Fatherless: How I identified Love

 

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Credit: tumblr

By the time I graduated high school  I expected to attend college, and leave my first high school love behind. I moved to another city and I was not prepared for what my high school love had planned for the both of us, so i reevaluated and made the decision to leave.  I went through a tough in transition, I really wanted to step outside of my shell and experience what life could be like without him, my gut told me that it was time to start anew. I applied to a university in the city in which I lived, that didn’t go as planned so I tried Jr college.  I didn’t know what I wanted, or how I was going to get there. Not only was I having trouble figuring out who I was, I was figuring out the male psyche. When I look back I was quite naive, gullible, and just dumb.  I never wanted anything serious since my high school breakup. I wanted to experiment, see what the universe had to offer. I wanted to find out what type of guys I was into, I wanted to find out if the guys I took interest in took interest in me. I met a few suitors but they just weren’t too my liking, there were phone conversations, meet ups, and make out sessions but nothing serious. I was just how do the old folks say? “Hot in the drawers” what 18-year-old girl isn’t? From 18-21 I was looking for something in every guy I encountered but I just couldn’t identify it. You know how they say every fatherless girl looks for their father in the men she chooses? Well I had no idea who my father was , I just knew he was a coward for l leaving me and my older siblings, so I accepted any attention that was brought my way. I identified love as intimacy, sex, a physical connection. I had no idea that love didn’t omit sex. I thought sex was the love. That’s what I thought the first time I had sex, he must love me enough to sleep with me right? He picked me, little old innocent me when he could be pursuing another other young naive girl, he must love me.  I didn’t know what love was, I equated love with sex and lust. I figured if I gave my body, a piece of me away that love would come eventually.

But the love never revealed itself, instead insecurity set in, lack of self-esteem stepped in, Shame and hate filled me, not love. I wasn’t given the tools by my father or any male figure on how to identify love. How could I have known? How was I to know what to look for? Not having my father around set in around my middle 20’s. So I reached out and my father and I started to build a foundation but it still wasn’t enough for me, it lacked substance and meaning. Reconnecting felt rushed. I blamed my father for every heartbreak. I thought “if only my dad was around to comfort me and pick me up after a boy broke my heart I wouldn’t be this broken this gullible”. “Would he defend my honor? Would he dry my tears? Would he say “baby girl daddy’s here I got you”.

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credit: mybrownbaby.com

 

I needed to hear him say it, I wanted to hear him say it, it was necessary. My mother could only convey what she felt about men from a woman’s perspective. She put up her best effort to guide me but the fact of the matter was I needed a real man, I needed a father. After a life altering transition my eyes became open to what men had offered, pain, heartache, and lies. My eyes grew wider with each passing moment, and as they grew wider my heart became cold and dark. My life no longer upheld light and serenity. My life became a place for depression to dwell. Through my depression came clarity, through clarity came self-love, through self love came, forgiveness, and after forgiveness came healing.

There were books that I read that helped me transition. Iyalnla vanzant’s “in the meantime”  and Elizabeth Gilbert’s ” eat pray, and love”.  A quote from Iyanla’s book really stood out she stated “When you need to be loved, you take love wherever you can find it. When you are desperate to be loved, feel love, know love, you seek out what you think love should look like. When you find love, or what you think love is, you will lie, kill, and steal to keep it. But learning about real love comes from within. It cannot be given. It cannot be taken away. It grows from your ability to re-create within yourself, the essence of loving experiences you have had in your life.”  I learned that loving thyself was the first step in healing. I had discard anger and resentment, I had to recreate myself in order to experience love. Our perception of love was distorted and unrealistic. I’m sure many black women who grew up without a father experienced so much worse than I did. I know many black women who have faced the same issues I have faced because we were fatherless. It’s a cycle that needs to stop. Little girls need their daddies in order to love themselves and to reciprocate love to a man. I know that my life experiences would’ve been a different  if I had my father in my life.

 

Why Friendships With Black Women Are Important

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credit: Insecure/www.giphy.com

We all have that ride or die girlfriend who we can call after a one night stand, a break-up, and when we want to get revenge on our ex’s.  We share our most intimate details of how we get down in the bedroom, and what their lover is lacking in the bedroom. We call to talk about shitty co-workers, shitty boyfriends, big dicks, little dicks, and so much more. But nowadays its very rare to find that one girl friend who you can trust and one that will ride or die for you. For me personally it’s hard to build friendships with some black women Everything in this moment in time is about competition, who has the best closure, the best job, more followers on Instagram. I have witnessed black women look at other black with so much hate and distain as they walk past each other.” look at her she think she all dat with them fake ass lashes” “Girrrrl you need to see this bitch walking up in here like she Beyoncé, she is not cute”.

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I admit I have said some of these things and I have heard them to but I had to step back and look at myself and figure out what I didn’t like about myself and what was missing with in me. Why hate on another black woman who is doing her thing? Why not compliment a sista when she looks bad as hell in a dress or pantsuit? just tell her, when you see she is taking care of her business and running her own shit, tell her, when that closure is sewed in tight and the contour is on point TELL HER!!! . We as women have to be secure in our own world and in our own bodies. I’m curious to see how black women in slavery days got along with one another. I would assume they took care of each other because they were all fighting for the same purpose. As woman we also have the right to have other women in our lives to help with emotional and mental stressors. Issa rae from the hit show “Insecure” shared why friendships with between black woman are important . In her interview with  essence magazine she stated “I think for such a long time, I just was not seeing great black female friendships on television. It was constantly about tearing one another down or throwing shade. There are elements of that, but for the most part, black women are essential to my life.” (essence magazine April 2017)

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What happened to tight friendships that were represented on the hit Show “Girlfriends”? “living single”? hell, even my favorite “The Golden Girls”? why is it so hard to connect? What are we showing the younger generation about black women and friendships? let alone relationships in general? Why is it so hard to initiate friendships with women as we get older? We still have the same friends we had and elementary, middle school and high school and that’s great. But what happens when friends grow apart because of life circumstances? a new baby, marriage, busy work schedule, a busy school schedule? why can’t we ignite new friendships? how can we connect?  how can we meet new sista friends without coming into it with so much negativity and apprehension.

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It starts with realizing that as black women we already face many adversities. As black women we are not able to enjoy casual sex without us being called a whore. The job market in some ways are still male dominated.  Black women need to unify, we would come out much better if and much stronger if we participate and make a joint effort. We must not hate on our sistas, we cannot divide, we can’t disconnect. When you spot a single mother who is carrying a baby in one hand and grocery bags in the other, help her, compliment her on what a wonderful job she is doing and strong she must be. If you see a black woman with her own business in your community support her.  So the next time you see a black woman doing her thing, looking good, and holding her head high don’t take it as she is conceited or cocky, but confident. Compliment her, help her become the best woman she can be.  If you’re accepting a compliment give thanks and appreciate the sincerity.  The less hate, the more love we can give to ourselves and to each other.

 

The Visit

 

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credit: madamnoire.com

I woke up this morning, and I was feeling sadness. still recovering from the Friday work day, I knew I had to start my day eventually. Jenny Craig awaits me. I get up, use the bathroom. brush my teeth, wash my face, I feel like I’m going through the motions. This is my everyday routine. I get dressed and walk out of the door. I’m hoping for weight loss this week, I think I have done pretty good this week considering the internal battle that I have with my body and mind. There is no weight loss (sigh) what a surprise. I go over my plan for the week with my consultant, nods, yeses, okay’s, menu then I’m out the door. My brain says “ces you got this, don’t let this thing take ahold of you, you now what you need to do for next week. I go to the grocery store to get my fruits and veggies still going through the motions but I’m feeling uneasy, she is visiting again. Her and I haven’t talked for about 2 years. She had been on my mind for the past two weeks.

While I think of her I look over the fruit, this store never has the type of fruit I like. I pick up some oranges, bananas, and granny smith apples keeping in my mind that I need this weight loss next week. I get other items I need and head to the check out line. The cashier looks tired and restless like me. I pay for my things and walk out of the store sliding doors, damn I can’t stop thinking about her. The drive home was nothing short of a sunken place. Too much silence and things that are going through my mind that I want to say out loud but I think to myself again “girl it don’t matter if you say it out loud it won’t change anything”. I arrived home, put my “diet food” in the freezer picking out my breakfast for the day, still going through the motions, focusing on my breath and my surroundings. I put pumpkin loaf in the microwave for 30 seconds. I  put my fruits and veggies away. I think about my day and if I’m going to see her again later. I change back into my dress I put on the night before and check on my loaf. It’s ready, finally, I’m famished. I grab my chocolate shake, banana, and pumpkin loaf and return to my room. Eating in silence is so awkward, I think about her while I finish my nutritious breakfast. I finish,  put my cover over m head and close my eyes. I got up at 6:30 am on a Saturday, hell, I’m going back to sleep, maybe if I sleep I can make the thoughts of her go away. Sleep was pleasurable but once my eyes opened I heard her. I got chills, I was anxious, I was afraid. I sat up took a deep breath nd closed my eyes. “go away, go away, I don’t want to be bothered with your madness today”.

I put the blanket back over my head and close my eyes, it was already too late, she had found me. Water fell from my eyes and I couldn’t contain it. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door. I stood there, hair disheveled, body limp and I couldn’t hold back the tears. Flashes of memories started to haunt me. The operating table, the doctor, the nurse, the room, the pain, I wish I had one so bad, I could smell the scent of my unborn child. “what the fuck cecilie? i thought we were pass this, here we go again with the should’ve and could’ve”, what’s done is done, no sense in crying now .” I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes red and puffy. Relieved my eyebrows are perfect and not affected by the water works. ” Okay ces, convince yourself your happy, your married to a great man, you have a job, your not struggling, you want for nothing, you can easily have now and not have a child, go in there and jump on him now”. It’s funny how your thought can be just that, a thought, I could not do it in reality, I couldn’t forget it just like that. I wiped my tears looked at myself again, she left, that wasn’t pleasant, shit, when is it ever pleasant when she comes? ugh. I rinsed my face.

I walked out of the restroom got back into my bed, next to my husband, I smiled, I reached for my phone, it’s 2:00 pm. I Guess I will perform my wifely duties folding clothes, vacuum, maybe enjoy some Netflix. This was my life, This is what most of my weekends looked like. Sad isn’t it? How could I be the most unhappiest happiest person? what I did still haunts me, i’m drained emotionally. I go through life with  just the routine. It’s starting to consume me. Today was the day, I was reminded of what I did I’m 2008 that changed my life forever………..