#also i say this wit no disrespect meant toward any religious person

[nightlyponder]

today at job #2 a coworker was looking for and couldnt find any Kwanzaa books in the children section. he went to ask the childrens librarian, who he works under, and as they walked past i heard:

childrens librarian: they wouldnt be in the holiday section because its a made up holiday

my coworker: uhhhhhh

immediately hearin his brain clearly try to deal wit this white woman tellin him, a Black man, that a part of our culture was 'made up' i immediately said loudly "all holidays are made up". she replied with "thats true, i mean its not religion-based." which like...sure.

i personally dont celebrate it and havin learned its origins, dont care for it but the fact that people are so quick to claim something created by a marginalized group is "made up" and therefore worth dismissing is so fucked up.

[westywrites]

The End of a Not-Life

A long while ago, I had a follower celebration contest. For the winners, I am writing either short stories or poems based on the ~vibes~ of their blogs. Here is the first one.

This story is inspired by @yvesdot blog. Coming in at 1960 words, it is a musing on the power of choice and the roles we play in the world, featuring a vampire narrator :)

(Also, some characters are Jewish. As I myself am not religious, I did lots of research to try to accurately and respectively include this aspect. Please let me know if any of it is unintentionally disrespectful and I will eagerly change the story to take the new information into account!)

The End of a Not-Life

This night is no different than any other, as familiar as the leather notebook in my hand.

The neon-tinged gloaming of the city does not reach my park bench, my seat of observation. The sun will soon finish its descent, and the bars where humanity worships its mortality will disgorge their familiar stream of drunken patrons. It is the same in the twenty-first century as it was in the seventeenth, only the colours that light it have changed.

I sit as I always have, notebook and pen at the ready. Watching, waiting. Bearing witness with the city-bound trees.

Inevitably, a drunken soul will venture the shortcut down the dark path. They will come across the swing set. A joyous place of play turned sinister in the night; the familiar made unfamiliar. They will see the thing upon the swings. A child, they will think.

They will be wrong.

The thing on the swings will smile, wide eyes glinting in the darkness. And the poor, drunk human will know their mistake. Far too late. They will know then what it means to be mortal.

Beyond the sought-after embrace of alcohol, that is.

It is a simple story. One told innumerable times with infinite, inconsequential variations. Yet, I find there is so much to ponder in those variations. So I wait, I watch, I record. And another story is added to my study.

The creature-that-is-not-a-child knows I observe its violent tradition. It throws a knife-blade smile in my direction — a promise of a good show to satiate both our ancient hungers.

I raise my bottle in return. The ruddy liquid inside clings to the glass as it moves. Its warmth against my lips reminds me of when I was the creature in the dark, flashing too-sharp teeth behind painted lips as I delighted in the fear of my next meal. I bored of that struggle long ago.

It is easier to chronicle the machinations of terror without blood on my fingers to smear the words.

I wait, I watch. I run a thumb over the supple leather of my notebook. Familiar.

A blank page meets my pen as the story begins again.

Drunken humanity pours out under the twinkling neon. They shield their eyes from the brightness of the false stars.

The dark treeline must seem a solace. A sanctioned hold of the natural world, free from the glaring bright future. But the darkness holds worries that cannot be predicted.

Sure enough, one decides to brave the dangers of the dark. A woman with an unsteady, staggering step. Her taloned shoes are in her hand. Perhaps the alcohol has heightened her courage. Perhaps the desire for her safe, warm home makes the shortcut too great a temptation.

Whatever the reason, she steps out of the light and onto the path.

Her jacket is draped over her shoulders, bright red against long black hair. Red. I cannot help but smirk at the appropriate colour for what awaits her. She stumbles forward, and the neon glow relinquishes her to the dark.

She stops.

A digression from the familiar story, the woman stands still. Blinking. Thinking as she wraps a hand around her necklace. She is close enough that I can smell the alcohol that mingles with her perfume. Her heartbeat is steady; she does not stop from fear. Not yet, at least.

In my centuries of observation, the story has rarely changed. But the woman does not continue on her way.

She turns to me.

She smiles.

And the story is ruptured.

Her stumbling steps bring her closer. She places herself on the bench next to me, glancing at my notebook as I close it.

“Aren’t you cold?” Her voice rings through the dark, bearing little trace of the drunken state that inspired her to walk home barefoot.

“No,” I reply. Simply, coldly. I can feel the eyes of the not-child watching in the distance. The woman does not know she is prolonging her gruesome death.

“You’re writing in the dark.”

I nod.

“The park is officially closed after dusk.”

“And yet here we both are.”

“I was passing through, you’re sitting. There’s a difference.”

“You’re sitting now,” I point out. Perhaps she will realize my cold tone is a request for her to move on. To continue the story.

“I made a choice.”

An unusual choice indeed.

“You’re not talkative.”

“I did not come here to talk.”

“No.” She shakes her head, her dark hair falling into her face. A strand of it sticks to her lipstick, the same bright red as her jacket and dress. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want someone to talk to. A person makes a better listener than a notebook.”

I look at her, narrowing my eyes. “Do you not know how dangerous it can be for women to talk to strangers in the night?”

She laughs. Her drunkenness tinges the sound of that, at least. “I made that choice too,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

“And my choice is to sit in the dark, alone.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Or else you wouldn’t have been watching me.”

“I like to watch.”

She shakes her head again. “No one wants to be just the observer.”

“It is a choice that was made for me long ago.” I do not know why I admit this to the woman. Yet, I cannot help my fascination with this human who has interrupted my night by diverging the story of her own death.

She places a hand on my arm, removing it quickly when I tense. “We always have the freedom to choose.”

I scoff.

“The world tried to tell me I’m something I’m not, so I made a choice.” She gestures vaguely to her dress before her hand wraps once again around the silver chain of her necklace. “I make that choice every day, no matter what others say.”

“This is not that simple.”

She laughs again. “Who I am, who I choose to be, is anything but simple, trust me.” She pauses. Her lipstick stains her teeth red as she bites her lip. “What do you like to be called?”

Her question is so unusual, I respond only with a furrowing of my brow.

“I mean, what name do you like to go by?” Her smile is gentle.

“No one has called me anything for a very long time.” Why am I talking to this human? She is about to die; it does not matter what I answer. And yet...

The look in her eyes is somehow familiar.

“Why do you ask?” I do not know why I ask this either.

“Names are important. They tell you who someone is and tell you something about them. Chosen names do even more.”

“I still do not understand why you came to talk with me.”

This time, her necklace drops on top of her dress. A small Star of David shines silver against the shimmering red fabric. “I made a choice,” she repeats. Her smile shines too.

“What do you hope to gain from this?”

She shrugs. “A small step towards a better world.”

“And if I told you your part in this world will end tonight?”

“Is that a threat?” She laughs again. I am beginning to think I will miss the sound when she continues to the inevitable end of her story. “Well, I would tell you that, though I’m not sure how, I must have served my role in this world and there is a reason for my untimely death.”

I shut my eyes for a moment. There is no reason here, only the old hungers of older terrors, recounting the same old stories. I am sure I can hear the not-child growing impatient.

“But I’ll admit,” the woman continues, looking up at the tree branches above us, “I wouldn’t want to die tonight.”

The sombre moment presses down on me with all the weight of the sky. Inklings of private feelings are rising inside me, the feelings I must bury to bear this wretched not-life of mine.

“After all,” the woman turns her gaze to me, face lighting in a smirk, “it would be a shame to die right after I met you.”

I blink, and my memory paints over the woman’s face with the face of another. A woman from a lifetime ago who told me we did not need to suffocate under the weight of our dresses. She pressed a wooden Star into my hand and said, we are made in the image of God –an immaterial being, neither man nor woman. If I felt the same, did that not make me closer to God, therefore, not a monster?

She only realized I was destined to be a monster when she felt my teeth pierce her neck. Her body fell, drained and pale, at my graveside.

I am not the same as I was then. I know I am a monster. And the woman staring at me now is flush; her smooth, brown cheeks ruddy with liquor and life.

“We did not meet,” I tell her. “This is not part of your story.”

“My story isn’t over yet. Neither is yours.”

“We do not get to decide that. What we might want does not matter.”

“We do. It does.” Her voice is hard, determined. “If you do watch people, if you write it all down...” She runs a finger along the edge of my notebook. “You should understand that the choices we make, the things we want and what we do about it, that is everything that matters.”

I pull my notebook away from her. “The nature of the world will always overpower us.”

“The name I’ve chosen for myself is Aliza,” she says, standing. “In kabbalah, it signifies joy, the ability to rise above nature. I do everything in my power to prove myself worthy of the name.”

I shake my head. I am not meant to know her before she dies.

“I don’t know your name; I don’t know if we’ll meet again.” She looks out into the darkness and takes a deep breath. When her eyes meet mine again, they are alight. “But I know this isn’t the end of my story, and it isn’t the end of yours either. We get to write what happens next.”

With that, the woman - Aliza - turns and strides back to the path, shoes in her hand. Red jacket blood-bright against her black hair. She stumbles only once.

In the night, on the swings, shine the familiar eyes of the creature-that-is-not-a-child. It smiles, teeth knife-sharp and ready.

I am on the path, watching Aliza move toward her end. I do not know when I stood. The leather of my notebook is smooth in my hand. She cannot yet see what is coming.

In all my observations, in all my notebooks, in my centuries of studies on humanity and fear and hunger, the same story echoes throughout time. Lives lived and lives lost, as simple as that. Thousands of people who would be forgotten, the end of their story unknown. The choices they made at the end, all those slight variations… I have always thought myself a passive observer who knows nothing about the people I watch die.

Yet, one could say that in studying those variations – their choices in their final moments of life – I know all those people in every way that matters.

Now Aliza is walking toward her death. I know her name. I know her choice. My notebook is heavy in my hand; its pages filled with the very thing that made all those people human.

Suddenly, this is my story too. And for the first time in centuries, I make a choice.

[wisdomrays]

Essentials for Fruitful Criticism

QUESTION: What do we need to be careful about while making constructive criticism, which is an important means of seeking the better at everything, so that it will be effective and fruitful? What are the essential points to be observed both by those who make and receive criticism?

ANSWER: Criticism means criticizing a statement or behavior, revealing its negative and positive sides, and making a comparison between what is and what should be; it is one of the important scholarly essentials that facilitates progress toward the ideal. In this respect, it has been employed since the early generations of Muslims. For example, in the methodology of Hadith, a given report would be evaluated with a critical approach in terms of its text and the reliability of its chain of narrators. Indeed, criticism took its place in the methodology of Islamic disciplines from the beginning, in order to unearth the truth at issues such as finding the right meaning to be derived from Divine commandments and interpreting them correctly. This scholarly discipline of criticism served as a sound filter against alien elements incompatible with Islam. As the discipline of munazara (comparing and discussing ideas) also developed, the new interpretations that emerged as a consequence of fruitful discussions were also put to criticism, tested with established criteria, and sparkles of truth were attained in the end.

Particularly at questioning the reliability of the chain of narrators in the field of Hadith, there was a serious accumulation of literature. Numerous volumes of work sought to help authenticate whether statements reported as Hadith genuinely belonged to the Prophet, blessings and peace be upon him. But even while making judgment and evaluation at such an important issue, scholars showed the utmost sensitivity at refraining from excessive remarks. For example, Shu'ba ibn Hajjaj, one of the important Hadith scholars of the classic period who systemized the subject of criticism (naqd) for the first time, once used an interesting term while referring to the critical evaluation of narrators. Addressing a fellow scholar, he said, "Come, let us make some backbiting on the path of God," drawing attention to both the necessity of doing this vital task and that it must solely be done for the sake of God.

The method of criticism was successfully employed particularly during the first five centuries of the Islamic calendar in the fields of both religious and positive sciences, for the sake of reaching the most appropriate. Therefore, this scholarly method can be employed in our time as well, given that fairness, respect, and mindfulness are maintained. At this point, let's refer to the manners and method of criticism briefly.

Adopting a Fair Attitude and Soft Style

The issue criticized must be presented in a very sound style and utmost care must be shown at using a polite manner of speaking. That is, the criticism is not meant to evoke a negative response, but to be easily welcomed. When you present your alternative thoughts and plausible approaches for solving certain matters, you will be shown respect if you do it in agreeable politeness. For example, suppose that you are stating your opinion on a certain subject and the person you are addressing thinks the opposite. If you say, "This is what I knew about the matter, but I see that it has a different side as well," that person will likely come to you after a while and confess that your opinion had been more appropriate. And this time, you will respond by thanking that person for being so fair. In this respect, one should know how to—to some degree—dismiss one's ego, experience, and knowledge for the sake of upholding righteousness. In other words, if you expect the reasonable to be met reasonably, you should even evaluate others' not-that-reasonable thoughts within their own reasonability, adopt a welcoming attitude toward them, and form an atmosphere of sincerity where people can be welcoming toward truths.

Making General Statements without Targeting the Person

History has witnessed that, in whatever field, those who do not show respect to others' thoughts and who continuously dismiss others as worthless, ruin so many worthy things without even noticing it. For this reason, whatever is the nature of the element before us, we should adopt the principle of treating them all with a certain degree of respect. This is a very appropriate means of making people before us accept the truths that we present. Otherwise, no matter how great the projects that we offer, statements slammed on others' heads will not be welcomed. When criticism is not expressed politely, it will inevitably be received negatively, even if the matter that we criticize is an obvious mistake of someone that conflicts with the decisive and established teachings of religion. For example, you might witness that your friend has gazed at a forbidden sight. If you jerk into telling his embarrassing mistake to his face in a direct way and reproach him, he may respond by trying to justify some devilish considerations—God forbid! In particular, if the individual in front of you is not ready for a criticism of his attitudes and behaviors, then every criticism of yours will evoke reactionary behavior and disrespect against truths, or even make that person hostile against his own values. Even if such people understand what they hear is true, they will do their best to devise new arguments to get the better of the person before them, owing to the trauma of receiving that criticism like a mighty blow on their head; they will be continuously imagining the best way to answer the criticisms directed toward them, even when they retire to their bed at night.

Thus, matters need to be told indirectly, without taking individual persons as targets.Indeed, when the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him, witnessed a person's wrong, he did not directly criticize that person. Instead, he gathered people together and spoke about that act in general, which allowed the doer to hear the lesson. On one occasion, for example, a man who had been commissioned to collect taxes said, "This amount is the tax I have collected and these were given to me as presents." Upon hearing this, the Prophet addressed his followers from the pulpit and made a general statement about when he commissions a person to carry out a certain commandment of God and that person states that a part of what he collected belongs to the state and the rest is a present to him. To show how mistaken this idea was, the Prophet asked whether those gifts would have been presented had he sat in his parents' home.

The issue of who makes the criticism is also very important. If something needs to be told to someone, one should not be too eager to do that personally, but rather leave the issue to another person whom the one to receive criticism loves very much. In such a situation, even criticism from a beloved friend will be taken as a compliment. If it seems likely that a criticism you need to make will receive a reactionary response, you should leave it to someone else because what really matters is not who voices the truth but whether the truth meets with a heartfelt acceptance.

At this point it is useful to relate a relevant parable of the two grandsons of the Prophet, blessings and peace be upon him. Although this parable about Hasan and Husayn does not take place in the reliable sources of Hadith, it conveys important lessons.

Accordingly, the two boys came to make ablutions somewhere and they saw a man who splashed water all around but did not wash his limbs properly as required for a valid ablution. These two young talents of keen insight sought a way to show him the way without humiliating him. With this intention, they asked the man to tell them which one of them made ablutions correctly. They made ablutions exactly as they had learned from their blessed father Ali ibn Abi Talib, may God be pleased with him. When they were done, they asked which one of them did it better. With the ease of being free from humiliation, the man calmly replied that they both did it so well and that his own way was wrong. Therefore, it is important to reiterate that the style we use at correcting wrongs bears great importance in terms of acceptance.

Educating Individuals to Accept Criticism

Additionally, making people able to accept criticism and evoking a righteous feeling of respect in them constitute a separate dimension of the issue. The Companions, who had attained an ideal level of righteousness, could comfortably warn one another about any wrong that they had committed without causing any negative reaction at all. For example, during a sermon, Umar ibn al-Khattab, may God be pleased with him, reminded people that it was necessary to keep bridal dues (mahr) within affordable limits and told them not to ask for too high amounts. What he suggested was a reasonable solution to prevent possible abuses. Even today, an understanding attitude of this issue will definitely fulfill an important function at solving a social problem. While Umar was drawing attention to this fact, an old woman spoke up and asked the caliph, "O Umar, is there a Qur'anic verse or hadith on this issue that you know and we do not? The Qur'an commands, 'But if you still decide to dispense with a wife and marry another, and you have given the former (even so much as amounts to) a treasure, do not take back anything thereof' (an-Nisa 4:20), thus not setting a limit to the amount of bridal dues." In spite of being the caliph governing a great state that challenged the two superpowers of the time, Umar said aloud to himself, "O Umar, you do not know your religion even as much as an old woman." This degree of righteousness caused Umar to be referred as "al-waqqaf inda'l haqq" (one who halts when he meets the truth). That is, when he faces a righteous argument, he stops like a car that suddenly comes to a halt while moving downslope. It is necessary to effect this feeling in people. For this reason, we should make a deal with a certain friend and authorize him or her to comfortably criticize any wrong that arises in our personal attitudes and behaviors.

In conclusion, a person who intends to criticize, or rather to correct certain matters, must first understand the issue well and make a serious effort in terms of making the correct remark. Secondly, the other person's feelings must be taken into consideration and fathom whether that other person is ready to welcome what we are about to say. If a negative reaction seems likely, one should not think, "I definitely want to be the one who expresses this truth," but instead leave the criticism to another person whose remarks will be more influential. Considering the circumstances of our time, when arrogance has become so prevailing and people cannot tolerate even a little criticism, these principles have gained a greater importance. As for those who receive criticism, they should uphold righteousness above everything else and respond to criticisms with gratitude instead of reacting negatively.

[sisterspace]

A CAUTIONARY TALE AND MANY DREAMS DEFERRED

               On early Sunday morning August 16, 2015 my ex-boyfriend Lamar Davenport murdered his girlfriend E’dena Hines. The other day he was sentenced to 20 years in prison for first-degree manslaughter. It made headlines because she happened to be Morgan Freeman’s granddaughter. I have been having nightmares since she lost her life because I was very well aware of her. He made it official with her right after him and I ended so many years ago. There were many articles that poured out immediately after the murder but none of them touched on what really needed to be said. None of them took the chance to make a statement that would matter. None of them took the opportunity to make sure E’dena Hines’s death was not in vain. Unfortunately this type of crime happens every day, perhaps not as gruesome, but women are killed by people they were in relationships with every day, and there are usually signs. If we can learn to notice these signs then maybe we can prevent more senseless deaths. That is my sole reason for speaking out.

             I wavered back and forth for a while on whether I even wanted to speak on this matter. I am not interested in bashing Lamar (a lot of that has already been done). I am also not interested in defending him. He committed a heinous act and should suffer the consequences for his actions. My only interests are to speak to other women to help them recognize the traits of a potential abuser or an abusive relationship so they can get out, help individuals recognize those signs in their family member or friends so they can push them toward getting help, and to encourage those who are abusers themselves to seek help before they do something they regret for the rest of their lives. I feel my relationship with Lamar could serve that purpose. Many people who are in abusive relationships do not even know it. As with me, this could be happening in your life right now but the picture looks a little different than you expect so you may not notice it.

            I was involved with Lamar for approximately 3 years. We started out as friends and he eventually became my best friend. He was sweet, smart, attentive, and very religious. When we would hang out we would write songs and brainstorm ideas off of each other. My creativity was at its peak when we were together. He was able to make me feel like I was the most special person in the world. I do not know if it was real or not but out of all people I have met I think he believed in me the most, and I believed in him as well. His passion fueled mine. Even with such a positive impact on each other there was still a destructive element to our relationship. Often times our time together included drinking and getting high. Something I would indulge in when we were together because I felt safe with him. Whenever I would get too drunk he would always walk me all the way home. He could be a gentleman like that.

            One night at a mutual friends party I got so drunk I could barely walk without assistance. He wrapped his arm in mine and proceeded to walk me home like usual, but this time I noticed us going toward the roof instead of downstairs out of the building. I remember him laying me down on the floor so I could sleep it off, and waking up to him inside of me. I said to him “What are you doing?” He leaned down and kissed me and said, “It’s alright.” My mind couldn’t decide if this was sweet or was I being violated? But I never imagined violations being so tender. The mixed emotions caused tears to stream down my cheeks. I liked Lamar; in fact I had a serious crush on him at the time. I had imagined us making love one day…. just not that way and not without him actually being my boyfriend first. I tried to push him off but couldn’t muster any strength in my arms. He kissed me again as to comfort me and again assured me it was okay. So I relented. The next morning, not being sure if I dreamed everything I asked him “did we have sex?” He told me “yeah” with a huge grin on his face. It would be some time before I realized that’s actually rape.

             I convinced myself I had an equal part in that night due to being inebriated. So when I found out I was pregnant I decided to “give him a pass” because I loved him and felt he didn’t really mean any harm. The only problem is it later happened again. I say this to say; I have seen how Lamar could get when he is intoxicated so it wasn’t hard to picture what occurred on that fateful August night. If you are someone who notices that situations get out of hand when you get intoxicated then that is something you need to make the sober decision to stay away from. 

            After that night Lamar and I continued to be involved. I figured we had already had sex so we shared a special bond now. I grew more attached to him. As I fell deeper and deeper in love with him the more he seemed to resent me. He constantly spoke of his love for another woman. He was having sex with other women as well which I was in serious denial about. He made disparaging remarks about my appearance and in an effort to find out why he would not commit to me I would ask him what was wrong with me and he would tell me. There was always something wrong or something I was not doing. It killed any remnants of self-esteem I had. “At least he was being honest” I would tell myself. My mind was so mixed up there were times he would physically hurt me and I would end up apologizing to him. Even with all of that, he would always do or say something that would give me hope that one day he’d be committed and I would get all the love I saw he was capable of. I hoped him spending so much time with me would reveal to him that I was the one he needed. Sitting here older and wiser I say to all of the women reading this, if “hope” is a big part of your relationship, let it go. Hope isn’t real. Your relationship needs to be based on the good that is actually happening and not the hope that things would get better or return to the way they once were. If hope is the main ingredient of your relationship take the steps needed to walk away.

            One of the most confusing things is being abused by someone you love. No matter how much you are being hurt, your heart tells you to protect them. We must recognize this and fight those tendencies. One time he punched me in the face in front of his friends and a few days later they were pleading his case to me. “You know Lamar would never intentionally hurt you.” Everyone made me feel like I was overreacting. I did not trust my gut but went along with what was easiest to believe. If these actions mirror those of your friends, please get new friends. Your well-being should be any true friend’s priority. Do not allow anyone to stay in your life that enables your victimization. Also if you have a friend that you constantly witness disrespect their partner, ignoring it or “minding your business” is only encouraging them. Your speaking out maybe what they need in order to get help.  

            One of the things that could have helped me was the school we both attended. When he punched me in the face, instead of counseling me on abusive relationships the staff at the school made it seem like it was a mutual fight. We were not asked any questions to find out the dynamics of our relationship. No one took me aside to talk to me privately. The staff at the school let me down and it also let him down. This could have been an opportunity to teach him anger management techniques that would have saved his life down the line.

             I eventually became pregnant. I was so sick during that pregnancy that I loss the baby and my doctor told me not to have sex for at least 6 weeks. Lamar came over to my house that night extremely high and drunk and tried to have sex. I told him that I could not have sex for 6 weeks. That did not register with him and he took it by force. I was pushing and kicking him off and he overpowered me and had sex with me anyway.  After it was over I was crying and I said to him “You just raped me.” He was furious yelling “how could you say that to me?” “How could you think I would do something like that?” He was so angry that it made me feel guilty for hurting his feelings. I spent the rest of the night apologizing to him and doing things to try and “make it up to him”. This night resulted in my second pregnancy, immediately after the loss of my first one. I endured all the disappointment from my family and friends without saying a word. I allowed everyone to think I was just irresponsible because I wanted my child to have a father. If they were to view Lamar negatively it would turn into a huge mess that I wasn’t ready for.

              Despite us not being in a perfect place I looked very much forward to having my child. One day Lamar told me he would come with me to one of my ultra-sound appointments. I was excited because this was the first one he had been to. He was a little late but he did show up, but he also showed up high. His eyes were glassy and he was acting spacey. I was angry and disappointed that on such an important day with our new life he would bring old habits into the equation. I needed to see him grown up. I needed to see that he could be a responsible father and he was proving otherwise. When we saw our baby on the monitor it was magical and I saw his eyes light up. I knew it meant something to him. When the doctor left the office he started going through the drawers and stealing miscellaneous items. That is when I knew he would not be able to be a responsible father. If I had this baby I would never get away from his destructive behavior and I would be including a new innocent life to the equation. I could not do that, for once I was going to use my better judgment. I told that to Lamar and he said flatly “If you kill my baby, I will kill you.” Part of me believed him but I knew what I had to do. Aborting my child was one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. One I regretted until three years ago. I overlooked what he said but threats should always be taken seriously.

            What finally gave me the strength to leave was reading something he wrote in an online journal all our group of friends had access to, where he described having to “will himself to sleep with me” and how “ sleeping with me was good practice for the woman he actually loved”. Deep down I always feared he felt that way, but it was something about the public humiliation of it and seeing it in writing that cemented it into my heart. Truth is I should not have had to read it to finally get the hint. If only I recognized all the things that all lead to the same destination back then. But hopefully I can prevent someone from needing proof set in stone before they walk away. Your instincts are enough.

            There are many reasons a person maybe attached to a relationship that is not good for them. The up and down feelings can be so intense it is like adrenaline. The connection I had with Lamar was nothing like I had ever felt before. Even today, it is something that I look back on as uncanny. Most people do not understand me, but he got me. Being around someone who understood me without having to say a word was refreshing and something I desperately wanted to hold on to. It was so valuable to me and I never thought I could find it again. But now as I sit here in my 30’s I can say with over 7 billion people in the world there are many people out there who will understand you. It is all about being patient enough to wait until they come into your life. Your life is worth that wait.

            One of the saddest things in this whole situation is all the unrealized talent. Who would be open to Lamar’s talent now? And his talents were breath taking. He was an avid writer. In the years we spent together he had filled about 8 full composition notebooks with songs. Thoughts now run across my mind about his family and all the people dependent on him. He was great with kids and appeared to be nothing but a doting father. His immediate family adored him and he was very much the apple of their eye.

            So is this man who murdered his girlfriend in cold blood evil?  Is he crazy? Did he have some sort of undiagnosed mental illness? Was it the drugs? I don’t know. I have not examined him nor do I have the expertise to diagnose him. I can definitely say he was disturbed but we all just looked at it as part of his quirky personality. There was a lot of missed opportunity for us to get him some help. There were a lot of missed signs. I wonder if others are experiencing as much guilt as I am. We all could have done more to prevent this. He was a powder keg.

            After I got the strength to walk away from him a year or two went by when I received a text message from him out of nowhere. It was an apology. He said he was sorry for everything he put me through and told me I did not deserve any of it. His words seemed sincere. I had not pushed for an apology nor did I hold my breath for one, but I would be lying if I said it did not help with the healing process. It is difficult for me to see someone with remorse as pure evil.

            After his apology there was contact via social media but I stayed out of his life. Lamar is easy to love and a part of me still loved him, but I did not trust his ability to not let chaos into our relationship and I did not trust myself not to slip into the darkness with him again. I knew I had to love him from a distance. That was not easy for me so I developed a tactic to help give me the strength where there wasn’t any. I wrote down all the bad things he had ever done to me and all the negative emotions I felt being with him and I read it every day for a year. Whenever I felt like reaching out and calling him I would read that list and it reminded me what I never wanted to feel ever again. Eventually it got easier and I did not have to look at the list anymore. I suggest whoever is bound to a toxic relationship to develop different techniques that would keep them safe and keep them from going back. 

            A relationship should feel good. You should not feel like you are walking on eggshells, never knowing if you and your partner will have a good day or a bad one. You should not feel anxious that you may say the wrong thing. You should not have to maneuver around their moods.

            I must also say we focus a lot on the woman in domestic situations; teaching women how not to get raped and how to leave abusive relationships, but who is catering to the men? One thing I take from this is that Lamar should have had places to turn to. Men with anger issues sometimes do not know they have a problem because society encourages aggression in men so fits of rage are seen as normal. I would love to see workshops, classes and programs where abusers can go to get help without shame. The only way we end this epidemic is if we include men in the treatments and solutions. Just calling them evil won’t make any man get help, and our goal should be solutions. I would love to see men who overcame this affliction speak out and talk to other men and guide them on how they can rid their violent urges and become better men. 

            Friends and family should speak out when they notice this destructive behavior and when they do they should have a place to refer their family member to, to get help. So far in society we only work on half of the problem.

            I implore women to notice the signs and do not ignore the tales of other women involving your guy. They aren’t just “hating on you” or “mad that he won’t be with them”. I happen to know that E’dena was contacted by other women and in an effort to stay above the fray she chose not to indulge it. I wish she had.

            Lastly the focus of this article was about men abusing women, but abuse can happen between any gender and orientation. Women can abuse men, abuse can take place between same sex partners, inside the LBGTQ community and it can also happen within platonic friendships. Abuse does not discriminate. This is my personal story but I hope this is read and applied to whatever relationship is relevant and I hope it speaks to the heart and gives those who need it the strength required to find peace within themselves.

            As far as Lamar is concerned I would like him to get the help and counseling he needs. I would like to see him not touch drugs ever again. I would like to see him live with a clear mind. I would like to see him get to the bottom of his issues and understand all his mistakes and actively work to not revert back.  Most of all I wish healing for his family, healing for E’dena’s family and for her to be at peace and her life still be able to have an impact.

This can help if:

your partner tries to control your behaviour

your partner threatens to harm you, your pets or people you love

you’re scared of your partner.

Girl facing away from upset boyfriend

Key signs of an abusive relationship

An abusive relationship isn’t just limited to physical violence. It can include sexual, emotional and physical abuse, and may involve control of your finances. Here are some signs to look for.

Possessiveness

They check on you all the time to see where you are, what you're doing and who you're with.

They try to control where you go and who you see, and get angry if you don't do what they say.

Jealousy

They accuse you of being unfaithful or of flirting.

They isolate you from family and friends, often by behaving rudely to them.

Put-downs

They put you down, either publicly or privately, by attacking your intelligence, looks, mental health or capabilities.

They constantly compare you unfavourably to others.

They blame you for all the problems in your relationship, and for their violent outbursts.

They say things like, 'No one else will want you.'

Threats

They yell or sulk, and deliberately break things that you value.

They threaten to use violence against you, your family, friends or a pet.

Physical and sexual violence

They push, shove, hit or grab you, or make you have sex or do things you don't want to do.

They harm you, your pets or your family members.

In Need of Help?

[confessionsofaloudmouth]

The Half of It; a blog post by Chelbey Trump

Okay, so I kinda fell off the face of the Earth for the past 2 months. I was so dedicated to uploading on here, but then I felt it was disrespectful to post my own work directly after the death of George Floyd. I spent a few weeks educating myself by watching various documentaries and signing a ton of petitions. Of course, that didn’t take up all of my time. I read a lot, got a killer tan, and basically just procstatinated the idea of uploading on here.

But, today I have sparked inspiration! I am going to write about The Half of It, a Netflix original movie, directed by Alice Wu, and starring Leah Lewis. The movie was released on May 1, 2020 and has a 97% rate on Rotten Tomatoes.

Characters:

Ellie Chu; I saw so much of myself in this character, yet felt so much different than her. Like Ellie, I am witty and snarky and, yes, sometimes a bit of a smart aleck. On the other hand, Ellie was much more quiet than I, her family situation was unique, and I have never made money off of writing papers for other students. Ellie was the perfect main character for my favorite genre of a movie. She had the mindset of getting out of the small town, of wanting more from like. To me, she was very similar to Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower, which is my all-time favorite movie. She’s on the outside of everything, looking in, until a sudden move makes her the center of everyone important’s attention. I was worried she would live up to the generic, slightly rude Asian stereotype that so many movies choose to enhance. However, while her heritage played an important role in the relationship she had with her father, it didn’t take up the entire storyline. Yes, it painted realistic obstacles of being made fun of in high school and being different in the whitewashed small-town. Yet, again, it wasn’t all about how she was different because of her race. I think it’s important movies do that in order to highlight the struggle of POC in America, however, I think we’re all sick of POC main characters only getting a storyline that stems out of their race. Moving on, I loved Ellie. Her character arch was so delightful to witness: We watch her literally come of age, accept her sexuality and embrace the love she feels for someone else. I love seeing women become confident and happy with what they already have in themselves.

Paul Munsky; I think you all know I’m about to say he is the cutest character ever. Like, ever, in the history of...ever. Another storyline we always get is the POC sidekick best friend who provides the humor and never gets a deeper connection with the audience. However, Paul was a straight, white man and the story didn’t revolve around him! How delightful. Paul had his own subplot which I think balanced well with Ellie’s. I believe that it was testament to the whole, “You never know what someone’s going through.” It also provided the support reflected from Ellie that extended from just writing letters for Paul. His sausage storyline is super cute and it compliments well with his football player demeanor: He has poor communication skills, and he only knows how to make sausage because he helps work for the family business. However, hes bored with that life, so, as hes trying to literally spice up the sausage, he wants Ellie to spice his life up with a love letter to Astrid. In the end, Ellie helps him learn to be more of an individual than just another football player. I don’t the fact that he ended up falling for Ellie, however, I can see why he did. She was a light in his boring darkness, saved him from carbon copies. She saw the very best in him. How could you not fall for someone who helps you love yourself?

Aster Flores; I love, love, love, love, love Aster. She was the perfect mixture of girl-next-door turned art-nerd-you-never-expected. She wasn’t the weird, quirky, “I’m not like other girls,” stereotype. She sacrificed her personality for the sake of pleasing other people. She kept her own feelings, sexuality, inside in order to satisfy the people who looked to her for guidance, which was, conveniently, popular blondes and her own ‘boyfriend.’ Her dynamic with Ellie was beautifully tragic. I wanted them to fall in love so badly, yet I was perfectly okay with them simply being best friend. Yet, i guess, in a way, aren’t those sometimes the same thing? A best friend and a lover? Maybe Ellie was wrong in saying there was no perfect person for everyone... Overall, i want to see more of Aster. She didn’t really step out of her cocoon until the movie was ending. I want to see her in art school, flourishing both in grades and, ya know, sexuality. She told Ellie she had to find herself, and I want to see that happen. Sequel title: The Whole Thing. Idk, to me, that’s perfect.

Honorable Mentions; Mrs. Geselschap was on-point for the common, small-town English teacher. I always form deep connections to my English teacher, for obvious reasons, and I felt that connection with this character. Trig Carson was annoying and I hate him. His character was good, yeah, it paid omen to the gross, rude, homophobic, racist, jocks that attend every American public high school. That’s why I hate him... Mr. Chu was deeply symbolic for Ellie, but also just a comedic relief for the audience. The moments he was asleep, or talking during the movies, I saw the lovely dynamic of a broken, yet still close family that doesn’t really get displayed on television. Its possible to be missing a parent and still be a well-functioning citizen. Finally, Mr. Chu made me cry a lot at the end, so he gets extra brownie points.

Settings:

I was reminded so much of my little hometown, with the football games being the biggest moment of every fall, the cornfields stretching far and wide, and the usual, broken-down pickup trucks. I loved the detail of Ellie’s father operating the train system, which Ellie ultimately took over for him. That small detail was symbolic for Ellie, showing her that there was a way out and that she didn’t have to settle in Squahamish just because of her dad. In the end, the trains she directed ended up taking her out of town. The small-town aspect also let us feel closer and more deeply connected to the characters. They were exactly like every teenager around them, but tiny little aspects which made them unique- their love for art, their sexuality- made them stand out and gave their story more prevalence and relevance. All good coming of age movies rely on a geographically convenient setting, and this one worked very well.

Plot Lines:

Ellie vs. Other Students; Ellie didn’t care when they made fun of her. She wasn’t afraid of their bullying or even offended by it. She simply turned her cheek and literally helped them all by writing their papers for real cheap. She outshined all of the other students with her educational and musical abilities, yet she never once stood up to them or let that light do it’s thing. She stayed behind the line, opting to play her piano at the talent show. However, when those bullies broke the piano to embarrass her, Paul swooped in with a guitar and forced her to do her thing. Without even wanting to, Ellie showed them all up. She needed to do this, to cross the line without a big, grand gesture to fully become herself. Additionally, I loved that Ellie wasn’t even hateful towards Paul, who was seeking after the girl Ellie was in love with. She stuck to her devices, never wanting to hurt others or outsmart them by actually trying. It made who she ended up being a complete shock, yet it was comfortable, because they sneakily morphed her throughout the movie.

Family Dynamic; Paul was expected to stay small-minded by his own family. They didn’t care if he went above and beyond because they never pushed him to even do so. Paul wasn’t encouraged to do that well in school or social settings. He had a fate, which would be taking over the family business. Maybe that is what he ends up doing, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Ellie’s dynamic was similar, however, with her mother dead, she ultimately took over the paternal position while still a high school student. I felt angry with her father for not being strong enough to be a proper father- and, yes, mother- figure for Ellie. In the end, he found his way again. I liked, though, that Ellie was able to go on without her mother there. Her mother meant a lot to her, but her world didn’t fall apart without her. She carried her sadness as motivation to make her mother proud.

Homophobia; I know I was not the only one shocked by Paul’s declaration that Ellie was going to hell when she admitted to him that she was gay. I think this was obviously upsetting, but it was a true testament to a small-town, driven and united by religion. It showed that, though Ellie knew Paul well and they were really good friends, Paul’s religious ‘morals’ were beyond any relationship he might had formed. In the end, I was happy that he accepted her for who was she was. Homophobia is not excused by any god, including my own. It is with love that we begin to truly wash out sin and Paul was able to understand that. I felt sad that Aster was driven into the closet somewhat by the unspoken homophobia obviously laying in wait in the town. However, I do understand that she also didn’t want to come out because she didn’t really know herself, either. There was a nice balance of reality and self-assurance here.

Quote Corner:

“Love is being willing to ruin your good perfect for the chance at a great one.” (The entire scene where Aster and Ellie exchange paintings on the side of a building added 3 years to my lifespan, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m serious, I’ll cry.)

“How you could live in an ocean of her thoughts.”

“I’m like a lot of people which kind of makes me no one.”

B-Sides:

These were the songs which touched my music soul the most;

Overall Rating: 4.75/5

Literally the only reason I took off .25 points is because this wasn’t one of those movies I could watch again and again. Of course, I’m going to watch at least five more times within the next year. However, I only know 2 movies I can watch again and again: Tangled and Bohemian Rhapsody. Even then, I get bored after awhile. This movie was in my favorite genre and it satisfied every single detail required to successfully tackle that specific trope. It wasn’t cringey, though movies in this genre tend to be, and the characters were spot on without being annoyingly so. I want to see more of all of them and I’m hoping Netflix would consider a sequel. We shall see, friends.

Next time I decide to actually put effort into something other than a book or swimming, I want to discuss a classic: Mystic Pizza.

In the meantime, here is a Google Doc containing various petition links: https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwj7wKips77qAhXYlnIEHZiuCBsQFjAAegQIAhAB&url=https%3A%2F%2Fdocs.google.com%2Fdocument%2Fu%2F0%2Fd%2F1wtawPIxNuYuYlPTIBMxPe6jmaMSN7aH0pJO5x7cy4nc%2Fmobilebasic&usg=AOvVaw3MAVKPgC70UwkdV2rH2PlN

[worthyofluv]

Side Effects of D*ck too Bomb

Many of us weren’t properly educated on sex, the purpose of it and how to responsibly and respectfully engage in it by taking into account our health and safety, our emotions, the state of the relationship and what we want to achieve from said act. In my personal experience, the area where I missed the mark the most was when it came to having a meeting of the minds with the individual I was being intimate with. In other words, my head was in one place, theirs in another. I’m a vibey person, and so I often made the mistake of making decisions based on the chemistry rather than seeing the situation for what it really was.

Allot of us never got the infamous “talk,” but instead experienced the opposite. Whether our very natural desires were repressed and never acknowledged for religious regions or personal beliefs of sex being dirty or reserved for grown folk. Or maybe our caregivers were negligent resulting in us being exploited and unprotected at a vulnerable age. Residing on either end of the spectrum can show up in the form of disconnection, impulsive behavior, and choices being made by the ego, rather than from that part of us that be knowin. That part of us that becomes diminished over time as we become distracted by the daunting tasks of adulting; our inner guide. When we don’t create the space to re-parent ourselves, cultivate our own belief systems, and get to know ourselves on an intimate level, allot of suffering can come from possessing a false narrative around sex and how we relate to it.

Growing up, I can recall moments where I’d hear things like “you better not come home with no belly.” (black parents love saying that sh*t) or being referred to as a bitch and a slut when the word got out that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. I can even recount a time when I was told that I’d only be good for laying on my back. So naturally, I experienced allot of shame, but also became quite the rebellion. (No irony there)

I was also a curvy girl all my life. So as you can imagine, there was allot of projection and shaming around my body as well. Imagine the confusion that came over me when in 6th grade, this kid approached me to tell me that his boy, J.J., wanted to let me know that he thought I was thick. I had no fuckin clue what that meant because in my world, there was something wrong with my body. I was constantly hyper sexualized in spaces where I should have been empowered, uplifted and guided. But after years of peeling back layers of shame and anger, I realized that there was no time for any of that. We were in survival mode, and we cannot be taught which was not taught to our parents. Or maybe I’ve conceptualized the whole thing in my mind as a way to cope. Either way, I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.

After many years of social research, I now understand that when J.J. sent the homie over to tell me that I was thick, he was giving me a compliment and perhaps trying to use said compliment to segway into a boyfriend/girlfriend situation. That definitely went over my head. LOL

But the real reason I brought you here today is because I felt called to start a dialogue about how shame can play a role in our choices when it comes to sex. More specifically, the side effects when the D*ck is too bomb!

Let’s get into it ;)

These N***s are Actual Wizards in The Sheets

When the D*ck is too bomb, you might find yourself in a situationship for two years only for him to commit to someone else. And in an effort to reclaim what you thought was yours, you say “but I love you,” and he responds, “but I don’t love you.” (Ouch!)

D*ck too bomb might have you going back to a toxic n***a, even though you are cognitively aware that he is toxic, but you’re just hoping that he will experience a spiritual awakening and realize that you are the backwoods to his Mary Jane. Ha-ha. The joke is on you sis. He’s just not that into you. But that’s ok!

Side Note: In this context, what I mean by toxic is someone who is mentally and emotionally unavailable or someone who just isn’t into you, but rather than clearly and explicitly telling you that he doesn’t want anything too heavy, he proceeds to deal with you and your emotions in a careless manner. This is NOT for the men who are honest in their dealings with women, only for the woman to create her own agenda in an effort to get cuffed. That’s a separate conversation for a separate time. What I am describing is an individual who is unaware of himself, doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings, or someone who is manipulative. He is in it solely for his pleasure. Some might refer to what I call toxic as a fuck boy. But I digress.

Bomb D might have you responding with a sense of urgency when you get that “come thru” text, only to see a newly posted picture of him and his girl the very next day as you peruse down your Facebook timeline. (Really bro?)

You might get hoodwinked into becoming a WHOLE side chick all because the “vibe” was right. And now you gotta change your number because your goofy ass fell in love.

Great sex will have you falling for someones representative rather than who they are at the core.

Bomb D will have you ready to commit to a n***a who you haven’t taken the time to understand or even know if the two of you are truly compatible.

It’ll have you fighting baby mama’s in the middle of the street (so embarrassing) and acting a whole ass and doing things completely out of character to keep Mr. D*ck too bomb, hoping that he has a spiritual awakening and makes you his wife or whatever the fuck they do in fairy tales.

Bomb Diggity D will have you on the pill despite experiencing adverse reactions like depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation and no menstrual flow, just so he can have his way with you. 

Great D*ck could potentially have you settling for crumbs when you deserve a full course meal.

D*ck too bomb will have you thinkin you wit the shits, whole time you’re just a scared little girl trying to fill a void that was created in your childhood. (Sheesh)

A word: Being crazy isn’t cute at all. It’s a waste of energy, usually towards a situation that is either out of your control, or towards something that you knew all along was occurring, but chose to remain blind. Emotional intelligence, autonomy over one’s self and the ability to use discernment is sexy.

I am not credible

I am no sexpert or relationship coach, so understand that I am only giving you my perspective from my very limited sense of perception. I have however experienced the unflattering side effects of d*ckmitization, as a result of an overwhelming amount of unworthiness and emptiness bleeding into my adolescence and adult years. My only goal here is to help someone who may not have the language to describe what they’re feeling, and to show others that we’re all fucked up in some way lol. And that when we shine a light on our flaws, they can no longer thrive in the dark crevices of our soul. I truly believe that having these difficult conversations are a fundamental part of us becoming the most authentic version of ourselves. Vulnerability actually feels kinda cool (Thanks Brene Brown)

Self-Preservation Hot Girl Style

My loves, if you find yourself in the rabbit hole of trying to seek validation and love through sexual means, than he is not the one who needs a spiritual awakening. It’s you! You are the problem, but you are also the solution. It’s time to work on you.

I encourage you to find solitude for a little while. Get acquainted with your own body. Touch yourself. Consider being celibate while you gain clarity. Seek therapy. Get in touch with your spirituality. Explore your belief systems around sex. Are you ok with casual sex? Do you need an emotional connection? Can you be friends with benefits? Or do you prefer a commitment? What are your thoughts on monogamy, cheating, marriage, kids? In what ways do you identify with your femininity or masculinity and how does that translate in the bedroom?

Make having an intimate relationship with yourself a priority so that you can navigate certain situations with more grace and less confusion. Read books, watch YouTube videos, listen to podcasts, talk to folks who been there done that. Invest in self-care practices like yoga, massages and dancing to cultivate that mind, body and spirit connection. Make loving yourself a ritual and understanding your nature a necessity. It is from this place of being grounded in who you are that you can make choices that align with your true values. We attract what we are. And when we have not taken the time to understand ourselves, we risk ending up in situations where we are disrespected, but really, we are only disrespecting ourselves. On the contrary, being self-aware can spare us allot of drama, because when we are in our power, it really doesn’t matter how bomb the D*ck is if it’s attached to someone who doesn’t value us or at the very least care about our well-being. We begin to observe his character to see if he’s worthy of our time and energy. And if he isn’t, that’s ok. We make a mental note that we’re not compatible, and we keep it moving. Cuz it really don’t even be that deep.

Pun intended.

-Divine