ClevaWords

Take me out of the game

2017-01-22T08:57:00.000-05:00

When you think you have a grasp of your faith? When you think you've figured out what God is trying to show you? Just at that moment of Clarity, it seems like God moves you into the wilderness with the lions, small odd sounds, and darkness. It's as if you passed one test and they hand you another that you've never studied.

When you're running like Alice trying to get out of wonderland. I've been moved from faith to faith without a chance to look around and give honor to the moment and give thanks to God. I want to stand on talk of the mountain and plant my flag. I want to reach the end of the race and receive my medal and scream to the world, "Look, I did it". But that isn't my life. It never has been that simple I've never lived with long breaks from God trying to teach me lessons of longer-suffering, perseverance, and gratitude. There's always been a lesson around the corner. I've developed this attitude like an athlete where I'm looking at the next challenge like "Bring it" but today, I'm tired. I'm sure athletes take a break. They go on vacation. They rest.

I want to tell God I need to chill out. I need a break from the lessons. I need some mercy all up on me. I'm so very tired. So very tired. I can't think or move or do anything and yet I keep moving and doing. I'm still just surviving life and I don't know how to live it. There's not a lesson in this blog but just me saying, time out. Take me out of the game for a moment so I can regroup.

Call me Dorothy: Self Care in the Tornado

2015-05-20T15:22:00.002-04:00

I've had the intent of self-care. I've planned.

In the midst of crisis, its very hard to begin anything. Its like trying to clean your house in the middle of a tornado. It feels impossible. I'm still a mother and a grandmother in the middle of this self care journey. I'm still the leader of my org and a part of community orgs in the middle of this self care journey. My spirit wants all of that to stop for a month or even a year. I mean I don't want anyone asks me to do anything. Even more importantly, I don't want to feel obligated to do it. I just don't want to do it right now.

I know I need time for me and not in bits and pieces. I want to be selfish without guilt. Its the battle of many women in trying to figure this thing out. How can I be whole in this whirlwind of life's struggles. I'm committed to making sure that I stop and check in with me. I committed to allowing myself my tears and screams. I'm trying to be vulnerable and admit that I'm overwhelmed. I've learned that I can't push through at this point. I tried that and ended up sick, very sick. I must stop. Just stop. Check myself before I wreck myself.

I've had to come to terms that even though I lead an organization about women's health and empowering women to take action in their own well-being, there are days I don't know what that means for myself. Crisis after crisis, one episode to the next, I've survived but not lived. I believe my soul has been crying out for me to take over, fully and completely, without any excuse and without allowing the crisis and needs of my family jeopardize my well-being going forward.

Strength is an deceptive creature. When people see that you can survive, they don't check to see if you've overcame and recovered. This is the deceptive nature of being a strong person. I used to be ashamed to say that I'm strong. I think that I've always known the misconceptions behind this characteristic. Its one of those things when people say, "Oh, she's ok" or "I know she's got this". Meh, maybe I do. Maybe I don't.    Its not a question of being worried about a situation. I'm not going through "worry".   I'm faithful. So, I'm not worried about an outcome of a situation. God is good. (cliche, cliche....but real)

I'm in the same state as Black people living in America. I believe I've written a blog about the trauma and healing of African Americans from racism.   Its very hard to heal in the middle of abuse. We ask Black people to overcome in the middle of the tornado. Some can make it and some don't but no one is without some level of trauma. We each develop various coping skills. We have different support. We take part in our sanity, differently.

And I have to believe in me. We have to believe in us.   When my mom was ill and died, I lost my job, etc. etc., I worked out and changed my diet. I was able to put my focus on my health whereas its a struggle today.    So, there's memory. I know I have it in me. I have to look at what is different today and believe in myself wholly.   Its the same with Black America. We have memory of the Civil Rights movement. We remember that we fought and gained some advances (some). Today, the monster we fought 50 years old had changed its tactics. We killed Jason, we murdered Freddy, so we thought, but its still here, this monster, and we need new slick ways to continue its attack.

I believe I can. I believe I will. I can see there is more healing of my mental health that needs to happen to feel more confident in myself. That's real.   I'm a client of my own org, ironically. What advice would I give myself if I was in front of me?

Cry when you want to cry. Take a break without guilt.   Be kind to yourself all the time. Say no to loved ones. Move from survival to living. Say yes to Rhonda.

Make Sweet Love - Sexuality

2014-12-14T21:16:00.000-05:00

My professional life has been focused on the prevention of HIV in primarily women. In this work, I've had the opportunity to talk about sexuality from all angles. As we want people to be sexually responsible, we should encourage that they are sexually satisfied. Historically, mens sexual desire has been the point of attention. What a man wants, he gets sexually through consent, oppression, or force.   Men have been allowed to explore their sexual fulfillment in extreme ways. This, of course, is a level of oppression and its a social norm for many.

In my talks with women about their sexual fulfillment, I've spoken with women who have never experienced "the Big O".   Their sexual experiences were driven by whatever the man desired. You'd think that everyone is experiencing sex in the same way - like the last porn movie with moans and repeated orgasms. We don't teach our girls they are sexual beings. We teach them to be guarded, that their sexuality is a "gift" to be only given to someone special, and that they shouldn't be too sexually expressive. If we remove religion from this conversation, how does this benefit our society to keep women's sexuality so controlled and policed?

Teaching sexual health and responsibility doesn't mean we should suppress sexual expression. We need to teach that we are all sexual beings. We have deep attractions and sexual connections with others. We teach we must decided for ourselves what best keeps us emotionally and spiritually healthy as we decide to dive into our sexual selves. We have to stop teaching that sex is bad and stop using sexually transmitted infections as a scare tactic to keep youth from being sexually active. Being sexually healthy is being informed and being able to speak about sex in a wonderfully honest way. Fear isn't they to create a healthy mindset to sex.

In our sexual relationships, we have to be able to talk about it. Yes we need to talk about condoms and past partners but we also need to talk about kissing and touching and loving. We need talk about where those kisses should land. We need to talk about positions and fetish. Do you like porn or not?   Talk about it. Play with each other. Allow yourselves to grow together not only emotionally and spiritually in your relationships but bonding sexually. Believe me when I say that just because people are having sex, doesn't mean they are having good sex.

My love letter to Black people

2014-12-05T19:55:00.001-05:00

I see the black community different than some. I see a group who survives in the best way it possibly can under decades (centuries) of mental, physical, and spiritual abuse and terrorism. I see a people who constantly figures out how to seek out happiness and joy under scrutiny and judgment from the majority group and from its own. I see creative and inventive people who can make something from nothing over and over and over Some of us make it. Some don't. Some develop self hate. Our children are deemed less innocent and treated as such and then we are surprised when they grow up have a lack of respect for themselves or others. We don't receive empathy in regards to how centuries of terrorism - mental, physical, and spiritual- impacts our health and well being. We somehow are supposed to get over it while the whip is still swinging.

I see people overcoming. I see people trying. I see people succumbing to constant and persistent messaging and imagery of inferiority. What is interesting is that as the majority group believes we are super human and some of us believe we are as well. We have the super human ability to overcome this terrorism and "act right". We tell ourselves to "be good, be better". When one person does wrong, we are still tribal in our thoughts and see that one person's crime as a blemish on the group. It is US who rob. It is US who kill. It is US who rape. Our lives aren't our own. We are responsible for each others behavior but is that fair? Maybe its ok that we understand we are an reflection of one another. That is our connectedness.

I love being Black. I was raised see the beauty in us and have an understanding of how this system of oppression can and does destroy us. We need a better understanding of where personal responsibility meets systemic oppression. As I make decisions about my life, they are rarely personal. I, Rhonda, represent Blackness everywhere I go even when I don't want to do so. I have to think in terms of how does my behavior and choices impact black people. So, it is difficult to say that I can move through my life and it be my own. What does personal responsibility really mean when my actions are connected to my community at all times? This is another added pressure of being not only Black in America but being a part of any oppressed group. We have to stop the respectability politics and understand how oppression influences behavior. What about collective trauma? Racism is damaging to our core. A baby in utero is impacted by the racial discrimination experienced by its mother. Constant stress impacts heart disease. Violence impacts asthma. Racism isn't just a social justice issue but a health issue.

To my Black community, I love you. We are over-comers. We are a beautiful people who continues to fight through the constant abuse. I urge us to see ourselves as a powerful people with grand fortitude. We have been and continue to be a very forgiving people. Its very difficult to heal as you're being abused but we must to continue to strive for some healing and relief. The Black American is a people to be admired and respected. I'll continue to say over and over, I Love YOU.

Social Media: Keeping it Real

2014-11-13T14:58:00.000-05:00

Social Media is an interesting creature. ONLINE: We're all so brilliant. We're all so healthy. We all are so religious. We love our mothers. We are perfect parents. Well, I'm here to tell ya, not me. I'm flawed. I'm quirky. I don't like to go to places where there's a lot of people. Quiet is cool. Me and God fight. Me and my daughter just had a horrible two years but we're back being where we should be. I've been physically unhealthy for the past two years and it was causing some depression. I couldn't figure it out. I don't like to be deep, every damn day. I know what I know and there's a whole lotta stuff I'm clueless about. I'm a patient friend but I can shut you out without reason. I'm working on me.

I think Social Media is missing a dose of realness and regular. I'm down for folks working to obtain their goals and doing it out loud. I get it. I know that it can help others. I'm just concerned that we so want to put on the good face of positivity and perfection that we miss out on being human and honest with ourselves. We're so zoned in on shaping our online persona that I think we forget how to be ourselves. I appreciate my journey. I accept it all wholeheartedly. I'm never afraid to share the ups and downs of my day. Its a part of my freedom. ‪

I've witnessed some amazing displays of emotional neediness on Facebook in particular. I watched a woman document the death of a parent from the statuses saying, "I'm heading to the hospital" to the announcement of the parent's death. She posted pics of she and her sister receiving news about the parent's ill faded turn. She did video clips of thanking people on Facebook for their support. What was she getting from this? Without Facebook, how would she receive support and encouragement? What does it mean that we are seeking approval, admiration, and encouragement mostly strangers in many cases? Let me be honest. I will post a selfie of a new doo or new color of lipstick. So I guess, I could ask myself the question and I can't say I know the answer. I do recall being at a park with my grandson and I took pictures. The first thing I wanted to do is post them but then I thought why not just having them for me. This was our moment. The person on FB in Florida doesn't have to share this time. It was for us.

There are more and more articles being written about the psychological impact of social media on the self-esteem. We're being impacted and I don't know if we care. How are we free when we worry about what filter we need to use for a picture? How are we free if we are afraid of our failures and we sugar coat them with bullshit positivity. Sometimes positivity is bullshit. We have gotten caught in memes and graphics of famous quotes that tell us that life should always be rainbows. There's less memes about the rain and the storm. We learn in the darkness. We should accept and appreciate those dark times and understand that we need both the sun and the rain for all growth to occur.

I appreciate Social Media for all of the connections I've made. I've met people who have become some of my greatest friends. Its helped me with my nonprofit to reach women globally. It definitely has its purpose. With all things, moderation is key. There's no need to color your life with falsehoods to impress people. Have a fulfilled life offline. Connect with people in real time. Social media is a tool so use it carefully. Accept and love who you are because only then will you be free.

How Facebook Can Amplify Low Self-Esteem/Narcissism/Anxiety

I deserve

2014-10-14T15:20:00.000-04:00

We many times have to give ourselves permission to live life on our own terms . Its a difficult transition to move from living for the world and then remembering that you're a part of that world and deserve care, love, fairness, and honesty just as everyone else.

In August 2014, I became ill. I had pains in my legs that were hard to articulate mixed with the flu and a shot of lupron to reduce my hormones. I was miserable. It was very unexpected. August was the month to prep for a scheduled surgery in September. I had to make sure that my home was ready, that my daughter was ready, and my organization was ready. Nothing was ready. I found myself struggling to enjoy my trip to New York. I recall walking from Afropunk to the subway and wondering if I would make it. My legs were filled with pain. Hot flashes came and went with no summer breeze to help remedy my own private summer. Miserable. Something was happening. This something had been happening for a couple of years with odd illnesses and pain here and there. August was hell. I was frustrated. My plans were crushed to hell.

As I moved into having surgery, a total hysterectomy (removal of my cervix and uterus;still have my ovaries), I once again thought about how would I continue to maintain my life while on my back. Was my org going to be ok? Was my daughter going to be fine? I didn't ask if I would be fine or ok. God has a way of making you listen to her/him fully and completely with no distractions. In my recovery time, I remembered me. I decided that my healing mattered not because I had things to do but because I mattered and that was enough. CWUW will also be fine and its not fine, that's ok. People will also be disappointed and that's ok too. Those who love and support you, will do so. They will be there. And still, I deserve to have moments of doing nothing. I deserve to watch mindless tv. I deserve to long for dark chocolate. I deserve to experience life as I choose.

The removal of my uterus has been liberating. I have no pain in my legs. I have no pain in my hips. No more excessive bleeding. There's been a weigh lifted in my spirit and I didn't know it needed to be lifted. When God says to sit, just sit. Just do it. Be enlightened by the quiet time. Being busy is overrated. I want to experience the beauty of this earth as I still fight against the evil and I deserve to live that life on my terms and in full appreciation to all things God manifests. My mistake are my own and I will manage them as you should manage yours. I deserve good things. I deserve a good life.

My love is better than your love.

2014-06-25T22:17:00.001-04:00

The interesting thing about being a heterosexual cisgender Christian female who supports Gay Marriage is that I understand the Constitution and how it SUPPOSE to work in this country. As a Christian, it actually benefits me when religion isn't mixed with law. I'm allowed to believe what I want and how I want. The moment we ask the gov't to intervene in religious matters, there is a can of worms that's hard to contain. I understand the intention of the Constitution to allow the individual to pursue (or not) their own religious beliefs. Gay marriage does nothing to heterosexual marriage. NOTHING. You can still get married and divorce at the same rates you have been.

As Christians, you can still believe whatever you believe and follow whatever tenants you want. That's the beauty of the Constitution. Religious freedom means all have the right to believe in whatever manner you want, and worship whatever deity you'd like. Also, you don't have to believe in anything. Christian heterosexuals- nothing changed for you on this day in Indiana. You can move through your life with ease but we don’t get to tell anyone who to love. That was not the charge of your leader, the Christ. It’s purposed that we love our neighbors as ourselves. If you believe that biblically that gay marriage is wrong, it’s ok. You can continue to believe it but you don’t have the right to impose your religious beliefs on anyone.

Today, I’m very surprised that the ban on gay marriage has been lifted in Indiana. As a Christian, I’m very happy for those who get to gain governmental covering allowed for marriages. I’m grateful for my friends who wanted a public display of their internal feelings. As a Christian, I know that all I need to do is love. That’s it. This is a human rights issue and I’m sure Jesus would be for that.

2014-06-22T12:04:00.001-04:00

I woke this morning in good spirits and I remain there.

There's always a continuous fight for peace. People will try to rattle your spirit.

Fight. So no.

What is a Community?

2014-06-08T09:17:00.002-04:00

com·mu·ni·ty

kəˈmyo͞onitē/

noun

noun: community; plural noun: communities

a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common.

"Rhode Island's Japanese community"
    a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.

"the sense of community that organized religion can provide"

As a community worker, activist, or whatever label there is to describe the work being done, I wrestle with what is "community". We are all a part of various types of communities: religious, neighborhood, racial, sexual orientation, frat/sororities etc.   I will admit to being the most critical of my community labeled as African American. Because I'm solution based in my thinking and life, this is my expectation for this community I'm a part of because of my genetic make up, social experiences, and shared history. The expectation is no different than from other community I'm involved with in my life. I want to move and live in the Solution.

One of the most important actions one can take to bring about change and/or being solution driven is getting involved. What are you doing to address the issue? Something I learned in being a part of the HIV/AIDS community now and particularly in the 90's is that every person counts in the cause. I recall senior women baking cakes and cookies and bringing them to the center for the clients. One volunteer knitted beautiful blankets for the clients and she gave me one that I still have with me. Some can write checks. Others cared for our dying clients. It was the community that help to save lives for some and helped others die with dignity. Ordinary people doing extraordinary things.    We know that as a community of African American men, women, and youth there is a long history of standing together and fighting together. There was a community. I'm not going to say that there aren't those who still stand together and try to look at the current needs of this community and bring about a solution based response to a number of issues and disparities. We are here. We are trying. We are really trying.

What are some of the issues and solutions?

The amazing and yet sad thing about community work is there are just as many who are in this work for ego and praise. This prevents successful partnership and collaboration if you're more worried about the placement of your logo on the flyer than the work to be done. Getting "credit" and getting the shine for doing good comes organically. It comes. At the end of the day, its about outcomes. What needs to be addressed? How will we address it? Who will help us address it? What is the time frame? What resources do we have? Ego has no place. We all need to learn when to step up and just as importantly, to step back.

Another issue is that we only want to work with people who are our friends or family regardless of their work ethic. This is frustrating. Of course we should support our friends and family who have businesses who can do great work. We harm ourselves when we don't hold each other accountable for our outputs and deliverables.   We also do each other a disservice when we don't pay each other for our worth and work. Nothing wrong with a "hook up" here and there but shouldn't be an expectation. For anyone to be successful at any task, accountability is necessary. It should be given in a spirit of love and received the same way. We need to reach outside our circles of comfort and partner with those who are hard working. Every one doesn't have to be your friend to be your partner in a cause.

Lastly, those involved get to complain. Too many complaining voices but so few who are involved. Its annoying. Its troublesome. I hear African Americans talk about how we collectively have a "crab in a barrel" mentality. Ok, let's change it.   Let's move in a direction so this isn't just our way or reputation. We all have a place. Sometimes is just making sure there are baked goods at the agency down the street or writing a check because you can.   Be a doer. Change only comes with intentional action and movement. I believe that we have ancestral memory. History tells us we have always been together and we can't afford to break apart now not now, not ever.

window

2014-04-27T19:24:00.006-04:00

To think that you couldn't say what you wanted to say at the moment you wanted to say it
That time when you thought I should just reach out and say and feel and explore

this. whatever this is. this.

To think you looked in my eyes and I stared back and we knew

something. We knew that we knew

something.

But you couldn't say want you wanted to say at the moment you wanted to say it.
I never reached out. I didn't say a word. I didn't explore

you.

Maybe that time will come back around, over lap in space and we will have the right words, the right touches, the right something.

something.

If I.

2014-04-27T19:18:00.002-04:00

What if I wasn't alive?

What if I never as a twinkling of anyone's eye?

What if I never got to smile, cry, laugh, love?

What if I never got to see my daughter's face or see my grandson being born?

What if no one loved me?

What if I couldn't take another breath?

The What ifs....I'm glad they never existed.

And I cry....

2014-04-09T16:56:00.000-04:00

I've never been much of a crier. My sad moments have been normally just me locked away with music, a note book, and my thoughts. I'm a quiet person. I'm introspective. I feel deeply but to cry, no. At some point in my life, I decided that it wasn't for me. I don't know when. I don't know where but I decided to suck it up and deal.

My mother and my daughter are people of emotion. They value their emotions. They demand the right to express their feelings at any given moment. They feel it and you know it. To be a person like me around all of that energy all the time is draining. I felt I had to manage the results of the whirlwind of emotions that just swept through. I was the clean up lady. What was damaged by my mom's anger? How could I help my daughter through this new episode of an anxiety outbreak gone bad. How did I come to feel I had to manage other people's emotions? When did I become responsible? I don't know.

I have learned that I'm the queen of detachment. Maybe sexual abuse taught me that skill but I've learned to use it here and there. Even in being the clean up woman, I learned not to take in what was happening. At least, I thought that's what I was doing. Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking we got this situation under control. With more recent events, I've learned, I never truly had anything under control and even more importantly, I've cried. I've cried a lot. My tears have been hidden from others for the most part until I had a conversation with a friend a few days ago. As we talked about how I'm handling some of the issues in my life, the tears fell. I didn't want them too. I heard myself whimper. The tears kept falling as my feelings finally met the depths of my soul and the pain that has been there for years. I cried hard.

Throughout my life, I survive. I look for solutions to move on and move through and ignoring any attachment to a feeling or emotion. Who has time for that? Let's get over this situation or moment. We're not made that way. Those feelings have to go somewhere and for me, they were being stored. As I've gone through much stress related to my daughter's healing, its only compounded what was already there. This isn't all about my daughter. Its the lack of self care over the years. Its ignoring the pain of lost loves, deaths, and disappoints and always feeling that I shouldn't and can't cry. I remember going to a therapist about five years after my mom's death and him telling me that I haven't started grieving her death. I disagreed with him. I felt I did all that I was supposed to do. I did cry after her death but I also took care of everything. I made sure everyone was ok. I took care of the estate. I was also unemployed and I had just ended a 7 year relationship. There was so much loss but I kept on moving forward because life didn't give me a break and I didn't take one. You have to keeping on keeping on, right? As my friend told me, "Rhonda, you survive but you never recover".

Through my tears I've begun a journey of healing past wounds I thought had healed and assuring new wounds get their proper care. There are benefits to crying and I finally see why my mother and daughter fought for their moments to feel whatever they were feeling. To release all of that emotion into the Universe is rewarding. Going forward, in my walk through mental wellness, I will celebrate my tears and my deep cries and know that this is just a stepping stone to a healed soul.

A Journal Entry: A Mother's Love

2014-02-22T21:02:00.000-05:00

I haven't felt much like writing lately. 2014 has ushered in so much change and so many challenges and I know its all for my good and well being. I've struggled with what to say at this moment in my life when I'm taking on so much. Its as if all the things I've talked to women about for their lives is being tested in mine. I've always been very transparent about the battles I've had with bulimia, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I don't mind sharing my story because I felt it will help someone else but what if its your child. Its somehow different. Its rips my heart out. It forces me to rethink my parenting. I hurts my soul.

My daughter suffered from severe postpartum depression after having my grandson. It triggered her anxiety which also became severe. She didn't realize anything was wrong with her. She never had an issue bonding with her son but her anger was deep, her lows were very low, and our household was volatile. My home was no longer my sanctuary. It was hell. I didn't know what was happening to my daughter and our relationship. I would watch her cry at nothing, cussing me out about everything, and bawl from confusion. She had no idea either. The challenge for me was with her being an adult, she refused to see a doctor. We make assumptions about how we would handle these types of situations but you never know.

I tried to focus on my own peace. I continued my own therapy. I traveled to visit friends but my daughter was sick and I was confused to how to help her. Twice she attempted to harm herself in front of me and six weeks ago she did. In the middle of an anxiety attack, as I tried to help her calm down, she look a large cutting knife and cut her wrists very deep, multiple times in front of me. She felt nothing. I watched the blood stain her blouse as she continued to scream about her loneliness and fears. I rushed to her aid and as the attack subsided, she realized what she had done. Her heart was broken. She was scared and so was I.

I'm witnessing my daughter's fight for her mental health. Everyday we are working towards healing and its not easy. We are battling stigma, lack of services, and lack of compassion. In my professional life, I tell women that their mental health is just as important as their physical health. There is a deep rooted connection to both. I've told my daughter the same. I'm not trying to be her counselor or social worker but her mother. My daughter is healing. She is in treatment. I had to also check my own state of being after witnessing her detachment in harming herself. I believe that God allows these road blocks to build us up. Restoration is ours. Healing is ours. Love is ours.

Mental health services are lacking in so many of our communities. The stigma is so great that way too many want to ignore their own hurts and pains. We must encourage all people to seek out healing when there's hurt and be a support. My daughter has just begun her journey to healing and she has a team of aunties and friends to get her to where God will have her to be. I can't dwell on the fact that I witnessed my daughter's attempted suicide. I have to celebrate that she is still here. Let's work on our healing.

At this time, I have to give attention to myself and my family. The community work can wait. Its all for the love of my daughter.

Black girls: Who will hear us?

2013-12-20T17:22:00.002-05:00

When the Village Voice published an interview with Jim DeRogatis, a journalist who covered the R. Kelly child pornography case, I didn't want to read it. I assumed that the article would highlight Kelly as the victim. You know, the victim of these children or even better these fast girls. To my surprise, it was the opposite. DeRogatis gave us a peek into how deep the psychosis goes for Robert. I'll just say it. He's a sick person.

Prior to reading the article. I did look at his video called Cookie because this was the return of Kels. Its not different than most R&B videos. Women walking around in maid uniforms with garters. They are all there for Kels. He begins to sing.

Cookie, cookie, cookie, I'm a cookie monster
Break your back, crack it open like a lobster
Ayyy, I kill the p_y, dig a (grave)
She grab the wood like grippin (grain)
I told her put it in my face
Let it rain, let it rain (rain)

There's a reference or two to Oreos and more about having lots of sex with Kels. As someone who has grown up on Prince, explicit lyrics don't phase me. Its really about context. Knowing that this man enjoys the company of girls, the lyrics change for me. They disgust me. Its hard for me to detach the man and his music but I've learned through reading many comments via social media, its very easy for many. This is the man who called himself the Pied Piper of R&B. Oh the irony. The Pied Piper promised a town he would rid them of their problems with rats. The Pied Piper led rats to the water to drown. The towns people decided not to pay for the Piper's services. Angered, the Pied Piper returns, dressed as a hunter, and lures the children of the town to follow him into the mountain never to been seen again. After reading the article by the Village Voice, we know that Kelly has very typical traits of a pedophile. He lured girls into his web. He abused them. He is the Pied Piper. Maybe he knows himself better than we think he does.

What comes with trying to sort through what to do with R Kelly and his celebrity is trying to understand when will we get serious about violence against women and girls and specifically black women and girls. I recall Dream Hampton tweeting a couple of years ago about more black girls being accosted by black men than black men by the police. The response was amazing with women sharing stories about being approached by adult men when they were girls. Recently, #fasttailedgirls tweets have demonstrated once again, black girls have been shamed and abused with limited protection. What will it take? Who will hear us? I feel like I'm a broken whistle. My soul is tired.

I am an abused black girl. I buried the sexual abuse in my soul. Many black women have done the same because our cries have no place to be heard. Our cries come in the form of bitterness, issues with our sexuality, emotional eating, substance use/abuse, and depression. We mask ourselves with mantras. We constantly demand respect. We scream it.

R.Kelly and other abusers need help. They need mental health treatment. They need to acknowledge the pain they've caused others to our children. We need to stop protecting predators in our communities, in our homes. We become a part of the monster. We become a part of the abuse when we do nothing. I truly want to know, who will hear us when we cry?

The Devil Inside: My Battle with Eating Disorders

2013-11-30T10:18:00.001-05:00

The devil inside of me tries to survive. Its passionate about its survival. I am a host.

Fears. Abuse. Delusion. Sadness.

The devil inside of me has no fear of me. I allow it to live. Its a familiar monster. I know its face. I know how it moves. I know what it wants. I want it dead.

My devil as a name. Bulimia was its name first. It has become emotional eating or Binge Eating Disorder. I can't lie about it. Its a battle as any addiction. I wake up and ask myself how will I battle this devil today and it runs thought through my mind functioning like a bullet in a barrel.

I've lived with this disorder for 20 years. I'm still not "cured". This is work for me. This work has many battles to win before the war is over. Addressing past abuse, fears, and hurt is in progress. Feelings and emotions swarm around me as if to temped each new coping skill. That's that devil, Tricky Tricky devil. I fail at times. Sometimes I do win but this battle is tiresome. It relies on inner strength and hope. It uses my dreams of healing as a weapon against that dragon of deception. Its been a long battle.

Being a Black woman with a eating disorder comes with its own baggage. Its hard for me just to be alone in my own issue. Black women have believed wholeheartedly that Eating Disorders are for white women. We believe that we have a better sense of our bodies and a love for our curves. This keeps many of us with a disorder afraid to admit we have a problem. What is wrong with us? Why can't we have the same love and pride in our bodies as other Black women? That devil speaks all sorts of lies and those lies are loud.

My disorder isn't simply about body image. I wish it was only that simple. Being an introverted person, already very self reflective, having any trauma is going to live in my head space too long. I'm going to try to figure out why did that happen. So imagine, a little girl being sexually abused by not one but multiple people. Shhhhhhhhh....that secret is safe. That little girl kept it quiet and decided though to keep moving on. That seed of abuse was planted deep inside me. As much as I thought I was 'over it', that pain has to manifest. It has to find a way to be seen and heard. Trauma can never been silenced.

I fell in line with authority. My parents, aunts and uncles, school, or any authority figure were in control. They said it and I did it. I couldn't rock the boat. Don't make any noise. Follow the rules. The only way I found any freedom was in music and fashion. At the same time, there was a great level of love that came from those two things. My parents LOVED music. I could talk with my dad about it. We didn't talk much about anything else but I could talk with him about his love of it. My mom was a seamstress. We designed outfits. We would watch fashion themes shows on tv. They weren't being judgmental. I was free in those spaces. Free.

Understand that if I did anything "wrong" and my parents were just being parents and correcting me, it felt like a knife in my stomach. I needed the approval. I'd fall back in line. I couldn't be a bad girl. Nope. At the same time, there was an internal battle to just be myself. I'm still battling this question today. Who is Rhonda? My battle had me being sexually active, making poor choices in men, and had me needing some control. I felt controlled by everything and everyone outside of my mind. What can I have some contorl over? As this is going through my mind, I lost about 15lbs my freshman year of college and this little amout of weight really garnered praise from my family that I didn't expect. Beautiful, model-like, gorgeous were words resting on my ears. So, this gets love and attention? Understand, that's just the devil talking. My family loved me before and loved me always. I'm not a mentally healthy 19 years old. I've never told anyone about the abuse as a child. Its all spinning in my head and needing to show its face. This love I would accept. My body was the key to get this love. Without this body, no love.

Meet Bulimia. Hi girl. She was my sick little friend. I never used Bulimia as a means to stay thin. I worked out. Builimia helped with coping. She gave me my control back. Whenever I needed her, she was there to freely hand the control over to me. I felt I needed her. I felt that she understood me.

The game is this. You know you're sick but your sickness doesn't really want to be healed. Its not like a pain in our side. It provides some level of comfort. And, the drug of choice is food. Bulimia and Binge Eating Disorder are both connected with food and unlike being addicted to cocaine or alcohol, I need food to live. I have to eat. Abstaining isn't going to work. So telling someone with a Binge Eating Disorder reduce their intake of food doesn't work. An addict can't take the drug to cure the addition right? So what do we do? Therapy, Therapy, and more Therapy. I have to heal the little girl in me. She has to know that she's safe. Its ok for her to be loved on for just being. Mental wellness is my goal daily. My body isn't my enemy but I have to tell myself this almost daily. I'm not healed but I'm on the path to being whole for the first time in my life. That's amazing to me.

Black women suffer from eating disorders as we do with other addictions. No more shame. Its real. Find a therapist. Get treatment. There's both inpatient and outpatient treatment. I'm on my path to be healed. I can't expect to be better overnight because its been a long journey of mental self-destruction. I do know that the second half of my life will be greater than the former. I took the first steps to gaining my freedom from that devil inside. God knows I shall win.

http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/
http://www.ebony.com/wellness-empowerment/hidden-eating-disorder-450#axzz2m8pxyHUm
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/colorblind/201112/guess-whos-coming-dinner-eating-disorders-in-african-americans

Fresh to Death

2013-10-27T10:16:00.000-04:00

My beauty isn't up for debate or suggestion
I'm fly
I'm fly because I was made in the image of
flyness
My momma - fly
Daddy too
Can you question the flyness of the Creator?
My lips, eyes, hips
perfectly made
all you can do is admire
My beauty isn't up for debate or criticism
I'm dope
I'm dope because I was made in the image of
dopeness
My speak, my flow, my way
is undeniably
fresh

Single Black Female.

2013-10-24T13:33:00.001-04:00

I have been single for about 8 years. That doesn't mean haven't gone out on a date or a few or that I haven't had sex. It means that I haven't committed myself to a relationship in a long time. Most of this time my focus was working and raising my daughter. Some would say that I'm one of those single Black women who finds herself single and in her 40's. They would say that I've been too focused on my career and too picky. We know the conversation. We know the long cry of the single, Black, and female. I've had my conversations with men who ask, "What is wrong with you?"

What is wrong with me? hmmm......

I'm oddly traditional or old fashioned. I don't approach men. I don't flirt very well at all. I acknowledge that I can't read the "signals" if someone is interested. Maybe, this is why I'm single. (Kanye shrug) In all of my dating angst, I do know that I'm ready, now, to experience the magical dance of courtship, dating, romance, etc. Yes, I said I'm old fashioned. Courtship. I like it. Its sweet and gentle. It allows for friendship to develop and it is necessary for me. Who courts? I don't think many know the meaning. Relationships are complex and dynamic and as free-spirited I believe they should be, they should be a layered in simplicity if the two people involved allow it to flow.

In 2003, a 7 year relationship ended for me. It was 7 years of infidelity, some physical and emotional abuse, and womanizing. I came out of that relationship unaware of who I was anymore. I didn't feel attractive. I was lost in myself, my standards, and I was afraid to love someone again. I was a hurt person but never bitter. I haven't allowed it to fester in my soul to that degree but I was sadden by the experience. Until I dealt with this sadness, I couldn't begin another relationship, fully. I did try. I dated someone but only for a few months. I just wasn't in it. I refused to bring anyone into my world until I was ready.

This is where I think many women (and men) mess up. They move too fast back into a relationship. They don't seek the healing needed before moving to a new relationship. They become "bad ladies". Yes, Ms. Badu was so right. We have to stop dragging the bags around. We have to be okay with dealing with our own issues with relationships and love. I poured my life into work and parenting. I stopped being as attentive to my body. I thought I was dealing and healing but I was still hurting. I had to revisit all of my issues with myself in and out of a relationship. THERAPY. Yes, again. THERAPY. Talking it through. Forgiving my ex boyfriend wholeheartedly and loving myself just as I am, have been the best healers for the hurt. Without forgiveness, it is truly difficult to move forward. Without forgiveness, bitterness will truly find its place in your soul. Let it go. It wasn't the love you needed. Let it go.

The next step is to be comfortable being single. Live that single life for awhile. Enjoy it. Too many people are too fearful of being single or alone. Society puts unwarranted pressures on us to be with someone. Just even going to dinner or to a movie alone causes stress for some. I recall someone asking me why I was dining alone. He told me I was "too pretty to eat alone". I said, thanks but I have to eat, right?

I don't wait for a date to see a movie. Being alone isn't an issue. It shouldn't be for anyone. If we find that loneliness is the spark of our depression, then we lets face it. Seek treatment. Get some help.

Take responsibility for your healing. Be fair to the future by enduring the process of healing. Don't be a bag lady or man.

Now, love isn't scary. Love is a door to beauty. I believe love is for me. I will be in love again. I will give love again. When I became honest about my approach to love, my heart started to yearn again for a loving relationship. My openness speaks to the Universe and it will respond. I feel like Love does call my name, now.

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
― Rumi

The Rode to Happiness

2013-09-26T14:53:00.003-04:00

In talking with one of my friends last night, she mentioned my focus on my happiness and self-care. All I know, I will not repeat the past and I have to have the courage to deal with and heal from my own darkness. Nothing or no one will stop this process. I deserve the beauty of my Spirit to shine and for life to embrace me like a mother's hug.

I sincerely move in a philosophy that freedom is mine and that I must be fearless. I will never overcome my past in I'm living currently with fear and bitterness. I must apply my beliefs, my speak, my talk to my own life. Truth to power, truth to movement, and truth to happiness is the way. Its never about perfection but a love of self that is unmoved even when challenged. I give myself permission to be happy.

When I decided that my life will be different and I will be happy, I developed what I call my "freedom plan". I had to have action steps to regain my happiness.

I'm honest. I was/am honest with myself even if its not in a positive light. We cannot ignore our internal anger, bitterness, strife, etc. which holds us back. We have to be honest about who we are and were we are in our lives at any given time. Don't fear whatever monster you see. You have to know the problem to fix the problem.
Ego has no place and self-focus is necessary. In sharing our testimonies or our stories of triumph we need to stay humbled. The work isn't over. The Universe celebrates with you and hopes you're in a better position to address other external and internal barriers to happiness. Its about growth. Be humbled. Stay focused.
I returned to therapy. After a series of emotional and stressful moments came about, I noticed that I could not get a handle on them. Stress began to effect my body. I was sick. I was gaining weight. I've commented myself to therapy for as long as it takes with no shame or secrecy.
I'm accepting of love. I found myself rejecting love from friends and family. I was doing negative coping. If I rejected the love, I didn't have to worry about anyone disappointing me or leaving me. I rejected any potential romantic relationships. The thought of rejection was unbearable. Now, I've opened myself up to all love, in all forms. I deserve it.
I pray. I meditate. I believe in something greater than myself. My spiritual health has to be healed and nurtured.

Happiness is an internal journey. Self-care is a vehicle to that happiness. Be willing to take the ride.

HOPE

2013-09-26T09:31:00.002-04:00

I remember when I was unemployed, my mom just passed, & a 7yr relationship ended, I lost HOPE. I looked up the definition & meditated on it.

I posted the definition on a board and anytime I was sadden, I looked at the definition - HOPE.
We have to take control even in darkness.

Doing that was the way to cope with my circumstances in the best possible way. Doesn't mean I was healed but I wasn't destructive.

At some point in my life, I learned that I'm responsible for my emotions and my responses to life's ups and downs. What we see is that this isn't the norm. We are reactionary and believe others hold the key to our happiness and peace. Our culture preaches that peace, success, and happiness come from external things and from people. Be reprogrammed and believe you have Hope.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never is, but always to be blessed:

The soul, uneasy and confined from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

– Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

Objectify Women: New Way to Engage Pastors to fight HIV/AIDS - I think?

2013-09-12T10:14:00.000-04:00

Let me begin by saying that I wasn't raised in the Black Church. Its something that continues to keep me in a weird space of my own black identity. I understand the historical context of the Black Church and its importance to social justice issues of the past and some believe, the present. Anytime I attend any workshop, seminar, or panel discussion about the role of the Black Church in improving any aspect of the black experience, my participation comes with both a level of respect and skepticism.

Coming from the Catholic world of sexism, I have sharpened my eye to the role of women in religious settings. As a teen, I was told that I could not participate in the role of the "alter boy" because, well, I'm not a boy. My eyes were opened to how my vagina has its place and needs to stay there because God said so. Luckily, I never connected the treatment of women by religious institutions to my own beliefs. God isn't human and I can easily separate the two. I needed to move away from the rules of Catholicism. As an adult I decided to change my faiths. I joined a Black Baptist Church.

Out of the frying pan into the fire.

My skepticism remained intact. I've watched similar situations within the black church that I've witness in my catholic experience. The roles of women regulated, not by individual purpose or passion, but by dogma and doctrine. In both cases, women have partnered in their own oppression. This isn't to say I haven't experienced and befriended female pastors who lead their congregations with authority but I also know they have struggles with acceptance from some in their faith communities. When I see panels talking about church leadership, community engagement, etc., male pastors sit in authority. We maybe thrown a bone of having one female pastor allowed to engage. Its always clear its a male dominated sport. This isn't to say that I don't feel men aren't important in these roles but I believe in inclusion. Include us.

Bring a skirt to talk with pants.

So, I will again admit to not being fully cultured in the ways of the black church and its protocols. I believe in approaching a pastor as I would any person and I've had to be "schooled" and that's fine. I had not clue to armor bearers and deacons. I'm still learning. This is why I attend workshops on working with the Black Church. I respect its legacy. I respect that some believe its still very important to engage the church if you want change in the black community. While attending the U.S. Conference on AIDS, I attended a workshop on how to work with the Church in HIV/AIDS outreach. This was presented by The Balm in Gilead, a well respected nonprofit organization who works with the Black Church to address this epidemic. The nonprofit allowed pastors and healthcare providers working in Louisiana to speak about how they approach this topic.

In this workshop, there was about 65 attendees with 75% being black women. The first speaker was a pastor from Louisiana who has been successful in implementing an HIV/AIDS ministry. He wanted to provide some "best practices" in engaging pastors. I listened. I was open and ready to receive his message mostly because of the nonprofit who thought this was the best person who could talk on this topic. I listened. One of his first suggestions when talking with a pastor who I guess we are to assume would be male, is to "bring a skirt to talk with pants." My brained said, "wha?" and I looked at my colleage and asked him if I heard right. He said, unforunately, yes. The speaker continued. He said that men need to feel like they are helping a "woman in need" so playing the damsel in distress may work. He also reminded us not to send a fat "wobbling" woman (hand gestures allowed us to know what size a fat wobbling woman would look like) and to make sure she looks good.

Woooosaaaaaaa!

Now, understand, I was messed up by this but I was floored that at no point did any female stop him but a few "amen" and "that's right" were yelled. I will admit to sitting there. [Silence=acceptance] I'm full of shame that I didn't take that time to stop him. I didn't.

Again, I continue to see myself as an outsider looking in and the view is terrifying. The objectification of women should never be accepted. He pushed the view of the Pastor Pimp to another level and all of us accepted this. Religion, objectification, and social justice thrown together as a strategic plan has dangerous implications but was rolled out smoothly, backed up with the agreement of silence, and documented as a practice. In talking about black male privilege, the Black Church is where this happens most of all it seems. It is supported by those at the receiving end of its oppression and pushed by doctrine, tradition, and dogma.

What actions can I take? First, I'll never be silence again. Its generally unlike me to hold my tongue but this time I did. I know that I'm tired of trying to find a safe space for myself and other women and girls to be celebrated and respected. Black women and men have to believe first that sexism and misogyny are even issues to be addressed. We have to acknowledge it, call it out whenever we see it or experience it just as we do with racism.

As a cisgender African American heterosexual female, its my responsibility to address my oppression and understand my privilege. We all must do the same.

r.

Alice continues through wonderland.

2013-08-28T21:34:00.001-04:00

Its amazing how my mind continues to play tricks on me. It juggles my sanity as if in a circus, tossing each thought, each feeling about and around. I assumed my healing would be swift. I arrogantly felt that I will be fine after my 10 EAP sessions would be over.

I want to move to a healed state. Its in my mental illness where I think I can't still move through some aspects of life with a healthy view while still in therapy. I have to have one or the other. Therapy or no therapy. I have to accept that I maybe in therapy for the rest of my life on some level. I will have to be purposed in my healing.

Rejection is a big deal for me. It crushes my spirit instantly. Its a high functioning weapon against me. It stops me in my tracks. Its the demon I need exorcized.

where's the holy water?

My child is for me.

2013-08-09T18:39:00.001-04:00

One of the most challenging things in life is parenting. It has challenged every essence of my being.
Let me first say that I love my daughter. I love her humor and her laugh. I love talking to her about random stuff.

We've had conversations, situations, and events happen within our walls that no on knows about but us. That's a typical family. They're not secrets but just life. I've parented to the best of my abilities. She had chores, she was disciplined but Syd wasn't a problem child. She didn't back talk. She did what she was told for the most part. [She is still a human child.] As a young adult, we've had some issues. Its been very challenging. I'm not going to talk about the specifics of our issues but the responses from "outsiders" offering up their opinions.

First, I know there are many who care about me and The Kid. That's not the issue. Its the judgement. I've had people imply I've exaggerated certain things. I've people slip up and say that I've let Syd get away with things for most of her life. I've had folks say that she has been babied. When things are said, I don't go into defense mode because that's their opinion. Its limited. Its only based on what I've told them or what they've seen time to time. Syd is probably bratty. She was the first grandchild. She's my only child. She was the first child born to my crew of sister/friends. She got alot of love and attention. But is my parenting the issue?

I've got through all of the what ifs. I've blamed myself for this and that. What I learned about parenting Syd when she was younger is that this child has been given to me because I can handle this. I can help shape her. I'm the one who can have grace for her through even the tough love. Not my friends, family, and strangers who have offered their opinions no matter the motive.

I'm going through this with the guidance of God because this is his child. I've tried to be obedient.

I have to move away for anyone criticizing my parenting and look at what is this next phase of motherhood for me. I'm sure Syd would laugh at the notion of her "getting away with" stuff comments BUT that's their perception. I believe in restoration and healing for us. This child is for me and I love her through the troubles. Even when I don't like her, my love is stronger than ever. I believe in her. I believe in me.

Trust

2013-08-05T06:40:00.001-04:00

On Don Lemon, Race and "Respectability"

2013-08-01T20:48:00.001-04:00

Who will hear my cries?

2013-07-16T07:54:00.002-04:00

My heart aches for the family of Trayvon Martin. I've thought of my grandson and I've offered multiple kisses and extra hugs. There was moment when I then questioned how sexism has creeped its way into my psyche. I've only briefly thought about my daughter and her blackness and her safety. I haven't thought about - what if Trayvon was a black female and what impact that would have if Trayvon was my daughter. Could this happen to her? Would she be heard? What scares me is that these questions were secondary to my fear of what this world would be for my grand SON. My thoughts of how racism would impact my grandson and not my daughter speaks volumes to how we talk about the issue. I've been conditioned to think this way.

Black women and girls have to overcome both racism and sexism without fanfare or acknowledgement. Affirmations of our victimization rarely comes. Just to say that we have been victimized goes against the mantra of the "strong black woman" which we must recite and live to be a part of this society. It is our place. We must not acknowledge how racism and sexism challenges us daily. We must overcome. Right? The fact remains: I am a Black woman who has been a victim and more importantly, a survivor of racism. Everyday, I survive. I am a Black woman who has been a victim of sexism at the hands of my black brothers who deny that sexism is real for me. I survive nonetheless.

Enter Marissa Alexander. She is a Black woman. She was a wife. She was a mother to be. She was abused. She fired a warning shot to keep her abuser away and she is now incarcerated for 20 years. Where are all of the Domestic Violence organizations who continue to raise their voices about Chris Brown and Rihanna? Their interest was more about Chris than Rihanna but that's another blog. Where were the civil rights orgs when her case was going to trial? How did Marissa get lost in this? Are we paying attention now because we want something to compare to George Zimmerman and in this comparison, Marissa's blackness still outweighs her womanhood.

Do we care about the abuse of Black women and girls? Are we secondary? Who will hear my cry when I'm victimized? Do we acknowledge how racism and sexism adversely impacts women and girls? Is our attention to assist Marissa really about finding some justice for Trayvon to soothe our pain of that outcome? I don't know. I really don't. I want Black women and girls to be included. I want our pain and hurt acknowledged. I want our healing to begin and supported.

My heart aches for the family of Trayvon Martin and all of our sons. My heart aches for all of our women and girls who cries have gone unheard.

Rhonda.