"Love, Najae" available on Kindle for $0.99 February 1, 2012

It’s hard to see your true beauty when not even your own parents can admit that it exists. All Najae ever wanted was to be loved and to be seen as beautiful. Her parents were preoccupied loathing her existence and regretting the mistake that was her life to see that. She spent her life being her father’s secret, her stepmother’s enemy, and her mother’s lie. It took one terrible event to open everyone’s eyes to the real problem. With an ashamed father, a capitalistic whore of a stepmother, and an almost bipolar biological mother, who is she to trust for the solution?
After spending just one weekend as her father’s daughter rather than a skeleton in his closet things are changed forever. A few skeletons of her own began to seep out. They caused her to run into the arms of the only person who ever made her feel wanted. Could it be true love? Could the attention from one man compensate for fifteen years of abuse and mistreatment? Or could this road to heartbreak be the beginning of a beautiful ending? 

Wanted: Role Models (Or you could make a good impression for your own damn kids).

The time to have that talk with my mother regarding the choices she made raising me is drawing nearer and nearer. When I was growing up she set the example for me to follow. She was the present, powerful force who shaped me. I may not agree with everything that she taught me. The fact remains that she did teach me. She also acted as that filter between fiction and reality until I was able to create a filter of my own. I didn't look up to people on TV because if it didn't come on Nickelodeon or TGIF then I didn't watch it. Oh there were some adult things I watched, like Dynasty and those old movies about that blonde named Tammy who had the most interesting adventures, but I watched those with my mother. I also watched music videos, but I had to sneak to do that. During the day at my grandmother's house I watched The Price Is right and  soap operas. No one complained about Victor Newman and Sammie from Days of Our Lives being bad role models, because the TV wasn't raising the children. It was understood that those were adult programs. Fast forward to the present, things have changed. The media is the third and most active parent. 

It seems that every time I read what's going on in the contemporary portion of the news world, someone is complaining about someone else not being a good role model for their children. Amber Rose isn't a good role model. Kim Kardashian isn't a good role model. Beyonce isn't a good role model, and neither is her fetus. Nicki Minaj isn't a good role model. It seems that a lot of people are spending their time protesting. My question is why aren't the people who are protesting these people the living example their children need? Why are they looking up to people on TV? Why do they even know who these reality show stars are? Be that person your child needs to see in order to be inspired to be someone. The time being spent complaining about celebrities and what they're doing in front of children's eyes could be spent making sure your child doesn't know who these people are. Sit down with your child and read a book. If they still have take your child to work day then participate in that. If not then spend time reinstating it. There was nothing I loved more during childhood than dressing in business clothing (there was no such thing as business casual back then; it was dress for success or stay home) and learning about working. Working. Going to a job and earning a paycheck. Spending that time made me want to grow up and get a job. Because of that I have been employed since I was fifteen years old. 

As if complaining about who is and isn't a good role model isn't enough idiocy, now they're complaining about who has a Barbie designed after them. First it was Nicki Minaj. Now it's the Kardashians. They're saying, "I don't want my child to have a Kim Kardashian Barbie doll because Kim Kardashian is famous for making a sex tape and being a ho. She's no one for my child to look up to." Stop it. First of all, why is anyone's child "looking up" to a piece of plastic? I was fortunate (spoiled) enough to have every single Barbie doll Mattel made, every car, and every accessory except the Barbie Dream House (and I'm okay with not having a $200 toy; my Barbie had a town house with a porch swing). I never wanted to be Barbie, never wanted to look like Barbie, never wanted to have what Barbie had. Do you know why? Because with all the things that Barbie did, Barbie never had a job. Well, if you count Barbie and the Rockers she did, but in my mind I was a better singer than them and was going to be more successful. Also, Barbie's man was a chump. I wasn't even allowed to have a Ken Doll because he wasn't anatomically correct. (Don't ask. My uncles and my father were some disturbed people). On top of that, any time a Barbie came out that was crafted after a celebrity it was a collector's item. You couldn't tuck it. It sat in its original packaging, on a shelf until someone created something fantastic like eBay where you could sell all of your unopened toys and make 9 millions of trillions of dollars. As a child who loved to play with toys I had no interest in a doll you couldn't play with. If I could keep the shoes for more than three minutes, then that was a waste of my life and time. 

So why are we so hung up on other people being role models? Why are we relying on reality TV and music to set better examples? I was raised to filter the difference between entertainment and something to pay attention to. If the person was in church, school, or the workplace then it was a safe bet I could follow that person's lead. Of course the church ripped that theory to shreds around the time I turned twelve, but that's a different blog post for a different day. If the person was on TV, I should probably laugh at them and nothing more. Not even The Cosby Show was to be taken seriously, because my mother was a disciplinarian in the physical sense. As much as I loved A Different World, not even that was to be taken seriously because almost every student in that school had parents who paid for college. After my mother landed her role as a single mother she made it clear that I should start looking for scholarships. It was she who shaped me into the person I am today, not Laura Winslow, not Lisa or Bart Simpson, not Super Mario Brothers, Denise I. Smith. She made it so that I didn't know who Amy Fisher or any other controversial person during my childhood was known to me. Why don't we get back to that  form of parenting and stop worrying about what the people who are famous for nothing are doing? 

Daddy's Little Girl...?

Najae never had to be the apple of her father's eye. All she ever wanted was for her father to look at her and speak to her without first consulting his wife. She wanted to no longer be placed under that same category of "disposable" that he placed her mother. After all, Najae came from him. Her mother was just the docile creature who let him leave her at the altar while she was still pregnant. Was Najae so wrong for wanting her father to love her despite his indifference toward her mother? Willing to accept that she would never be on as high a plane as her step-mother, acceptance from her father was the only thing Najae sought.

When her step-mother's jealousy drives her to do something that crosses the line, Najae hopes she'll finally be able to get some of the attention from her father she desires. Her mother is pretty much fed up with being treated like the "other woman" and  loses interest in parenting. In the meantime Najae doesn't mind looking for love in all the wrong places so long as the result is finding someone to care about her. Through her journey some painful revelations are made. Her soul cries out for one person to take the time to notice who she is. Will anyone ever love Najae, or will the pain of continuous rejection drive her insane?

"Love, Najae" will be available on Kindle for $0.99 January 1, 2012.

"Love, Najae" available on Kindle for $0.99 January 1, 2012

The women in Lorenzo's life were always docile, subservient creatures who lived to make him happy. That's why Jennifer always stood out to him. She came into his world and declared herself the leader. Following the plan she mapped out for his life was Heaven on Earth. When she was unwilling to bend on the one thing he dreamed of, though, it drove a wedge between them. She left to pursue her dreams on her own. He turned to submissive Cherisse whose only dreams were to become a biochemist, Lorenzo's wife, and the mother to Lorenzo's child. Just when Lorenzo and his pregnant fiancée Cherisse were heading down the aisle to their happily ever after Jennifer returned. She was going to reclaim ownership over Lorenzo's heart and mind at any cost.

Losing Jennifer the first time was a devastating blow. Losing her again was not an option. If it meant leaving behind the woman who wanted to fulfil all of his dreams along with the child they created together, then so be it. Forgetting the woman he never cared for was easy. Keeping his innocent child a secret wasn't. For fifteen years he allowed his wife to mistreat his daughter. He allowed her jealousy to dictate how much he interacted with his daughter. While he was trying to keep Jennifer happy, Najae suffered. While Cherisse tried to balance single motherhood and keeping the peace with Lorenzo and Jennifer, Najae suffered. All Najae needed in order to cure her suffering was someone to give her the love her preoccupied parents refused. All that was needed was someone to love Najae.

"Love, Najae" tells the heartbreaking tale of what happens when parents are more focused on making each other happy than they are on nurturing their children. The search for love is a torturous one when those who are supposed to give it refuse to give it. When anything will do see who Najae turns to. See what happens when rejection causes desperation.

"Love, Najae," available on Kindle for $0.99 1/1/2012.

The Funeral

Some of the greatest people I've had the pleasure of meeting in my lifetime have been through social networking sites. I've learned so much through these people. Therefore I am grateful for the internet. Without it I would have never had the pleasure of learning the things these people taught. The young lady who inspired this post is hilarious, but she has been more influential to my growth this year than she will ever know. Just a few simple tweets from her have saved my life. Okay, that's a tad dramatic, but she did say some cool things that really helped me to get over myself.

The second most important thing I've learned from her was mentioned in this blog post by her: What Did You Just Call Me: In it she talked about never seeing her ex's again after they broke up. She said she had a funeral for them in her mind and it was like they never existed. It wasn't to be morbid or bitter. Instead it was used as a coping mechanism. There's only one person recorded in history who came back after he was buried, and I'm sure none of my ex's fit the description of this dude.

Well, that must be nice, because when I logged onto Facebook the other day I had a friend request from an ex I never should have dated, let alone hear from again. He was one of those people who was created only to have one night stands. Not two nights, not stand-in booty calls, not to have his number stored for taudry nights of drunk dialing, just a one night stand and nothing more. No one should even have more than one round of sex with this dude. The main reason for this was because his sex was only good the first time. After that he became an incredibly selfish poor performer. The only reason I even kept him around was because I was a stupid, hopeless romantic who felt like if I kept treating him right he would one day wake up and be wonderful to me.

The fairytale never came true. Instead I spent months of him driving chicks around town in my car while I was at work. He was always an hour late picking me up from work. When I protested (or maybe I went off) he would get his entire family to jump on me, attack my character, and point out every flaw in my personality. I don't think the man was faithful to me a single day of our relationship. He rarely wanted his children around me, and he rarely wanted to be around my children. When I asked him to spend the night with me he refused, saying that was too much like moving in together, and he was still trying to get over living with his baby's mother. (His baby was, like, four, and he and the mother split up when his "baby" was an actual baby). We went on two dates the whole time we were together. Of course I paid for them both, because I was stupid. Whenever I asked him for something as simple as a Whopper from Burger King, he got his mother to yell at me for being selfish with his money. If there was a night where he wanted to use my car while I was at work and I didn't feel like giving it to him, he would get his mother on me. His mother even came to my job one time, demanding my car keys for something or other. (Back then I was still under the impression that I couldn't say no to people's mothers, so whatever she said I did, even though I was 24). Above all, 5 months and three weeks into our relationship, he had the audacity to look at me and say, "Oh. You're a writer? I didn't know that." I was dumb enough to stay with him, because I hated failure, especially in relationships. Yes, that was the only reason I stayed with him.

This dude made me so angry that I tried to run him over with my car, which is what I have decided was his cause of death. I didn't do it, though. I only witnessed it via YouTube. After viewing it I got a phone call  asking me to write the eulogy. Somehow they remembered I was a writer (even though he never told them that) and figured that only I could put into words what needed to be said about him. So I strutted up to the podium wearing a form-fitting pinstriped suit, a fedora, and black boots with killer five inch silver spiked heels. As I walked I wondered why we were in a church. Dude was a Jehovah's Witness. They also waited a whole week just for me to say what I had to say. They even paid for my plane and rented a car for me to get around my home town in while I was there. Looking over the sea of faces - mostly females that I'm sure he cheated on me with - I saw a lot of crocodile tears. Those people didn't care about him. Honestly, I didn't care about him either. I just didn't want to fail. In this I failed myself epically.

"We're all here for one reason or another. Some of you genuinely loved this dude. I didn't. I only told him I loved him because he said it first when I bought him a cheeseburger for the eighth time and paid for a night in a motel. He treated me like crap the whole time we were together. I'm actually still waiting for the trip to the Chinese buffet and the birthday present he promised to give me for my twenty-fifth birthday. I'm sure he still has the canary diamond earrings I gave him for his. The sneakers I bought him are probably long gone. Shoutout to him for proving my aunt right: If you buy a man a pair of sneakers he'll walk all over you.

"I'm sorry the girl ran him over with his own car. I know she got tired of seeing it posted on Facebook with different girls on the hood. Stay strong, girl. I've been there. In fact, I was once behind the wheel of a vehicle, ready to end his life for every heartless thing he did to me. I was called crazy for that. The only thing that can legally bind me to crazy is the fact that I stayed with him. Even after ramming the hood of my Dodge Stratus into his back I still stayed. But to you, chick, I say 'kudos' for getting behind the wheel of the vehicle with his name on the title, putting it in gear, and flattening him like a pancake, crushing every single bone in his entire body. Not only are you understood; you are appreciated.

"Was this guy a good father? I guess. To the children he left behind I am truly sorry for your loss. He sucked as a boyfriend, though, and as a person. He died still living on the floor of his friend's mother's living room, sleeping under a Scooby Doo comforter. Even though he made enough money to buy a house, he chose to stay there, because he didn't know how to think for himself. Now who will the people who controlled our relationship dictate? Whose girlfriend/ex-girlfriend will his friends hit on? Who will his mother bully? I'm sorry he died without learning how to speak for himself. His life ended without him telling the best thing he ever had how he felt about her.

"In conclusion, I'm sorry your life sucked so bad. I'm sorry it came to an end. Please don't think of me as morbid as I stay behind at the burial and watch them lower his casket into the ground. I just have to see the dirt cover his coffin so that I can know he's gone forever and can never come back into my life. This way I know I'll never get a friend request from him on any social networking site. I'll never have to worry about him getting my phone number again and calling me at 2am, begging for a booty call. I don't have to think about him driving by my house, thinking he can just come over like he paid a bill or something. I need to know that I'll never have to fear hearing the words he said to me during the final seconds of our relationship: 'You a pussy. I see the bitch in your eyes every time you walk by.' I need to know that you'll never call me again, totally in disbelief that I was able to move on from you. When I learned that he only wanted to destroy me I had to see that he was destroyed first. I had to see that the time he wasted for me ran out for him.

"And then I need to say a brief word of thanks. Through this awful relationship I learned some very important lessons. Not only did I learn that I shouldn't stay with a person solely because I don't want a relationship to end. I also learned how valuable time is, because the time I spent with him was a complete and total waste. Since then I've learned not to get into a relationship that I'm not getting anything out of. I learned that when people show you they're nothing more than dick you use them for just that, if and only if it's worth it, and then you move on. Last but not least, I learned what a healer Monica's A Dozen Roses CD can be during a messy breakup with a person who is too arrogant to just go away."

If Sex Ain't the Only Thing...

This morning after my daily dose of Joyce Meyer I opted to watch the next televangelist rather than changing to Sportscenter or CNN. Her show was about teens waiting until marriage to have sex, which is a great message. Biblically it is what we are instructed to do. Four our own health it is the logical thing to do. There are so many sexually transmitted diseases that keeping yourself pure is the only way of staying safe. Then they went into other reasons why premarital sex is a bad thing. Among their most repeated reasons was because if you aren't a virgin when you get married you have nothing left to give your spouse when the time comes. I highly disagree. Doesn't saying "You have nothing else to give," convey the message that sex is the most important part of you?

I feel that telling our youth that giving up sex before marriage leaves nothing to look forward to contradicts everything we should be teaching our young girls. That is, if we are shaping them into wormen. From the time they learn about the opposite sex they should be taught that they are more thn a vagina. Their whole package is the prize. Any man should find value in all that a woman has to offer. Her body should be the least important thing to connect with. Teach these girls that sex isn't important because there's no gaurantee it's going to be as good as it's advertised. Until they find that person with a mind-blowing performance sex is pretty much overrated. It is a weapon of manipulation and distraction. The most amazing connections are made within the heart and mind. Teach the girls how amazing it is to meet a man who you can have fun with, who can teach you something. Make sure they know that sex is one of life's perks and not the ultimate prize.

Likewise, teach these young boys that a dick only makes them males, not men. A penis doesn't control them. It is not to think for them. When you don't put as strong of an emphasis on sex you allow young men the chance to grown into the person they were created to be. They don't have to use deception to get what they want. What they'll really want is true love. They'll want to learn who a person is. They'll appreciate what sharing space and time with a person feels like.

The program also talked about saving yourself for marriage so that you won't be competing against past lovers or have anything else to compare it to. In my opinion that takes away from everything we teach our children about self-esteem. GOD made us all to be the best possible "us" we can be. There's no need to compare one person to another because when it comes to the person you vow to spend the rest of your life with there is no competition. Comparing your spouse to your past lovers also teaches our children to focus on the wrong thing. A marriage isn't about what happened before the two became one. People unite with the person who was meant for them if marriage is done properly. Everyone who came before was just practice. When we consider a person's past we tend to bring judgement upon a person's current character based on past choices rather than the processing and application of present lessons. If who a person used to be is the same person they are now, then there's a serious disconnect somewhere.

I don't dispute that sex should be postponed until you are married. However, this doesn't happen often. More sound reasons why should be given. Instead of saying, "Don't do this because it's in the Bible," give them alternatives that are more appealing. "The Bible says not to do it," is an argument that can't be taken seriously if the person saying it isn't doing everything the Bible says themselves.

If we stop treating sex like a trophy people won't be so pressed to get it. We are so much more than sex. It's a forbidden fruit. Stop dangling it front of the faces of the youth like you would dangle a carrot in front of a house's face. Guide them in the direction of better things by using better bait. Show them the best parts of being in a relationship and ultimately a marriage: When you, as a complete person, find another complete person, and the two of you complement each other. Then sex will be one of the many spectacular things you share.

Sweet 16

I was sad to learn about the passing of rapper Special One of the group Conscious Daughters. I loved their song "We Roll Deep." Then again, in the early to mid-90's I loved any song that had the word Jeep in the lyrics. "We rolling deep/So bump it in your Jeeps/Cuz you know we rolling deeper than most..." That hook used to have me so excited as I listened to it at a moderately loud volume (for my mother's house anyway) on Rap City. I couldn't wait until I got my own Jeep so I could "bump" songs in it. When I turned sixteen I was going to have the hottest Jeep ever. It was going to be red with black tint and gold chrome. Yes, sixteen was going to be a fabulous age.

Listening to "We Roll Deep" after learning of Special One's passing took me back to the first time I heard that song. I was about to turn twelve, the awkward age where you're no longer a child but still not a teenager. The teenage years seem magical. Within them there was the most important age life had to offer: sweet sixteen. That was the year I was going to get a huge party where everyone I knew was going to congratulate me on being awesome for so long. That was the year my mother was going to allow me to wear makeup. More important than any of that, though, I was going to get my learner's permit and my driver's license. Because I planned to be the most awesome sixteen year old in this lifetime, I would get my license and permit on the same day. The next day I would get a car. I had to pace myself. After all, the DMV closed at 4:30, and the car dealerships closed at 5:00. A half hour wasn't going to be enough time to get my Jeep painted and detailed. I'd probably have to get the rims ordered too, and that would take at least an hour.

The pre-teen years, what a time! A time when the sky was the limit. A time when I was too old for dolls, too young to do anything but look forward to when I turned sixteen. When I turned sixteen I was going to have my first boyfriend. He was going to look just like Larenz Tate's character Andre on the short-lived TV show South Central, and I was going to wear and look fabulous in sundresses like his girlfriend Nicole, played by Maiaa Campbell. We were going to ride around town in my Jeep, and everyone was going to stare. Of course, they wouldn't be able to see us thanks to the dark tint. They'd only be able to marvel at the splendor of my vehicle. And it would be sunny and hot every day of my sixteenth year because GOD knew how badly I needed to show off. My boyfriend was going to be as smart as Dwayne Wayne from A Different World. He was going to be fully supportive of everything I did, even though he was going to have his own thing going on.

By the time I turned sixteen I was going to have a double platinum album. It was going to be written and composed by me. All artwork was going to be a product of my own phenomenal photography. All of my videos were going to be choreographed by me, and Jermaine Dupri was going to be the producer. At this time I was going to be the youngest person to come out with a magazine, Go Girl magazine. It was going to feature only brown and dark skinned women. And Aaliyah, because, well, Aaliyah had nothing to do with my color complex issues, and Aaliyah was the greatest thing ever.

At the same time that I was on Video Soul performing every song on my album in front of Donnie Simpson and Sherrie Carter, I was going to be nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and a Newberry Award. Howard University was going to be so impressed by my grades that they were going to wave my necessity to complete the eleventh and twelfth grades and let me take classes there and join the sorority of my choice.

It's funny what memories a song will trigger. That simple line, "So bump it in your Jeeps," reminded me of how much passion and ambition I used to have. It's important to tap into this from time to time. Childhood ambitions rejuvenate you. I accomplished none of the things I aspired to. Some of them were impossible, seeing how I dance like I'm having an uncoordinated seizure, and I sing like I should only be singing in the shower or in the car. Some of those things should have happened and still could. Being that gas costs what it does now a Jeep would be the dumbest mode of transportation to choose, but remembering when I wanted something and just knew nothing could stop me from getting it just gave me a jolt of energy. Sweet sixteen may be long gone, but the drive doesn't have to be. I still can have everything on that list and more. Don't worry. I'm not dropping an album. Right now. Or maybe I will...