conference and “admit” that she had some part to play in her own beating? Philosophers like DL Hughley might rationalize that it is because Ms. Palmer is a “thirsty bitch” who doesn’t want to mess up her money. The only person who can provide reasons why she is still with Ray Rice is Janay Palmer, and like many victims of domestic violence, those reasons become murkier with time.

“I don’t know why I stayed,” is the refrain you often hear from women who have escaped violent relationships. This will often be followed with a litany of justifications that include:

Love

Loyalty

The kids

 

As always, I never want to give the illusion that I am sitting in judgment of another woman in circumstances such as these. While I have never been in a physically abusive relationship, I was a willing participant in an emotional (and well documented) one for a year with Douche Bag. I even confessed to the MOM Squad to wanting to marry him at some point. I was enamored with his ‘potential’. If he just applied himself he could really BE something, I thought. But the man is an outright lost case… as his fiancé (with no engagement ring, and now, no wedding date) has come to discover. I wonder how long she’s going to let him live in her expansive house, rent free with access to as much free food and sex as his little heart desires? That will be for her to decide. Every woman has her line and her limits.

But what makes women so tolerant of abuse? The figures on domestic violence are murky, but it’s estimated that between 25-33% of all women will find themselves a victim of domestic abuse in some form. The abuse can take the form of psychosocial or emotional trauma, to routine beating and in some cases death.

It is my contention that people who abuse women –even female ones – seek out certain types of women. They look for women who are sweet, or have moderate-low self-esteem, or fiercely dependent, or confess to undying loyalty. A woman like that is easier to trap and control than your garden variety self-obsessed, highly ambitious gargoyle who would sooner burn their assailant alive than to let him/her touch her in a violent way. That’s not to say a person with an abusive personality wouldn’t try it; but the point of abuse is to establish control and women who are not easily controlled do not make convenient victims.

These ‘feminine’ qualities – the self-sacrificing and nurturing archetypes that women are raised to aspire to – are a hotbed for the virus that is an abusive personality. If not presented with a strong sense of balance, they do more to enable the abuser than to deter his or her behavior. It’s important that we talk about woman on woman abuse when we speak about domestic violence, because the face of lesbian domestic violence is often veiled. I have had two very good friends share with me the horror of having their partner stomp them in a parking lot or assault them at home. Whether it’s a man beating up a woman or same gendered abuse, the goal is the same: to assert dominance and to make your victim feel weak, afraid, and hopefully, too scared to leave.

These are emotions I will never tolerate as they relate to my girls.

My parents never talked to me about the intricacies of domestic violence. We never talked about the mechanics or the intention behind it. There was always a sense that they would “take care” of anybody that hurt us, but even in that messaging I found myself feeling more afraid and compassionate for the potential recipient of my parent’s wrath than I did for myself. I did and could not fathom that anyone would hurt me so severely that it would warrant such intense retaliation!

There are many conversations I will have to have with my girls including dating, choosing colleges, which market to buy their first home, why they should never accidentally put diesel in their engine that only takes unleaded…but I confess I never put domestic violence on the list. It’s scary to imagine, let alone discuss. Fortunately, a cartoon gave me the perfect segue to the topic.

jemI recently introduced the girls to JEM and they have been devouring the episodes like a pair of piranha. Like many other American girls, I loved the cartoon in the 80’s, memorized the theme song and wished I could be a star, just like Jem and the Holograms. I vaguely remember her having a boyfriend named Rio, but now that I am watching the cartoon as an adult, I am horrified! Rio as I have rediscovered, is in a 3-way relationship with Jem and Jerrica Benton (who are the same person). In one episode we all watched, Jerrica was on the verge of revealing to Rio that Jem was her secret identity. The burden was too much for her to bear, and Rio was screwing with her head, confessing to loving Jem AND Jerrica on separate occasions. Before she could confess, there was an altercation with some other people in the house and she changes her mind.

Furious because she won’t be forthcoming with him, Rio then storms off screaming at Jerrica and then KICKIN OVER HER FICUS before essentially telling her to screw herself. The girl just stood there and cried. I was beside myself with rage, because one day the dude is kicking down your plants, the next he’s kicking in your teeth…

“Girls!” I squawked. “Don’t you EVER let some dude come over to your house and kick your plants over. You hear me? That ain’t his house. That’s YOUR house. And you better not let me hear about you crying over it neither!”

This was followed by a chorus of “Yes, Mommy” accompanied with neck rolls and declarations of woe to befall any boy foolish enough to pull such a stunt. It was a start.

But now I know I have to have more meaningful discussions with my girls about relationships and abuse. With our children being sexualized through all forms of print and electronic media, I know it’s my duty as a mother to control or contribute as much as I can to that messaging. Not doing so would be irresponsible – like letting their little hands go and allowing them to wonder on that dark path I’ve traveled on myself, or to unconsciousness on an elevator floor.

What Are Your Marital Codes?

There are all kinds of marriages: Marriages of convenience, polygamous marriages, arranged marriages, marriages to the gods. Some people even marry their pets. Today we’re going to focus on plain ol’ dull, hetero-normal, missionary position, “What do you want to eat for dinner, bae?” marriage…if that’s alright with you, dear Reader.

I like reading (certain) articles and posts about other people’s marriages. I realize that couples are not obliged to share the most intimate moments of their lives or dish out advice about what has given their relationship such longevity (or robbed it of it), so I am appreciative when they do. One article I read when hubby and I were still in the early days of our marriage stuck with me. I can’t remember the source or the author, but the husband was talking about ways in which he and his wife kept the spark alive in their marital union, now that they were the parents of small kids.

Apparently, Barney kept their marriage spicy. Yes; that Barney.

Everything's better with a friend!

Everything’s better with a friend!

It has been scientifically proven that there is an inverse relationship between the perpetual presence of children in one’s home and sexual activity, and in order to overcome this calamity the couple in question developed a code to communicate the desire for spontaneous sex.

“Who wants to watch Barney?” his would ask in a sing-song voice, pausing in the middle of whatever she was doing.

“I do, I do!” their pre-school aged children would squeal.

Dad would then pop in the VHS and the couple would be guaranteed 20-30 minutes of undisturbed, sweaty intercourse. Everyone wins.

We got titanium wedding rings with etchings similar to the One Ring

We got titanium wedding rings with etchings similar to the One Ring

I thought it was SO COOL that this pair had created their own cipher to express their individual needs – something between just the two of them. I imagine that other couples do it as well. As Lord of The Rings and Star Trek fans, Marshall and I have developed our own marital code, which I will share with you now.

*Ahem*

“Hey babe. You want to go to Deep Space Nine?”

“Sure. I’d love to launch a Class -1 probe.”

“Oh. Hold on. You might have to wait until later. Shields are up, and we’re on red alert.”

“I’ll notify engineering. Would you like the replicator to get you some chocolate?”

See? We could have that conversation in front of the kids and no one gets mentally scarred for life.

We also have nonverbal and physical cues that we employ to convey an emotion. If Marshall does something he’s particularly proud of, he will assume this stance:

Celebrity Cityriker crotch 2

This aggressive crotch thrust says “I dominated over this obstacle. I made this problem my b!tch.”

In moments when my blood sugar is running low, I may request some elevenses after which some tasty num-nums will magically appear.

hobbit

Codes and code switching are an integral part of human interaction. Minorities are often compelled to code switch when they want to get a job or decent customer service in any hospitality environment, and friends often develop codes between each other. MX5’s and my code for expressing a need to catch up on current events, for example, rests in a one word query: Coffee?

We’ve been hardwired to believe that marriage is hard and that it takes work to make it succeed. Often, this is interpreted as marriage being something to avoid. After all, “hard work” doesn’t translate as “fun”, does it? But since when does anything worth having and protecting come easy? Developing a unique set of marital codes takes dedication and work, and I’m pretty proud of the crotch thrust, high fantasy, pseudo geek/nerdy cues we’ve created together.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to journey to Isengard and vanquish an ever present enemy. Never you mind what foe awaits me!

 

Have you developed any marital codes? Maybe you never plan on getting married, so have you developed codes with those closest to you? What genre inspires your codes? I bet you’re gonna go get you some codes now, huh? Yeah…I know.

Let’s Face It: Most Pastors Aren’t Equipped to Deal with ‘Sexual Immorality’

Some people are so heavenly minded that they are no earthly good, and that includes quite a number of men who stand behind their Plexiglas or stained oak pulpits Sunday after Sunday. To say that they are “heavenly minded” is even being generous, in my books. These men are usually “budget minded”, conjuring up sermons in their sleep that will create the next wave of controversy and get tongues wagging and donations flowing in.

What easier way to do this than to play the pimp?

Oh, don’t be fooled! Many men of the cloth are little more than ordained neighborhood pimps. Why do you need 4 churches on the same corner? Why are so many messages focused on money? Why is Sunday morning STILL the most segregated time of the day in America? Why does every talk surrounding sexual purity begin and end with a woman’s responsibility in the matter?

In Africa in particular, men of any faith (and pick your poison) are not generally men of learning. They read a few books in even fewer genres and draw conclusions based on something they heard Kenneth Copeland or John Hagee say in 1988. Television, movies and music are bad…unless it’s Christian television. Let me tell you something about Christian TV, folks. It’s utterly irrelevant to a lost and dying world. People have real problems, and a cute Christmas story about how one boy lost his puppy who miraculously made its way home isn’t going to provide a solution to hunger, anger or poverty.

This guy is Ian Blankson from my book, I swear!

This guy is Ian Blankson as I dreamed him from my book, I swear!

I got on a rabbit trail. I’m sorry. We were talking Pulpit Pimps. Today, I’m focusing on the ridiculous utterances of Dag Heward-Mills. For the benefit of full disclosure, I have never heard the man’s sermons, read any of his books or sat through any of his messages. I only heard about him today when someone tweeted his parable about an apple and shared the same message on Facebook. I am completely open to the possibility that his words COULD HAVE have been taken out of context, but since these words were on HIS wall and he has full control over his messaging, I have to hold him accountable in that regard. Plus, he looks like the sort of man who would vehemently defend his misogynistic remarks. Or is there another, less insidious word to describe this? I can’t think of one.

apple bishop

As much Bishops, pastors and youth leaders like to talk about sexual purity, they have NO idea about what’s going down in these here streets, let alone what leads to two people between the sheets. And because they are willfully ignorant, the easy answer to all the ills that plague society because of “sexual immorality”, is to leave it at a woman’s vaginal opening.

How many times have we heard phrases like “Ladies, close your legs to married men” or forced girls out of school because someone got them pregnant? (For the record, I hate the term ‘fall pregnant’. No one falls and gets pregnant, like it’s a scab. Someone had to intentionally insert and inseminate.) It takes two people to have sex, but the burden of protection and in this case –purity – falls strictly on one gender!

What is this?!?!

A documentary entitled “72%” has recently come out, which follows single Black women and discusses the 72% rate of Black children who are born out of wedlock. I have made it a point to watch this documentary in the near future, because I’m curious to see what kind of spin – if any – they put on the subject of single Black motherhood. Despite the picture society paints, the number of women who willingly enter into single motherhood which is in itself the engine behind the wheel of Black poverty is very low. I’ve outed myself on this very blog on numerous occasions. I never WANTED to be an unwed mother. In fact at the time of my first pregnancy, I had just come off of two years of committed celibacy. Unfortunately, I met a sexual predator, whose prowess was so magnetic that a year and a few encounters later, I was at Northside with staples in my belly and a baby in the NICU.

If pastors really want to tackle sexual immorality and keep women from become bruised, half eaten apples, perhaps they would do well to address the men who are doing the bruising and eating! After all, does an apple get up and walk into somebody’s mouth? Tsewww. Swine.

Men of the cloth have virtually NO idea what kinds of things men say or the lengths they will go to to get a woman in bed. These extremes are all a part of the cycle of shame in our civilization. Boys are ashamed to be virgins and girls are ridiculed if they are not. And because boys are socialized to be aggressive and reared to have a sense of entitlement, it only makes sense for them to run out and sleep with as many females as possible!

If these pastors knew the kinds of mind games and promises that the average run of the mill man makes to “young, unmarried women” they would easily fall prey too. But of course, they don’t have to guts to ask. I understand that they are doing it from a heart of wanting to see family whole and all that good stuff, but until they are ready to investigate and address the problem from all angles, wish they as a group would just shurrap on the matter!

So, Bishop Heward-Mills and all those who follow this philosophy that women should be “pure”, please go and talk to your sons. And to the business men. And to the radio presenters. And to the gateman at the Port Authority. Share your message of sexual purity with them too! As always, I am here to help. That is why I have created this instructional video. Taking a cue from the bishop, I too have used fruit to help me with my illustration.

You’re welcome.

Ehhh. Discuss.

What Do You Mean You’ve Never Heard of ‘Sex Shoes’?

I stared at the bride-to-be in complete astonishment. I repeated the question once more.

“Ah. What do you mean you’ve never heard of ‘sex shoes’?”

“Miss Malaka…I don’t know what that is!” she half wailed. She looked at her maid of honor for support. The young woman shook her head to indicate that she was also ignorant on the subject.

Children. I blamed the bride’s mother. She had not prepared the girl properly. There were only 2 hours left before she was scheduled to walk down the aisle to meet her groom, and not only did she not have a pair of sex shoes for her wedding night, she also had not purchased any bridal lingerie! We were in the store to buy her shoes to go with her gown (which she had managed to forget to purchase as well), but I was less concerned about that. The girl did not have sex shoes! I felt power leave me. I felt weak. Something had to be done, and fast.

sex shoeIt’s not often that I get to play Fairy Shoe Mother, so I took duties very seriously that day. After picking up a pair of pink ballet flats for the flower girls, some wedges for the young bride’s little sister, some strappy sandals for the mother of the bride and 2 pairs of heels for the woman of the hour, I felt life return to me. I had done some good in the world and I could enjoy the wedding knowing everyone was properly shod. Still, I could not ignore the fact that no one had prepared my young friend for life leading up to the moment when she would lose her virginity. I mean, it’s big deal right?

Zoe-Saldana-Bed-HeelsIt’s not like Bambi (that’s the name I’ve decided to give the bride) was going to be losing her virginity on the boys’ quarters floor in Accra with four strokes of a teenaged penis like someone else I know. She was going to have a hotel room with candles and clean sheets and the works! Losing one’s virginity is not like going to the supermarket. It’s not a mundane event. It only happens once in your life (not including the Lord’s miraculous repairing of hymen after some traumatic sexual encounter). It’s an occurrence that should be prepared for and celebrated!

Bambi does not wear heels. She has plantar fasciitis. I didn’t care. Sex shoes are not meant to be worn for an extended period of time. They are made to elicit a sense of fantasy, and are completely impractical.

“Sex shoes are to be worn from the bathroom to the bedroom,” I explained carefully. “I slide into them/strap ‘em up, strike a pose and take them off. Or he can take them off…whichever you prefer.”

Bambi looked at me with furrowed eyebrows as she slipped off her orthopedic shoes and planted her feet into the creamy satin and lace platforms that her maid of honor had picked out. Bambi wears a lot of black, we decided it would be a good idea to depart from the norm. We never got a chance to make it to the bridal lingerie shop. I saw the child leave her wedding with nothing but a shoe box, so I can only assume she improvised with a sheet (or nothing at all). You go, girl!

sex hairI took my query to the internet a few weeks ago and was appalled to discover that quite a few people had never heard of ‘sex shoes’. It is important to distinguish between a ‘sexy shoe’ and a ‘sex shoe’. Like ‘sexy hair’ (which is precisely barrel-curled and gently tousled) and ‘sex hair’ (which is often flat on one side, frizzy and disheveled), there are peculiar distinctions. Sexy shoes are practical. You can wear them to work – and with the right outfit – possibly to church as well. You will get compliments on a sexy shoe if worn in public. These will range from:

“Oooh… GIRL! Those shoes are hot!”

“Where did you get those shoes?”

zoesaldana107952119-419x591

And

“Oh. My. Gawd.”

However if one wears a sex shoe is public, reactions will likely be a bit more tepid.

“Don’t those hurt your feet?”

“Where you headin’ in those bad boys?”

sex shoe3

And

“Wow… Okay.”

A disapproving sneer may accompany these comments.

Finally, sex shoes should not be mistaken for stripper shoes, which due to their plastic/Lucite nature are ideal for pole climbing and vaulting. Remember, just because a woman strips for money does not mean she sells her sex for it.

stripper-shoes-dancer

I firmly believe every woman in a committed relationship should own a pair of sex shoes, even if shoes aren’t your “thing”. It’s always good to be prepared! Women love adornment, and it’s just as important to adorn your feet as it is your hair, writs or neck.

I owned a pair once. They hurt like the torment of hell itself, but my Father, were they beautiful. They were a round toe, topaz colored affair adorned with the plumage of some unknown arboreal creature. Gem stones dotted the straps. What outfit could I wear that with? And to where? It’s the bedroom alone, innit! My husband says he’s never seen them, and he’s right. They were a half size too small and I gave them away before I had a chance to use them for the occasion for which they were purchased! It’s hard to find sex shoes in a size 10.

Now that you know what a pair of sex shoes looks like, are you inspired to buy yourself a pair? Do you own a pair (or several)? What is your favorite store to shop for fantasy shoes? And if shoes are not your necessary accessory for the boudoir, what is? Discuss! ↓

 

 

Is Marriage The Silver Bullet to Ending Poverty?

There has been an interesting discussion brewing in social media about the benefits of marriage as they relate to “ending poverty”. It’s no mistake that this discussion is taking place now. We’re in an election year and politicians are pandering to their respective bases. Everyone, Democrat or Republican, wants to be seen as serious on the issue of poverty reduction, but as is to be expected, they cannot seem to agree on how to handle it. What’s even more frightening is that they cannot be seen as agreeing on how to tackle the issue. There’s a dirty word in Washington called “bipartisan”, and few politicians want to be called the “b” word.

The Heritage Foundation has termed marriage as “America’s #1 Weapon Against Childhood Poverty”, and for good reason. The statistics speak for themselves. Children who live in two parent households are less like to have behavioral problems and perform better in school. One in eight children with two married parents lives below the poverty line compared to the poverty of 65% of children residing in female-headed households. When you have a better foundation to launch from, it gives one the opportunity to build generational wealth. It takes three generations to build wealth: one to generate an idea, the second to perfect its method, and the third to propagate it.

The converse is true as well. A poverty mentality is generational.

Photo courtesy of Black Girls Code

Photo courtesy of Black Girls Code

As it relates to proliferation of childhood poverty, many have argued that this has more to do with the feminization of poverty than it has to do with the benefits of marriage. Women today make 72 cents for every dollar a man earns doing the same job. It is by no mistake that web designers and mechanics out earn daycare workers and teachers, despite the fact that neither job is more taxing than the other. Even in a society as egalitarian as ours (relatively speaking), there has long been a push to bar or discourage women from certain kinds of work or study – including math, science and mechanics – because it’s not considered suitable to their gender. It is only in recent years that there has been a push for STEM programs targeting young girls, especially African American girls, which I find particularly pleasing. No one has been more vilified and demonized for her poverty than the young, single Black mother.

It is well documented that poverty in the Black community was engineered by the American government. At its advent, it was stipulated that in order to get welfare benefits and social assistance, a poor mother had to be single with no male above the age of 18 (i.e. of working age) living in the home. Between 1960 and 1985 when the welfare culture exploded, under/unemployed Black males were driven from their homes to ensure the survival of their children. As a result, Black mothers took on the reluctant role of both mother and father and an entire welfare culture was created. It’s a daunting and humiliating experience. When I found myself pregnant and unwed with my first child, my first foray into the sordid world of welfare was to the WIC office on Roswell Rd in Sandy Springs. It’s as though every person hired in that office was screened for the ability to make a woman feel less than a failure, like she was born to be an intentional drain on society. I’ll never forget a blue and white sign that hung by the exit door that read “Get a job, so that your child will not be the next person on welfare”. I looked around at the young women: college students, retail and fast food workers, and para-professionals like myself, and wondered what they thought of it. For my part, I felt violently ill.

Isn’t it ironic that when a rural farmer applies for a government subsidy, he is not asked to put his wife out of the home to obtain it? Or when the CEOs of the banking and automobile industry went with cap in hand to the government for a bail out, they were not required to break up their families? But the government has no problem separating the families of the poor and colored. Interesting.

And no, we can’t blame this on one party or another. Both Republicans AND Democrats are guilty of the demise of the Black family. They created our nation’s dreaded Welfare Queens and crowned them with food stamps and SNAP cards. I wonder if they are proud.

It’s not often that I get to agree with my hardcore feminist sisters, but in the instance of marriage failing to be the silver bullet to ending poverty, I do. Marriage alone doesn’t end poverty: equality, education and opportunity do. There are many cultures in developing nations where marriage is a priority – the priority in some cases – and their poverty levels are far more abysmal than those of the United States’. If marriage alone could cure poverty, then all my sisters in the Serengeti would be flushed with wealth. After all, they marry them off young and circumcised, don’t they?

The best thing a woman can do for her family is to educate herself, travel, learn new languages and earn an independent income for herself. That is how we will reduce poverty in this nation and the world over. That is how we will build generational wealth…or self-sufficiency at the least.

The truth is we can do our best to manage poverty, but it will never truly be eliminated. Jesus said so Himself.

 

Mark 14:7 “You will always have the poor among you, and you can help them whenever you want to. But you will not always have me.”

Don’t believe the hype. Get married if you want to, but unless you’re marrying Ben Bernanke or Oprah, don’t assume for one moment that it’s going to zap all your money woes.

The Charmed Life of the Female Bowerbird

Men. They are SO convinced that they are at the apex of the animal kingdom; that by virtue of the fact that they are men, they are inherently superior to all other life on earth.

When a man encounters an animal that runs faster, swims quicker or is more ferocious in the face of conflict, what does he do? He builds a bullet or a harpoon to destroy the “lesser” being. This is the only way to secure his self-anointed status as the premier being of the animal kingdom! Every day, men set out to prove this idea to themselves, to their male counterparts, and to the women they are compelled to woo and despise for their need to woo. But for all their brawn and bravado, there is one being in the animal kingdom that the human male will never be more accomplished than – and that’s the Vogelkop Bowerbird.

Look at this. Look, I say!

That’s right. No matter how many nouveau mansions Kimora Lee Simmons allows Russell to buy her, none will EVER be as fabulous as the female Vogelkop Bowerbird. In fact, I don’t think there is a woman alive or yet to be born who could hope to have as attentive or dedicated a mate in the wooing process as the bowerbird. We may as well give up hope as a race!

Sometimes I look around on social media and listen to the complaints of men in awe.

Are you really griping because you spent fifty bucks on pizza and two movie tickets to see Captain America?

Bowerbird, niggro.

Dude, you want this chick to get naked and give you sex in exchange for what? Or yeah – that’s right – having sex in exchange for something makes her a “whore”, so you’d rather her be a fool and get nothing in return when a FREAKING BIRD spends two years gathering beetles of the same hue and building the equivalent of Jefferson’s Monticello by beak to woo a potential mate.

Bowerbird, NIGGRO!

Huh? You said what? Money can buy love because women fear poverty? How much money do you actually have? It’s not like you’re Bill Gates on your under $35K a year job. What can you really afford that’s of value? Oh wait, you don’t have to BUY anything to get love…you might try some freaking innovation, creativity and dedication to your cause as you immolate what? Say it with me:

A BOWERBIRD, NIGGRO!

About a year ago, I got caught watching videos of the male bowerbird and found myself quite perplexed. I mean, how was this possible? Female bowerbirds are single mothers and do not ‘need’ the companionship of the male. They only use them for mating and then live solitary lives. I’m sure this suits the male bowerbird just fine, but how is it that a bird can put so much more effort into getting laid than a human man who gets a college degree (at best) or sells crack on the corner (at worst) does? The bowerbird doesn’t turn around and complain about how much he spent on a date. You know what he does? He develops a number of songs in different timbres to attract the right female!

bowerbirdIt’s absolutely incredible. I think about how far the concept of romance has fallen with the advent of technology. I mourn for the hapless girls in my neighborhood walking to the corner store or the bus stop as scrub males lean out of the side of their cars, cat-calling and making obscene remarks at their retreating backsides. It breaks my heart. I know that in this 21st Century environment, they will NEVER be spoken to as the queens that they were born to be. We are not raising gentlemen in our society anymore: just ill-mannered dudes who broadcast their seed like rogue Monsanto germs on a windy day. I desperately want to run up to these girls and cry out “Take heart! Though you will never have the fortune of being wed to a bowerbird, you can at least hope for something better!”

After all, crows are very fond of stealing shiny things – such as tin foil and dimes – and bringing them back to the nest to boast to the murder.(That’s what a family of crows is called by the way. A “murder”. Why do black things have to be identified by so sinister a name?) If a man can’t be a bowerbird, he can at least aspire to be a crow.

I read somewhere that a bowerbird bower was once adorned with a chandelier that the male had built out of string, bottle caps, flower petals and twigs. And you’re really going to sit up here and complain because the chick you asked out refused to “give it up” right after you purchased the 2 for $20 fried chicken dinner? When was the first or last time you crafted something with your mouth? Man…You know what? Duck you.

Well Malaka, what does the male bowerbird get in return for all his efforts, you ask. Why should he toil and strain and slog just to win the affections of a female? For the same reason the human male does (or should), I suppose: To satisfy his ego…and because he is convinced of his excellence and is dead set on proving it to the world.

There’s a scripture in the Dating Torah that every woman should read and recite:

Seek ye the bowerbird

Consider his ways and choose your mate wisely.

 

Okay; fine. There is no Dating Torah. I made it up. But if there was, this scripture would be in there, right under Rules for Leaving Your Pubic Hair on the Toilet Seat!

 

Are you dating/married to a bowerbird? Would you want to be? Is it too much for a woman to ask for color coordinated beetle wings and vibrant fungus??? Discuss! ↓

Could You Marry a Man who Has Had HUNDREDS of Sexual Partners?

Whew! MOM Squad. This is the question that has been burning on my mind all weekend. I must unburden myself. In the process, I’m going to do my best not to disclose anything that might give this couple away in case they are watching this space, but let’s get into it!

I got a call a little over a month ago from a man who used to be a friend of mine. He was weeping. Sniveling like a child who’d had his favorite toffee stolen from him by the schoolyard bully. I rolled my eyes and asked him why he was calling.

“I know you’re going to think I’m an a**hole for asking you this, but I really need a friend right now,” he sobbed. “Can you tell me what you like about me, and what you don’t like about me?”

Que? Where was all this coming from, I wondered? And better still, why was he calling to ask ME? As he said, we were not friends, and he knew he had some gall asking me to be one to him in that moment. At his request, I rattled down a short list of his vices. He was a liar, a thief, he broke and made promises he didn’t intend to keep.

“But you’re a liar, above all,” I reiterated. “However I think you try to be a good person and you have a good sense of humor.”

What else was there to say? Nothing, for my part. He began to rattle off a list of what he thought his best attributes were. I sat and listened silently. Then he started to weep some more. He was afraid that he didn’t deserve anything good in life, that he had done so much dirt in his life that it would haunt him, and that he didn’t deserve to get married.

“Ah. This sounds like something you need to talk to your fiancé about, not me,” I retorted.

He was silent for a moment, until he concluded that he would talk to her.

“I think it’s important that you start your marriage off with honesty,” I advised. “If there are things in your past that are haunting you, and furthermore have you calling me for solace, then you need to talk to her about them so that they don’t crop up later in your marriage. You’ve hurt a lot of people.”

“Oh, she knows everything,” he said brightly. “I’ve told her everything, and she says she doesn’t care about the past. That’s why I love her so much.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” I replied sardonically.

I recently had the opportunity to meet my former friend’s fiancé by chance. The meeting was unremarkable. We shook hands, obligatorily stated that it was ‘nice to meet’ each other, and went our separate ways. Knowing him as well as I do, I had to wonder about her. She is slight in build, light skinned, shoulder length hair. There is nothing about her that is noteworthy. She literally could potentially commit the perfect crime and get away with it, because she so effectively fades into the scenery.

In regards to my former acquaintance and his lurid, rampant sexual past and his newest conquest, I know that there are a few possible scenarios:

i)                    He did not tell her everything about what he’s done in the past, and if he did, he glossed over the details without entertaining questions

ii)                   He DID tell her everything and she is desperate or unquestionably stupid

iii)                 He told her nothing at all and spun me a tale to save face. Telling her nothing ensures that he gets to keep his meal ticket, as I have come to understand she is quite well-to-do and he has a track record of depending on women to finance his lifestyle.

Could she really know that his man has had hundreds (and this is not exaggeration) of sexual partners, that he has a heap of abortions to his credit and kids littered about the country – nay, the globe – that he either doesn’t provide for financially or barely does at all AND STILL NOT CARE??? Why…because she “loves “ him? Well, this is America, and Black women actually are that desperate. So much of the Black female population suffers from emotional destitution that they become willing martyrs for the cause of gaining that elusive fairytale we’ve all been sold. I suppose this is why you can end up marrying a drug head, a wife beater, or a man-whore who has slept with HUNDREDS of women and still not care!

Good, heavenly Gawd.

I once had an airline stewardess give me a sage bit of advice. She said: “No matter who you are, you are somebody’s cup of tea.” I suppose she was right. You can’t be a king if you don’t have a court jester, can you?

What say you, MOM Squad? Is this too judgmental on my part? Ladies (and gentlemen too) would/could you be able to commit to someone who has willingly had so much sex – protected and otherwise – with multiple partners? Furthermore, what are you risking when you decide not to care about anything in your partners past? Discuss! ↓