Imposter syndrome

This is for black women:

Do you disqualify yourself when you meet a love interest and all your insecurities flare-up? Especially if the insecurities are based on issues like colorism?

This happened recently and I immediately started coming up with AAAALLLLLL the reasons why he could never be into me. It's crazy to think that I grew up feeling ugly solely on the fact that I am dark skinned and concluded therefore that light skinned men should not and could not be into me!

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"I disqualified myself from a chance at love"

I was thinking “Nah I’m waayy out of HIS league and I’m probably not his type 😔” And then to affirm my negative thinking I browsed through his IG to see who he follows and NONE of the girls he follows look ANYWHERE near like me 😒 Why did I break my own heart like that? 

I was dissapointed but I was honestly just looking to affirm the fact that he's not into dark skinned women. I started seeing a trend with this every time someone genuinely showed interest. First it was if their followers were dark skinned women and then it was also if they were skinny or plump. SMH!

Now let’s be honest here. A lot of things we do is to affirm certain core beliefs. A therapist I used to see helped me understand one of my core beliefs is that I don’t believe I’m enough or not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough etc. So I actually tend to get into habits, situations or behavior to AFFIRM that core belief about myself. So browsing through his followers affirmed the belief that I must not be his type.

The bigger truth is that I don’t think I’m “enough” to be his type- skinny enough, light-skinned enough, pretty enough etc... So the question is, how do I hold my confidence in who I am as a direct descendant of my ancestors who were philosophers, scientists, mathematicians, poets, storytellers, healers.... and also with the reality that I may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

Maybe the answer is somewhere in the middle (in my Carrie Bradshaw voice). I’m a whole package but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Him being attracted to other types of women doesn’t lessen my value; 

"My value is based on what I know to be true about me!"

I would love for us as black women to stop equating our worth based on the male approval.  I might explore how this dynamic plays out with black male approval later on.  

But even if he didn’t notice me, I’d still be a powerful black woman that makes magic happen wherever I go.

All to say, don’t disqualify yourself from a love interest just because you think you’re not his cup of tea. 

As long as YOU like the tea you're brewing, that's literally all that matters sis.

 

I hope you learn how to OWN YOUR AUTHENTICITY without male approval. Don't worry if you're his type, are you YOUR own type? And maybe after getting to know the person you might realize YOU'RE the one out of their league lol!

Anyway, I'll end my essay here...

How do you overcome self-disqualification? Comments are open.for black women only

Alors on Danse

Narrator: 

She snaps her fingers in unison to to the music and the bass drums.

He has been watching her from the sidelines. The way her hips sway, the smile on her lips, her animated facial expressions as she mouths the lyrics- she's lost in the music and her body translates into a language anyone can understand.

This dance class is more than he hoped it would be.

-----------------------------------

Darlene:

I can feel his eyes scanning my body. Does he think this is a free show? I snap out of my annoyance when the teacher says "From the top"

Then I glance in the mirror to see him still eyeing me. He quickly shifts his gaze. Its one thing to have an admirer and possibly put on a flirty show. Entirely different when they don't even have the courtesy to introduce themselves or smile. I was hella annoyed.

----------------------------------------------------

Jordan:

"Okay this part you will need a partner" the instructor says,

There is a scramble into positions and shuffling of feet. I beeline straight for her.

"Hi my name is Jordan. Please excuse my staring but honestly you're mesmerizing to watch. You get completely immersed. I'm tryna get to your level"

She releases a hearty peel of laughter and I can see that she's tickled at the idea of such a cute fan of her art.

------------------

Darlene:

I can feel my face heating up. Are we flirting right now?!! Is that what's happening? 

" Well thanks, you're not bad yourself" I retort.   At least he had the decency to finally introduce himself.

" This is a new years resolution so well see how long it lasts." He adds.

I smirk.

---------------------------

Narrator:

He wasnt expecting to meet anyone who would pique his interest, but here he was, flirting up a storm like his life depended on it. He decided if she was around more often he would definitely come around more.

"im Darlene, nice to meet you and welcome to DanceLife" she extended her hand and gave him a firm handshake; this was no joke to her.

Their introduction is interrupted by the teacher

' Alright i want you to decide who will be the lead for this next dance number'

The Journey 💨

The journey

Where I’m from, the tribes are many and the languages form a mosaic of unity-

The real wakanda 

Where I’m  from, family comes first at all costs – yes, even if it costs your health

Or peace of mind. 

Where I’m  from, family is all we have, family is what holds

Us together, and family is the retirement plan our grandparents rely on.

Where I’m  from, secrets are swept under the rug and shame eats away at family heirlooms

At gatherings we all laugh and are boisterous while underneath there is water eroding the metal

Where I’m from is completely different than where I am now and where I am going- and that’s ok. 

My Paradise

My yoni is like a castle set in paradise

Lush green valleys surround her

With mountains as far as they eye can see

Some curved edges to mark boundaries

But also the Scattered bones

of past lovers littering the ground.

They serve as a warning to any others who come for a conquest

My yoni is both delicate as a flower and holds the power to create or destroy.

Cascading Waterfalls are hidden in deep canopies that cleanse with each rolling tide.

My yoni is a paradise, a temple, a haven.

It has weathered many storms and seasons

Yet still stands, unshaken.

My yoni is a fortress, and a place of refuge for some

But I know now, not everyone deserves the keys to enter

My yoni is complex yet simple, and has many stories to tell for those who will listen and learn

My yoni is a beautiful willow tree that draws wisdom from its roots every moon cycle

I am my yoni and she is me.

We are one

And can never be separated again.

My yoni is like a castle set in paradise

And she is to be celebrated, cherished and adored.

Whole Again ❤❤

he touched me

And I thought I would be ruined forever

Then He touched me

And time stood still

He touched me

And I became whole again 

He touched me

And I was home 

He touched me

And my soul took flight

He touched me

And it was gentle

He  touched me

And the storm within me subsided

He  touched me

And the tears stopped flowing.

Sobbing like a babbling brook, tripping over every scar and wound

that had been left open

He  touched me

And I felt safe

He touched me

And I felt safe

He  touched me

And I felt safe...

You touched me

And reminded me what wholesome touch was.

You touched me and I saw

That I could be healed

You touched me and my truths

could no longer be concealed.

And even though you are long gone

My body remembers

My Black Is Not for Sale😠

A collaborative piece I wrote with another brilliant poet.

Dear white people,

My black is not for sale

So stop putting a price on it and tryna sell it to the highest bidder

Or package it nicely like some Thanksgiving dinner

My black is not for sale

So keep stealing our intellectual property and claiming like it’s yours- THIEF 

Stop acting like we weren’t the ones who taught you hygiene, mathematics, philosophy and architecture.

Stop acting like you did us a favour by selling us the American dream

Which was really all a lie so you could keep underpaying us while we built your economy, your schools, your nation... while our home was left unguarded and under attack

My black is not for sale

So tell your women to stop injecting their lips tits and ass so they can look like Sarah Baartman- they will never

My black is not for sale

So stop commodifying my culture to further your economy while leaving my people destitute

Dear white people

My black is not for sale

So stop spreading division through your colorist agenda 

My black is not for sale

So stop using token black folk to advertise your company when your company would NEVER let a black person be in a position of power

My black is not for sale

So stop looking at me like BBC and BBW are the only categories I can fit into

My black is not for sale

SO STOP COPYING ME 

My black is not for sale

So stop copying my flows and my verses, stop acting like you about that thug life when your privilege can afford you immunity from oppression

So stop incarcerating our men so you can get free labor

My black is not for sale

So stop using my people as quotas to fill to show how diverse and inclusive your company is

My black is not for sale

So stop killing us and harvesting our organs to sell in the black market

My black is not for sale

And it’s not something you can afford

See you got blood on your hands now

And no matter how much you keep denying that you are a beneficiary of the atrocities your ancestors committed, the truth will remain.

My black is not for sale

Dear Readers🙌

April 15th 2020

Welp...I haven't exactly found the groove to my blogging style but my method has always been in the form of a letter..mainly because I'm a hopelessly romantic Pisces that loves hand-written letters.😁

So..

Dear reader💕💕

Its been awhile since I blogged. I'm currently writting to you from a shelter. My beloved cousin Nzalu passed away last year and part of my grieving process is reading his blogs. It has re-lit a blazing fire towards my passion for writing.

He had a blog on wordpress (eww) but he was a BRILLANT and hilarious writer. I legit aspire to write like him. Im finna print off all his blogs and start highlighting his punch lines😆 ...I mean this guy was insanely witty and had a way of translating it into writing. He had a whole commentary about burkinis with word play. Brilliant I tell you. And apparently his sister would help him edit the blogs as well! I think writing is yet another thing that runs in our family. If you want to see for yourself what I mean, I will add the link below. 

In one of his posts he mentioned that he took a hiatus and would publish more...he never did. And that made me think holy shit I have at least 10 blogs I never posted,... What if I die and no one ever reads them..?😐

 

Then I saw this meme in my poetry group  that even if no one reads my blog, I should still write!  Same with my poetry, music and every other creative thing I do that goes unrecognized.

It begs the need to reflect as to whether we would create if we didn't have an audience or the prospect of one.

I will admit initially it was about views and hoping people read my work. But traffic on my page has slowed down significantly from the time I started. This is because I wasn't posting as often, but also because I was no longer writing to a particular audience ( predominantly Christian). But I see now how having a niche made a huge difference.

But even more importantly, I realized that my art/work is still important even if no one ever reads it.😁

Now...I have a couple more blogs sitting in my drafts that I've been embarrassed to post because lorttttt that manic brain is on a whole different plane of existence😩😬. But also the shame is part of a larger issue;the internal stigma about having bi-polar disorder that I strive to unpack.  I should explore that in another post sometime

But what's a blog anyway😩😩? An online diary? Lol ...I've matured in different ways since I started this blog, so this is out of my comfort zone not having some type of direction. Now its time to test whether that whole phrase "growth happens outside of your comfort zone" is real

I appreciate you bearing with me while I collect the courage to sift through past entries and give birth to a glimpse into my mind. 

Stay tuned for the next posts. They are some poems I have been working on 😁

Until next time my dearest readers.

Sincerely,

Lady Emm💅💖💜💫