Today, I want to be a White Woman.

Days like today I wish I was a White girl. Being racially ambiguous is not getting it today…

I looked in the mirror and where I generally love my overall outer appearance, today I loathed my large bulbous ethnic nose. My misshapen lips needed a lot of external help. My poorly guided eyebrows were anything but good looking this morning. My natural hair, which on most days I love, was anything but beautiful.

All I wanted in the mirror this morning was to be either a raven haired, blue eyed white skinned beauty or a blonde blue eyed beauty with a tiny waist and long flowing hair.

Oh yes, and a lot of money.

The plight of a mixed girl can be rather confusing at times too. We don’t necessarily fit in any one place. With any one person or people. Today, I want to be a White girl…not just ANY White girl though, I want to be a White girl with money. Seems to me their life is so much easier. Everything comes easier for a White girl with money….

Tomorrow I might just want to be a straight up Black girl. A black girl who is clearly a Black girl with all the curves in the world that will make the curvy street of Lombard in San Francisco jealous. A Black girl with full, beautiful hips, lips and bust line. A body that will make any man or woman drop their jaws in awe the moment she walks by. A beautiful Black girl with her own natural ethnic hair and a confidence that would blow your mind away. Money wouldn’t matter, because these women are strong. They have the mindset that NOTHING will stop them from attaining their own personal goals.

But for me, the mixed chick who looks in the mirror and sees the worst of both worlds today, none of that plays a part in my life.

Maybe I’m just having a bad day…

Or need an attitude adjustment.

[maybe one day.]

Maybe one day it’ll all happen for me; I’ll be dressed up in a flowing white dress being walked down the aisle by my Daddy.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to go through the painstaking process of planning a day that I’ll hold close to my heart for all eternity; a day that no one will ever forget.

Tomorrow I turn thirty. I haven’t accomplished a tenth of the things I had hoped I would by this age. I do have my beautiful daughter, but I don’t have that solid companionship. My daughter of course means the world to me, but lets face it, no one wants to live life alone or die alone.

Maybe one day a man will find me who will undoubtedly appreciate everything about me, my faults, my generosity, my love…..

me.

You see the problem lies therein. I seem to attract the man who of course is a good looking man, but typically a misogynistic cheater who loves me to a degree. A man who loves me because he might feel like he HAS to because of the good I’ve done in his life.

And here’s where I make my mistake, I love them. I love them with 100% of me.

Loving someone shouldn’t be emotionally draining nor should it be that trust is having to be rebuilt due to lapses in judgments and mistakes made.

To all of my exes: one day you’ll look back and see just how much of a keeper I really am. By then, it’ll be too late.

That said, one day I’ll be romantically proposed to because there is someone out there who genuinely will want to spend his whole life with me…and only

ME.

{that’s what you said…right?}

So true still.

diaryofamadmixedlady

From my recollection, I think you said that we clicked. You mentioned that we clicked…in a very good way. I saw the sparks…the sparks that could have potentially grown into a flame that would’ve burned for all eternity.

But yet you’ve chosen to call on me when it’s convenient for you. The time that we’ve spent together, regardless to how many times or how few, has always been nothing short of amazing. When in your presence you do make me feel like I am the only lady in the world that matters. You may not know this, but you do. It’s the little things you’d say to me that would tear me up inside and make me believe I’d found someone very special. Someone worth letting my guard down to get to know. It’s not possible to say, how could you feel all of that after knowing one another on…

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{The hoohaaa doctor was sexy. very sexy.}

Gynecological exams are not supposed to be comfortable or pleasurable in any regard.

Except when it comes to my experience. I absolutely detest going to the lady doctor not in anticipation of what they’ll find, but because I am laying there, on a chair thing completely naked with a stranger asking me to put my feet up in stirrups so they can take a peek at my vajayjay.

Today was quite different. I wore a pretty dress, just to make the process that much faster…less clothes to take off is what I say. I walk into the office, it’s pretty busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. The front desk ladies were very helpful and quick to work. Within a matter of minutes, I was being walked back to the waiting room…to sit and wait.

In anticipation of having a brand new lady doctor crawl between my legs and make their observations. I usually don’t get this nervous about these kinds of visits but this time my doctor was a man.

Not an old fat yucky man…but a TALL striking BEAUTIFUL young man. He had to be about 6’3″, muscular and tanned. His eyes were a beautiful cross between Elijah Woods and Bradley Cooper. He had an infectious smile that would probably melt anyone…

Yes, he’s married.

Yes his wife just had a baby…but what does he expect to happen when he’s a good looking man practicing medicine in a obstetrician’s office?!

Holy mother of Jesus this man was beautiful. I quite literally want to find any other reason in the world to go back and see Dr. McDreamy live and in person…..

I got a little afraid that as he was conducting his “breast exam” that I was slightly smiling…

I think I was actually. His touch was very gentle…and nice.

-_-

Power to the sexy hoohaa doctors….if any of you know a sexy vagina doctor, send him to this blog. Let them know they are appreciated… 🙂

{from the other side.}

It’s a new year and I can’t say that I am so happy.

2013 was a hell of a year; one of heartbreak, loss of family and impending sickness.

Where do I even start? Earlier in the year I lost my grandmother and my aunt. Two strong women who I held and still hold very close to my heart. The world lost both of these beauties within a two month period…It has been quite literally almost 7 years or so since I last heard my grandmother speak. We called her “Nan”. She wasn’t grandma, nana or any of the sort, she was simply known to us and close family as “Nan”.

Nan was a regal woman; a woman of such brilliant stature that no matter what room she entered, she resonated a royal flare that only those born into royalty can exude. Nan taught me how to read and write…and be good to people no matter what.

I miss her so much…

Sitting next to her now however, is her daughter. My Aunt Kaye. I have so many fond memories with her, I can’t even begin! From spending many summers in Charlotte with her, to being forced to polish silver with my cousin on any given Saturday morning before going out to play. Where Nan taught me to be good to people, Aunt Kaye taught me how to be a responsible person. Both of these women were like mom to me.

About a month before my Aunt passed away I went to visit her. I stayed at her house with her, went to church and sat on the front row with her. (much to my own internal objections because quite frankly, I think my dress was far too short to be sitting on the front row!) I drove her back home and when I was about to leave, she hugged me. My Aunt Kaye hugged me and told me she loved me…I don’t think I remember any time before that hearing her say such things to me and hugging me.

And then there’s this man. This man who came into my life-like a whirlwind. We were already friends before so he was nothing new. What was new this time, however, is that he was now living with me. I let him move in as a favor because I knew he had nowhere to go. And I needed a roommate. Never in a million years did I see he and I blossoming into any kind of relationship. He was a being a rolling stone at the moment and I was finishing up my whore phase.

A match made in heaven maybe?

As he stayed longer, I became more attached. I began to fall in love with him. I took him to meet my family (by his request mind you….) I met his family (who I absolutely ADORE!) and finally one day this summer, we decided to make US official. We became an item. We were labeled.

Things were absolutely beautiful…we didn’t argue. Of course had the normal disagreements, but nothing serious of course. He and I were so good together. And I loved him…I loved him more than I’ve loved any male counterpart in my adult existence. He made me feel so good in ways I didn’t think possible. I felt secure with him, like I could take on the world and no one would touch me. That he would let no one harm me.

I think he loved me too.

But where did it all go wrong?

He had a past that I didn’t know about. There was a reason he left his hometown years ago…to escape the demons within. However, those demons followed and he has finally succumbed to them. In his words, he’s gotten “caught up” in stuff…

…which means I am no longer important to him. He and I are no longer important to him.

The worst part about addictions is being the person on the other side. The person who loves them still…even through being drug through the mud. The person who sill wants to be by their side to help the other person overcome whatever addiction there might be. The difficulty of being on the other side knowing there’s absolutely nothing I can do to save him.

All I want to do is hold him. Take him in my arms, wrap him up and show him…

Show him I care. Show him that someone is in his corner.

Show him I love him.

It is even more difficult to be on the other side when everyone around you who may have an idea of the situation constantly tells me how I should live my life. That he never loved me….he never cared.

I do not in my heart believe that. I think he loved me….he just didn’t know HOW. Handling this situation alone has been very difficult. In part because I do still love him so much…and I want to see him well. But I don’t know where to begin to help him…

I just want him to know he’s not alone.