...and the truth shall set you free

I consider myself  a conscious woman. Not one of sainthood, perfection or deity, but a conscious woman. I understand life, reason and the yin and yang of life. More so relationships. I've done some dumb shit. Most in the name of love, and even in it's sheer stupidity I stand by everything I've ever did with not an inkling of regret. I've learned over the years that somethings about life and love lack rationale. That somethings are just done based upon what your heart feels is best. When it comes to everyday business and money I move strictly off rationale and what makes the most sense. When love is involved I let my heart do all the work.... and it normally doesn't make any sense, but dammit...it feels...so right.


I'm full of questions. The person I'm dating has to learn to live with this line all the damn time, "Can I ask you a question?" Whatever the answer may be it still will be followed by another question. Why? Because I'm an open book and the man I potentially give my goodies and heart to needs to be the same. I wanna know everything about you from where did you get that scar on your arm to where your nickname came from to do you prefer Family Guy or American Dad. Why? Well the real question is why not?

As women we become so enthralled in the man in front of us, the sexiness he exudes, the love he professes, his touch, feel and general manly awesomeness that rarely we ever get to know this "Adonis" before he lays down in our beds. Some of us have wrapped our lips willingly around a penis or spread our legs eagle for a man whose middle or last name was completely unknown to us. Simply because it felt something like love. We've yelled from the hilltops he was our man yet was never invited into his home. Or didn't know the full story. Why? Because of desperation. We've all been there. He's so great that you just gotta jump on it, things are moving fast and you just go with the flow even though shit just doesn't make sense. Now fast forward you've fell in love with someone that's not quite up to par. Or you realized that he was a cheater, or liar, or couldn't keep a job, or even worse all three. Then who is really to blame?? Only ourselves for not finding out the truth.

Truth is generally easy to find. It's never hidden very well. It's always right in front of you and when you realize that it was it has less to do with it not being visible and more to do with you choosing to have selective vision. True you won't get all the answers right away. Hell they might even lie to get you. But any smart woman has intuition. In retrospect there's absolutely nothing about my ex's behavior that shocked me. Why? When a man tells you he's cheated numerous times before you can't be naive enough to assume you're lucky number slevin, or that you are so much more awesome than these past women that you won't meet the same fate. I pulled out every sexual trick I had and though he was satisfied wandering penis remains just that.

  My current beau has passed many a test with me he has maintained a sense of transparency with me that sometimes I can't match or rival. We each lay ourselves out on the table and allow the other to determine if our idiosyncrasies, faults, and secrets are enough to run each other away. And that is what has kept me there these past few months when I knew I was scared of jumping into something too fast. When someone gives you the honesty you've so desperately craved......it's something amazing. New. Refreshing. A slow dive into someone's real world and knowing that what's in front of you is truly the real them. Does that make him a keeper? *shrugs* who knows. I will climb that mountain when I get there.

So ask the questions that are rattling your mind. Fear of being nosy is much easier to deal with than the pain of being deceived or hurt. Everyone deserves the truth....and it shall set you free.

Losing.....to Win?

Nothing lasts forever. You can't make someone love you. And being a good person is just not what everyone is doing.

 I have used Chocolate Girl Wonder many times to sing the praises of my relationship and cry the tears of the frustrating moments in it. Now that thus said relationship has been over for a little over six months I will use this entry to express what I've learned from my five year union, and most importantly what I have learned in these six months without (what I thought) was the love of my life.

 I'm a fairytale girl. I believe in forever. The flowers, the courting, the proclamation  of undying love, the down on one knee with the family watching, the stand by your man kinda girl. Forever in my head....meant forever. Even when the person didn't deserve forever. Didn't even deserve a now. So like all naive, good, overachieving women I chose not to give up. Unfortunately after accepting years of lying, cheating, and mistreatment the tables turned....and surprisingly....HE chose to give up. Talk about a broken heart!!!!! What a knife stab!!! Walked right out of my arms and into someone elses'. And this is what we call turning the rusty knife. That day, April 13th, 2013 I walked into my apartment after a crappy day of work to find the house rearranged and his things missing. As if the past 5 years were just a figment of my over productive imagination. His closet empty.....void of his possessions...leaving nothing but a keychain, the iron, and....the kick in the heart....a picture of me.

I could type for hours and never truly describe the emptiness I felt that day. I felt hollow as if the wind had been punched out of me and somehow I'd been stripped of my very soul. I was alone, single, and even though we'd ended it thousands of times, my conscious told me it was over...forever. Did I call, text, email and honestly damn near beg him back? Yep. My pride doesn't have a problem admitting that, because love will make you sit pride down, like a purse so you can simply fight it out for what you want. All that contact was pointless we were no longer an item and it was way past time I picked up the pieces of me. I felt a void in my soul. My apartment was so quiet I could hear my neighbors cell phone vibrate. The silence was disheartening. Truly the worst days of my life.

The realization in that was.... I got so caught up in an us that I forgot about me. I forgot what Valecia liked, loved, needed, and wanted. I forgot what I deserved. Was I the perfect girlfriend? Nope. But I did love without condition, wholeheartedly with every drop of me that was able to love. Truth being it wasn't enough for him...or better maybe it was too much. And maybe just maybe that love I was dishing out on him so recklessly....was practice for when the right man will cherish it. Does he still have a piece of my heart? Of course. I wish I had the super powers to turn my love off. It would be much easier on my heart, train of thought and ego if I could, but unfortunately for me I'm not built that way. He hasn't fully left my life of course. Like magnets we find ourselves pulled together in the most destructive ways, coming together like a molotov cocktail. Simply to remind ourselves what we loved about each other....and what we hated.

Everyday I'm reminded by Fantasia's lyrics, "sometimes you gotta lose, to win again"

And you wonder why we call you bitch: Females and friendship

Scenario 1: I'm in the gym working out and sweating my ass off. It doesn't mean a thing to me that I'm the only black female in the gym. I've been a member for a few months now and I like it. I'm quite comfortable there. I make an effort to smile or nod at everyone coming in even at my hardest resistance in those last few hard minutes. I never asked to be the welcoming committee I just do it, because I'm in a good mood and feeling polite. So along walks in two young black girls. About my age, about my height, and about my build. Lace front wigs blazing, false eyelashes fluttering, and long ass acrylics waving back and forth. Let's not even talk about why you would be in a gym with a wig on. As always I wave. They look at me, look at each other, and Give me a funny ass "who does she think she is?" look as if how dare I have the audacity to smile at them. Well damn. 

This look describes how I felt perfectly!

I am almost thirty years old. Which means I have had a lot of time to deal with people. I learn something new about myself everyday, but I have people (for the most part) figured out. I am a people watcher. I generally size people up for months before I really, REALLY begin to let them in. I watch for lies, reactions, opinions. What they say about others, do they take the blame for their mistakes or is it always someone else's fault, are they hard working or are they petty. Do they show themselves respect, do they respect me, and do they hold up their end of the bargain. Are they one dimensional in their opinions and views or willing to look at a picture in it's entirety. This is not what I look at to determine a friend. It's merely what I look at to see if you're even worth being an associate. This doesn't apply with women. Me attempting to build a new friendship with a woman is a thing of the past. 

Women are the nurturers of the earth. Emotional creatures that are known to be the most loving sex. But women can be some of the meanest, most trifling, cattiest, backstabbing, and jealous individuals on the planet. 

See what I mean????

Scenario 2: In high school I was apart of a clique. Not the mean girls type, but a crew of kids that were all raised in the same neighborhoods, elementary, middle and high schools all our lives. We had all the same extracurricular activities, and attended the same church. I didn't need to go looking for friends. I didn't need them. I had something better. A family. There were only two females in this group of  fifteen to twenty. We bumped heads here and there like any other teenage girls did, but till this day she is still my heart. It was the "other girls". The other girls who wanted to date my "brothers". The girls that had crushes on them and saw me and my homegirl as a threat. Or girls who didn't understand why we chose to hang with the guys. So we became all kinds of names. Hoes. Sluts. Nasty bitches. Not because we actually were. We weren't, but because the words helped these chicks sleep better at night. It couldn't possibly be that he didn't like you because your breath smelled like hot garbage. Or he didn't like you because you had a super unlady like cussing issue. Or better yet he didn't even know you liked him. It was always because those two bitches must be fucking him. Really??? I think not. Had you maybe took a moment to befriend me or perhaps get to know me I would have thrown in a good word for you. Now all my "brothers" are either married or engaged to some great stand-up women. Women who accept and appreciate the friendships we share with them. 

Scenario 3: I remember being a fresh, happy Sunday school teaching twenty-one year old college junior. I was in love with a man thirteen years older than me. He had seven kids and five baby mamas. (LOL I know that was dumb on my part). I thought we were going to be together forever. So I made a point to get to know his children and family quite well. It was odd and more than I should have gotten into at that age, but I always made sure I showed the mothers of his children respect. Besides whether me and him made it together or not those chicks were gonna be around in some way shape or form forever. So I always said hello, smiled, asked how were they doing. All of them on a face to face level thought pretty highly of me....or so I thought. One day one of the chicks felt as if the conversation she was trying to have with my then boyfriend wasn't as important as the fact that he was currently on the phone with me. "You can get off the phone with that bitch and talk to me please?" Really? I'm a bitch. Hmmm. ok. I had a baby mama (different relationship) once tell my boyfriend that she thought she looked better than me. I dated a guy who refused to bring me around his son's mother because she was that crazy. She knew I existed. I could hear her on the phone one time saying, "When you gonna let me meet ya new girl so I can check this hoe". I snatched the phone and gave Ms. Indignant a piece of my mind. That night was our last date. I don't play that shit. Apparently these are the things that make them feel better about me riding there exes into oblivion every night. Especially when I'm nothing, but respectful to these women. 

You can say that I'm exaggerating, but women are vicious creatures. Men don't try to throw a drink on a guy at the bar if he has on the same shirt as him. Men rarely (make that never) fight over women. Men don't give a flying fuck about any of that. Shit like that is such a small part of life and they are more likely to look at the bigger picture. Unless we are discussing bitch made niggas. Then it's a totally different situation.  Women have an innate fear of people in better positions. I believe everyone is like this to a certain extent. Females however are more prone to showing this trait. Anytime they see someone doing good, or having something they want, that person (usually another woman) becomes the "ultimate threat". It is too much like right to say, " That's a nice car go head girl". Or "Look at you you've lost so much weight congrats" or ___________________ (fill in space with anything positive that you rarely hear women say to each other). It's a tad bit easier for hater blood to run through female veins. I don't know why. It just is. 

Oprah and Gayle--lesbian lovers or NOT these two have done something phenomenal.
Maintained a friendship throughout the years. 

The Flipside: I don't think it's impossible for two females to have an honest upstanding good hearted relationship. As long as the two people involved are honest, upstanding, good-hearted women. That is the only way it will work. It's impossible if only one person is. I feel like the friends I have are the ones I have. I don't desire at this age to make any new ones. Respect however is something I give to every woman I meet. I just find it so odd how it kills a woman to give that back in return. I know this isn't the complete way of life, but it's what I've been seeing the most lately. However there are always a few positive people who don't get their just credit. 

Scenario 1: While sweating and panting on the stairmaster an older black woman with a neat little afro stopped and smiled at me. She tapped me to signal she wanted to say something. I hit pause on my ipod long enough for her to say, "Baby I see you in hear all the time". "Keep it up you'll be where you want to be real soon". I smiled and thanked her for the encouragement. Oddly enough she walked up and said that right behind the lace front duo. Maybe there is hope after all. Maybe. But I'm not holding my breath. 

The deal breaker

Disclaimer: I like to ask questions about relationships. I'm big into being apart of a great, loving, dedicated, faithful, and honest relationship. So I ask a lot of questions. Of almost everyone around me. Even at the age of twenty nine it amazes me on how much opinions differ. One thing remains to be true. We all have needs. Needs that if aren't met will send us looking for "the one" who can meet them. So just recently I asked my friends of facebook, "What is considered a deal breaker in relationships for you?" Me personally. I don't like a man with long hair. Well at least not longer than mine. But what is the one thing (or many) that will make you say, "Oh hell nawww" and pretend to be sick on the first date?


First let's flashback to hmmmm 1997, maybe 1998. I was a very impressionable high school student whose life revolved around my friends, school, my job, and MTV. My favorite show being The Real World. Boston to be precise. There was a black girl named, Kameelah on there that had a list of what her perfect mate would be.
 

It was extremely long. She wanted the best. Made sense to me. So I discussed it during bible study and sunday school with my sisterfriends. As a group we decided to make our own lists. And our Sunday school teacher would keep them until our wedding day. Needless to say....my list is still in her possession. Actually only one of us has received our list. *shrugs*  I however made two copies. As the years go by I review. I noticed the things that mattered to me at 17 didn't matter at 21. Or 25. Or 29. It makes me wonder. Am I just drifting out of my idealistic stage? Or am I just settling?

So back to my facebook responses. Everyone wanted someone with a job. Or at very least an education. And that makes complete sense. I will admit that my longest relationships were with men who didn't have the same hustle and drive in the job keeping department that I had. It made for issues. Serious issues.  Next was smokers. I have dated my fair share of smokers. I even momentarily became one. It is something that I don't like, but unfortunately I have learned to accept. My twenty-two year old nephew informed me that too much makeup and a woman equal to his weight or beyond is a turn-off. Some said lack of Common sense. Many women explained how a man not being able to accept their child(ren) was a no-go. I even heard things as simple as basic hygiene. And as complex as religious issues. "He doesn't have to be a church going man just open to a relationship with Jesus".

That's when I started to realize. What are deal breakers really? It's something we use to put a wall up between ourselves and another person. A reason to stop getting to know someone who for all logical reasons seems like a good person. Every person has a "flaw" something that is just a tad bit different about them. Let's just say that the men I dated chose NOT date me because I was a plus size girl. Or not date me because I was darker-skinned. Or not date me because I was a blue-collar girl. They would have all missed out on the ride and adventure that is falling in love with Valecia. I don't say that to toot my own horn, but honestly every man I have dated leaves that relationship a far better man because of my love. And just think me and these gentlemen would have missed out on a profound moment in BOTH of our lives had we stuck to the petty notion of whats's a hell no. I have dated them all. The man who wanted me to cook, clean, stay at home, and push out his babies. The man infatuated with my ass. The ex-con with seven kids. The broke southern gentleman. The jealous white boy. The Extra tall working bum. And The OCD Atheist.

 All of which had a "hell no huge deal breaker" sign on them from the gate. Most girls would have ran. But I didn't I stayed for the sake of the adventure. And perhaps my desire to find the one. And even though I'm not sure if I may have found him or not I do know that being so quick to say no just might leave you alone in life.

No one is going to fit everything on my list. Not even the 2011 revised version. The goal is not to focus on what things they don't fit. But decide how important are the things/characteristics that they do fit. When you think about it. Suddenly a sexy dread doesn't sound so bad.