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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 guard...

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 co...

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 con...

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....

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 do...

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.

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. ...

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.

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.

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...

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 wa...