Claudine – The Welfare Queen


In 1974, Diahann Carroll and James Earl Jones starred in the motion picture Claudine – a single Black mother of six children, on welfare, who finds love in a garbage man. Claudine is one of the first movies to highlight the dynamics of the Black male/female relationship. It also shows the interference of the WHITE man and his ruling thumb as king of the Welfare Queen.

Introducing the Welfare Queen

The first dialogue exchanged between Diahann and the other Black maids taking the bus to work. She explains how she’s suffering from headaches and lack of sleep. The other Blackwomen exchange looks and conclude that it’s perhaps because she hadn’t had sex that morning. She’s a single mother with six children she exclaims! She can’t be putting out and “sleeping around”. A Blackwoman in the group pipes up, “when women fought for equal opportunities they didn’t mean voting – when you got needs, you got needs!”

Let me be so fucking crystal clear on this: when WHITE women were fighting for “equal opportunity” is DID NOT include the Blackwoman. I know this is a hard concept for many Blackwomen to grasp. Gloria Steinem doesn’t give a damn about your BLACK RIGHTS. This so-called “women’s liberation” movement never sought to include the Blackwoman. WHITE women sought to be liberated from WHITE men. She wanted the same equal opportunities as the WHITE man!

The majority of Black folks in Amerikkka fought for CIVIL RIGHTS yet along comes a blonde bimbo telling you to leave your man because she wants to leave hers. The Blackman wasn’t holding the Blackwoman back – what the hell does she need to be liberated from? You say you got needs? Well, tell me what else you want from a Blackman other than an orgasm – if that’s all you’re looking for why should he be the one searching for more?

It Must Be Her Fault

James wants to know what the hell happened to her to be thirty-six with six kids. The Blackman longs to understand how this “keeps” happening to the Blackwoman. “Oh [I must be one of those] ignorant black bitches who always got to be laid up with some dude; grinding, having babies for the taxpayer to take care of”. Slavery and designated Sex Farm Plantations treated Black people like cattle! Blackmen were desired for their big, strong, strapping – “Sambo” physique as he would produce “good stock”. The Blackwoman didn’t make too much of a difference to the slave-master. The Blackwoman would lie around and layup with the various, strange men master brought for her to have sex with. Later he would soon separate every member of that BLACK family.

We, as Blackwomen, have learned that the only value we possess is being able to produce children. Often you can hear a Blackwoman proudly saying, “at least I get paid for what I do now”. The Blackman has been conditioned to believe that his worth is measured by how many children he has. His genes must be worth something is master wants more like him. We were taught these concepts by the WHITE man. Conditions of slavery have stayed with us generations later. Today, Blackwomen still measure their worth based on who wants to sleep with them. Today, Blackmen still measure their worth based on how many women they have slept with.

White Supremacy Holds on Tight

Single with six children – the Blackwoman has been down this road before. She prepares herself for the moment the Blackman will not want to bear the burden of being a husband and a father. She can’t see herself with things no woman around her has yet to acquire. From birth, Blackwomen are emotionally and psychologically prepared to go through life alone. She tells the Blackman, “let’s just enjoy each other until it’s over. Nice goodbye. Nice memories.” The Blackwoman sikes herself out before she ever goes to bat. 

How could she ever see a life without her husband – Mr. Welfare. He is the nosiest husband in town! What does he do? He sends his tired WHITE woman to your door for information. Quick – hide the toaster! Hide the iron! Hide the man! Don’t you dare get caught with another man in HIS house!

He damn near starves you and makes you beg for pennies at his feet. If you can’t feed your children then you don’t d-es-e-r-ve them he tells you. You get a part-time job without telling him you are a sneaky, lying fraud! Decide to stay home and “raise the children” you are lazy. You no longer desire to be the Welfare Queen of this racist castle. You want a divorce but he refuses to sign the papers. Therefore you teach your daughters that any Blackman worth loving “will bring the groceries instead of eating yours”. But how can he?

The System is Rigged

The Blackman wants to take Mr. Welfare’s woman? How much money you got? Every dollar the Blackman makes must be reported to Mr. Welfare. Every purchase, every gift. If you marry the single Blackwoman and her children they become your sole financial responsibility. Blackmen often feel like if those aren’t HIS children then HE shouldn’t be financially responsible. Let’s say he goes through with it and marries this Blackwoman. Mr. Welfare says the Blackwoman don’t need money if the Blackman is working. He’s over forty! He’s a garbage man!

Mr. Welfare doesn’t care. He’s bitter and wants his woman back! The Blackman now has to PROVE that he is MAN enough to take care of his family without foreign assistance. No handouts! But what if he loses his job? The law states the unemployed, married Blackman MUST apply for welfare. All the reporting, deductibles, interviews and home-visits will drive that Blackman to drink. He concludes that it is better to love her from a distance or give up the idea of loving her at all. Now papa’s a rolling stone.

Nothing Has Changed Today

James leaves Diahann because it’s just too much! Just when things couldn’t get worse her eldest son has a vasectomy. He figures being a father or a husband is the worst thing to be. It’ll never work out because the WHITE man isn’t playing fair. Also, her eldest daughter is now unmarried and pregnant. Begin the cycle. “Momma if you loved me why didn’t you kill me like they did on the plantation?” her son asked. You see there was once a time when Black mothers would kill their infant child because she knew the future ahead of it. Diahann replied, “I guess I don’t love you because I wanted you to LIVE” – she sees a better future now. Unfortunately, when slavery ended the WHITE man had no use for Black babies. He stole the concept of welfare from Black communities, coined the term “eugenics” and formulated Planned Parenthood.

Blackwomen want husbands for themselves and fathers for their children. The Blackman sees his only possible opportunity as making money – BUYING FREEDOM. However, don’t be so easily moved. Money ain’t everything. Learn, study and educate yourself – for yourself, by yourself; no foreign assistance! All the money in the world means nothing to the BLACK NATION if you don’t have the knowledge on what to do with it. The biggest house on the hill and the nicest car in the driveway carries no merit if you are one day from the unemployment line. To Mr. Welfare the unwed Black mother and jobless Black father are…

P.S. James marries Diahann.

Photo Cred: “Story of O.J.” by Jay-z,,, &

My Blackgirl Teenage Years

My Blackgirl Teenage Years – Phase Two, Chapter Two

By the time a Blackgirl reaches teenage years she has already been schooled on various manipulative tactics to sway the Blackman. Where she accumulates this knowledge means nothing to her. Her opinions on life are formed through television, full-length movies, love songs, romance novels and, perhaps, her own emotionally unstable mother. Either subconsciously or consciously she may conspire to manipulate the Blackman. The teenage Blackgirl will do just about anything to have the Blackboy “eating out of her hand”. She believes she must resort to this behavior to be accepted into the mysterious “Woman Club”.

The teenage Blackgirl will spend the majority of her time applying these schemes on the Blackman to test his reactions, sincerity, and level of interest. These schemes may include making him jealous by talking to another man or using her looks and body to flatter or entice. Those lessons advise the teenage Blackgirl that it is, perhaps, okay to lie, toy with emotions or use her body to serve her purpose. She believes the Blackman is both easy to seduce and stupid.

Unlearn Everything You Thought You Knew

Psychologists agree that the reality we perceive is based on predetermined and edited rules and regulations. During our most impressionable years, these notions are amplified by the surrounding adults in our lives and media. How many times have you, or a woman you know – made up stories, played a damsel, demanded expensive gifts or made sexual promises hoping he would swear his everlasting love? Believing that a man is only worth your time if he throws money at you in exchange for something else will prepare you for a life of prostitution.

My mother never talked to me about sex. I knew nothing of the birds or the bees. My first conversation on sex took place in the third grade. Yeah – that’s right. A girl in my class (who was possibly held back) wanted to know if we were lesbians!! She had just seen Love & Basketball. We all know the scene where Monica lies about being a lesbian because she’s a “tomboy”. At this time, I am 8-years-old and had never seen Love & Basketball. I certainly had never heard the term l-e-s-b-i-a-n. Nevertheless here are a group of 8 and 9-year-old’s discussing sexual orientations. Considering my mother and I never had that conversation all of my advice on love and relationships came from everyone else.

Of Course – Easier Said than Done

I believed that I should be a strong independent woman yet date a man with a lot of money; that men can’t be trusted and all they want is sex but never let them get you pregnant. My thoughts and feelings on marriage and motherhood were, originally, not my own. As a teenage Blackgirl, we are compelled by nature to follow the only examples set before us. Sure enough if, and when, the teenage Blackgirl is gassed up to take these practices literally it will influence her into adulthood. Our philosophies on life come from our mothers, peers and WHITE society. It is a tried and repeated process from house-to-house.

My mother made sure I “stayed in a child’s place” to the very best of her ability. A lot of my peers’ parents were far laxer as they could have boyfriends, date and attend co-ed sleepovers. My mother, on the other hand, didn’t find that behavior “cute”. Certain television shows I was simply “too young” to watch, had a strict bedtime and dressed in Granimals. Honestly, growing up I couldn’t stand my mother. I felt like she was so totally cramping my style and spitting in my swag. All the others shopped at Foxmoor, wear kitten heels and rock a crochet weave! I longed to be that girl. Many Black mothers approve of that behavior and do nothing to stop it. Not always because they don’t want to but simply because they don’t know how.


Yet Where There’s a Will There’s a Way

My mama wasn’t going for that shit. Friend’s mothers’ would tell them to“be more like Brittney” hence one of many reasons why I have few female friends. Once that friend fired back, “then perhaps you should parent more like Brittney’s mother”. During my early years she – my mother, made it absolutely clear that we were not sisters nor friends. Of course, she would conclude that “when you’re older you will understand”. I, however, did not care about being older. I cared about the right here and now! Nobody wanted a romantic relationship with the girl who is 30 pounds overweight, wore glasses and a had crooked smile.

I recall, on several occasions, how a family member wanted to introduce to me a “viable young man”. Apparently, he was an original Prince Charming but first, they needed me to shed some weight and “clear up my face”. Every time I saw her, honey, she would pick my appearance to shreds – reading me for complete and utter filth, mmkay?! According to them, I was depressed because I was overweight which resulting in me being “easy” because I had such low self-esteem. Was this family member of mine (female) suggesting that I wasn’t smart enough? Didn’t have enough depth and personality? To this very day, I was never introduced to that man and I carried those teenage insecurities into adulthood…

Photo Cred: &

My Black Female Childhood

Welcome to My Black Female Childhood

From the moment a child is born they are attached to their first teacher – their mother. The female infant never stops studying and learning from her mother. As a child, you will mimic everything, right or wrong, and the first mental recordings, which cannot be erased, will become references to survival. I am currently reading Shahrazad Ali’s book “The Blackman’s Guide to Understanding the Blackwoman”. Chapter-by-chapter I am revealing my truths about the Blackwoman that I am. This is my Black Female Childhood.

Absent Father – Black Female Childhood

My father never played a major role in my Black Female Childhood. We talked on the phone, I was sixteen and I have met him. Once. I was twenty-one. Although he was absent my mother never spoke ill of him towards me. I never grew up thinking my father wasn’t shit, left us and didn’t give a damn or how much she couldn’t stand him. Thank God. Now, don’t get me wrong – I have, indeed, heard those phrases growing up in my Black Female Childhood. Other Black female family members, acquaintances, and the media would share those views about the Blackmen in their lives.

Many Blackwomen are set up to believe that the Black man is a bother, liar, and a dirty cheat. I have seen Black women withhold information they think is necessary, listen or obey only when they choose and/or have automatic backup plans if it doesn’t work out. These are my first impressions and first-hand accounts of the Blackman who is rarely, if ever, present to defend himself and his kind.

No Strong Male Presence – Black Female Childhood

My brother was born when I was four and I knew then that his father wasn’t my father. I don’t recall if my mother ever explicitly explained that to me of if I just knew, ya know? They never worked out – my mother and my brother’s father, so a man in the house or “of the house” was never a concept that I was hip to. Everything went through, by, pass and around my mother. Eventually, my mother would marry in my teenage years and I will never forget this particular lesson of authority in Black male/female relationships.

My mother had asked me to clean before she left for errands. Shortly after, my step-father would return home from work and relieve me of my chores. I went outside and he took on the responsibility himself. Well, he didn’t finish fast enough because, you see, my mother had returned home. I was outside. He was in the shower. The house was not clean. Shit.

I couldn’t figure out why it didn’t matter what he said. It was what my mother said. Certainly, I had new questions to deal with in my Black Female Childhood: Can I dismiss any and everything he has to say from now on? The man who I know as my grandfather is not my biological grandfather; am I no longer obligated to listen to him either? Why am I – the child, being punished if the adult in the situation is claiming responsibility?

Black Fairy-tale’s Lied to Me

My only sense of authority is a woman and the very i-d-e-a of a man telling me what to do in my personal life is foreign and damn near laughable. I learned early that my mother – a woman, had the last say and made the last decisions. The Blackman’s word is under scrutiny, questionable and carefully taken into consideration.

I have never seen a Black male/female relationship “acted out” in my Black Female Childhood let alone my entire life. My grandparents lived out-of-state and my mother essentially a single-parent with “no family” nearby. Relationships were grown folks business, therefore, all I knew came from television, music, books, and magazines. I was barely 10 years old in the year 2000 and my lessons on Black love and family came from ‘Girlfriends’, ‘The Parker’s’, ‘My Wife & Kids’ and reruns of ‘Moesha’, ‘Living Single’, ‘Martin’, and ‘The Cosby Show’. The Black woman’s Holy Grail of movies on love consisted of ‘Love Jones’, ‘The Wood’, and ‘Love & Basketball’. I could forever replay and study them down to the T.

By the time I was 12-years-old, I had seen every “classic” Black movie involving love, relationships, and marriage. Movies told the truth and I believed them! I recall watching ‘Set It Off’ with Queen Latifah on television and cried my-little-baby-eyes out because I thought that I just saw the most gruesome crime L-I-V-E, right then and there! I was far too young to separate fiction from reality.

Separate the Lies from Truth

I carried these emotions and ideas into adulthood as they governed the way I was going to live my life. My 90’s-baby Black Female Childhood power couple heroes were Martin and Gina, Mya and Darnell, Nina and Darius! “Baby-Making Music” was well into my childhood memories. From getting Usher’s “My Way” for Christmas to your momma banging TP-2. The movies and music almost seem to entice, mislead and misguide the Black woman.

I still have unresolved issues with that man – my father. I don’t know if I will ever get the opportunity, again, to talk to him face-to-face. The right “words” to use haven’t found me. I can’t start a conversation when I don’t even know what I’m going to say. Everything that he wasn’t present to teach I learned through trial and error. Everything I know about the Black man I learned from the ‘The Brothers’. That would carry me into the next chapter of my life – those teenage years.

Photo Cred:,, &

Self-Reflective Healing

Healing Through Knowledge

Healing is the process to make sound or healthy again. I’ve read a book called, “The Blackman’s Guide to Understanding the Blackwoman” written by Shahrazad Ali. Clearly, the book is targeted towards men but it is something that women should be reading as well. I never realized the generational psychological factors, stress and damage slavery caused between Black men and women. The healing will not take place overnight.

Healing is to Confess

With childhood trauma, denial, low self-esteem and immaturity I lost someone I never thought I could lose. I suppose I didn’t “lose” them as much as I abandoned them. Horrible memories, unresolved pain, and childlike behavior finally went too damn far. Sometimes you aren’t always granted the opportunity to be a better person today than you were yesterday. I stopped looking in the mirror and chose to live life “day-by-day”. No plan. No blueprint. Nothing to follow. I assumed that one day I would wake up and “it would all make sense”.

Healing is to Take Responsibility

Instead, the complete fucking opposite happened. I woke up to nothing. No one. After 25 years I finally feel responsible – for myself. Maybe I did use my family as a crutch. Perhaps I blamed my now ex-boyfriend for being in prison for the last five years. I like to believe I hadn’t excelled in life because I bought into what the white American societal structure has brainwashed us to believe. About life. About love.

Healing is to Reveal

Through reading this book I have decided that to heal myself and, hopefully, other Black women that I show who I am. In order to do that I must critically examine where I come from, what I’ve been through, the relationships I have fostered and where I hope to go. Writing is highly therapeutic to me as I am a better writer than speaker. I aspire, through every upcoming entry, to remedy more than just myself. I don’t know where on the internet these posts will circulate but whilst I heal I hope to inspire.


Photo Cred: &


Basic Math

Who Taught You How to Count?

Most people learn basic math by the time they are 8 years old. Unfortunately, those lessons do not follow them into adulthood. Nevertheless, we still have to explain what a “couple” is. 1+1=2. Not 3.

                       Basic Math

Where things ever okay? Did we ever come to a conclusion deciding our future together? I don’t think so. I mean where do you go after you’ve been betrayed? Lied to? Cheated on?

Do you sit and bathe in the disappointment and the hurt? Go and seek revenge? Do nothing? Forgive?

I’ll tell you what I did: I took a quick shower in the disappointment; washed my face of the hurt and sought revenge by waking up the next day. Forgiving him was finding strength in myself to move on.

See, we never needed to go back and find the solutions to our problems. You cheated, equated out the wrong answer and suddenly everything became resolved. The two of us could never be when you tried to carry the one and make it three. Basic math for yo ass.

By: Brittney Smith

Photo Cred: BasicxMathTwitter & Pinterest


Best Thing You Never Had

Okay, well maybe you did “have” me but you don’t no more.

It all started in high school — siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Junior year I crossed a boy in the hallways and then we sat next to each other in History class. I thought he talked too much; handsome, but quite a chatterbox. Then, one day after lunch, I see him holding hands with this girl. She was cute. Simple. However, the hunting lioness in me saw competition determined to best – the best thing you never had.

I Wanted to be His E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

He added me on Facebook first. Then we exchanged numbers. I initiated conversations through text him. I asked questions about his relationship and plans after graduation. School started at 7:30 am and I would wake up early ya’ll to get cute just to walk past his ass. How could I forget the time I found out where he worked that I drove there after school; wrong site. Eventually, I got him. He wasn’t mine but he was there.

Oh, College…

It wasn’t until I moved into a single room dorm that we had our first encounter. It was actually in a car on dim street and it was the first time THEY said MY name. Kudos to Brittney! We started to make time for love sessions in between classes (he went to a different school). We discussed our feelings with each other and how it was always the wrong time: he was with somebody; I was with somebody. Although we both tried it was never right until…

He Asked Me Out!!!

Perfect timing! He’s single! I’m single! Let’s mingle! We planned to meet at the mall for a movie after his shift. At this time it is crucial to point out he also worked in the said mall. I got dressed, snatched, beat — all dat. “Where are you going?” my mother asked. “On a date! Yes, with a man!” Oh, she was so happy for me. I checked my phone one last time before grabbing my coat and I had a message that read: “hey I got off work early so I went home. Let’s reschedule.” Fuck you mean you meant home??? Devastated I lied and told him I was out-of-town when I wasn’t leaving for another 4. How could he?

Call me Mrs.Lawry cause I’m Salty

At this time in my life, I was still very emotional. Sadness, disappointment, embarrassment, and anger flooded me. It also killed my ego. While undressing I began to analyze the situation: the movie starts at 11; mall closes at 10; he got off early at 9. Why not go home, shower and come back, right? How come we couldn’t catch any earlier viewing to accommodate? Was work really that stressful today? Was I not worth the ride back to the mall? I commanded myself not to cry. Instead, I finished packing, laid in my bed, packed a bowl and streamed Nurse Jackie on Netflix.

The Aftermath

We didn’t speak for a long time after that because I couldn’t bring myself to engage. I still have fucking questions! Through mutual friends we would be in the same room talking around each other; it was stupid. He will always be a dear friend of mine; we have memories but it’ll never be the same. We hung out solo a couple times but it’s awkward now. Just this morning he hit me up on Messenger to ask if I were now involved which I am _____. To this day it continues to bother me and I’m not gonna lie — I cried after we finished talking. You folded on a Royal Flush.


Photo cred:


For The Next Time a Black Man says, “You’re Too Strong”

You Are Not “Too” Strong 

He is “too” weak – mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

Dare I say financially? Fuck it.

He’s just all around broke. Broken.

Still trying to make sense of all his scattered shards that all he’s collected is doubt and pity. For the feeble man, you will always be “too” strong.

“All you women…All you [BLACK] women!”

Oh boy, here it comes! The moment we have all been waiting for! Blame the very existence of Black women for your trials and tribulations. Stop comparing yourself to the pale man who steals, kills and destroys. You aren’t him and I ain’t her.

How dare you slander her, Black man?! She who has remained steadfast and diligent as she watched this strange white man steal her children, kill her husband and destroy her virtue? She earned the right to be strong.

You say you want a hardworking strong woman but you do not! A woman who cooks and cleans; fulfills your sexual desires and works outside the home. You insecurities won’t allow you to love her.

You, sir — don’t cook, clean, pay taxes nor feed my appetite and yet I’m still here.

Technically you’re still here because this Sistah ain’t going nowhere.

[That’s my name on the mailbox, brother]

Yet you feel you should be rewarded for taking out the trash?

How are you comfortable pointing out my flaws and stressing your likes whilst lying on my couch; drinking my Scotch, watching my Netflix!

No; I will not chill!

You got clothes in my closet, my keys in your pocket, his half of my bed — but, hold up! “Lemme hold $20”, the man said. You work hard at running your mouth and the streets then walk through my doors talmbout, “what you got to eat?”

When a black man condemns a Black woman he disgraces Yah resulting in complete failure and disasters. Keep playing this white man’s game and your black ass gon lose.

Sit down. Be Humble.

By: Brittney Smith
Photo Cred:

There’s No Such Thing as “Two Best Friends”

It’s Too Early For This Shit

It’s pretty self-explanatory but let me explain: Now that you all are aware of the significant other in my life, and I can openly discuss us, this morning he called and I immediately asked about yesterday because we didn’t get a chance to speak. He said that it was chill and he talked to his best friend. Excuse me, who? Last night, on a fairly empty stomach – I had drunk 10 ounces of 1800 and wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly as his called did just wake me up.

“Say that again,” I replied.

“I said it was good and I talked to my best friend,” he repeated.

“Ooh! Just say it say for me one more time, please.”

He’s starting to catch on.

No Such Thing As “Two Best Friends”

At this point, he feels the draft of my shade.

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked.

“We didn’t talk yesterday soooo…who’s this best friend?”

“I can have more than one.”

Where is the emergency brake when you need it! No, you cannot! You can’t have multiple best friends because we can’t ALL be the best. Here this man is telling me that I’m just a member of a mediocre circle of friends who are all generally “good”. Completely unacceptable.

Let Me Tell You Why

“Is it a girl?” because at this point I just gotta know who the best is, you feel me?

“Yeah, she’s funny.”

Just like that; so blasé as if I had just asked if the sky was blue. Consequently, my Petty-O-Meter as been activated.

“If y’all getting along so great – why y’all not together?” Straight Savage.

“It’s not like that. We from the streets together”.

He should have been a gravedigger the way he’s burying himself. I certainly feel like my gangsta is now in question.

“I’m just saying – you don’t have any boys you can go hoop with it. Why she gotta be the best?”

Two Best Friends Leads to Jealousy

In this case, we have two issues. If you have a best friend and they introduce you to their other friend you automatically are on the defense. You speculate on their inside jokes. Do they sleepover at each other houses? Do they watch the Golden Girls together?  It’s a horrible and appalling feeling to know that YOUR bff is “bff-ing” with someone else.

Yet, when you are in a relationship and they exclaim that their best friend is of the opposite sex it’s a whole other playing field. It’s no longer a matter of which television shows they binge-watch together. Instead, you contemplate as to whether or not one day the appetite craves for something different. Do you talk to her about me? Does she know my secrets?

Maybe it’s just me but the thought that one day he could see in her what he sees in me what I see in him potentially has the power to ruin me. And it’s not just this girl but any girl. I’ve yet to meet her, of course, someday I will but for now, I have to trust him when he says,

“It’s not like that.”

Photo Cred:

Don’t Hurt Yourself

Don’t Hurt Yourself

Yesterday, the person whom I have been “involved with” struck me – yes, struck –  for the first time. It had something to do with $10 and a bottle of whisky Satan’s Sauce. I was a woman with drive, dreams, and goals before he and I crossed paths. Now that I’m back to traveling alone I think I see a pot of gold glistening off the horizon that was once shadowed by fog, bitterness, and insecurity. I was always, at times, completely aware of the venom that he was inducing in me but it was all worth the orgasm. Don’t hurt yourself, B.

Time Waits For No Man

As I reflect on all the precious, non-refundable time spent with this person it’s schizo how I didn’t trust myself to end it. You see, I was in cahoots with another gentleman caller. At that time I had already mastered the Waltz and wanted to learn to Cha-Cha. We were terrible dance partners and assumed we would eventually nail the routine. Ironic how all I want to nail is his coffin; the only dance we will ever again jive to is “Russian Roulette”.

Only One Bullet is Required

At any rate I’m trying to figure out how to dance on my own – comfortably. The first step is getting back to the person I was before I met him. The version of me that was exercising, cooking at home and flowing spiritually. He was never a component in the equation that which is my future. I always knew that he wasn’t the one even way before he broke the damn door down. I’ll admit that I was willing to crash for the sake of debunking the mystery man who always carried a backpack.

Journey Back to Self

Never underestimate the power of loneliness. Every non-family member person I know has stumbled into my life and just stuck. All my life it’s just been me: no boyfriend, fiancé or baby daddy. All it takes is a decent looking fellow to tell you how decent you look. God forbid you to have low confidence and will tolerate anything to be seen. All any of us can hope to do is tell our personal truth but to be frank there are times where our truth is nothing more than our own: no one else cares because they have their own to tend to. My truth? Just know that you didn’t hurt me. You, sir, have hurt yourself.

You came for me – I returned to sender.

Photo Cred:




“Ssh…be quiet”

Ssh…be quiet

I can hear your feet drag across the floor; hear the door close from you checking the closet. I remember when I first met you. I was out Christmas shopping. The way you stood before me with pure confidence, striking poise and shoulders that would’ve even made the Gods jealous.

I was so mesmerized by the way you would say my name, hold my hand and at night – showed me how much you cared. I would lie in your arms and imagine our entire lives together. The house, the cars, the money and of course the kids, so many kids – but what I could never imagine was this…

Ssh…be quiet

Each stride you take up the stairs feels like a gun being shot in my eardrums I’ve never heard a sound so loud…I could never imagine the manipulations, the limitations, screaming contests, broken dishes, holes in the wall – the power.

…We grew up together. He was the first boy I’d ever kissed; we went to homecoming together – Prom. We even sat next to each other at graduation. If it hadn’t been for college we would still be together. If only I hadn’t been so eager to leave our small town then maybe – just maybe I wouldn’t have met you.

Ssh…be quiet

You open our daughter’s room! You have the audacity to think that I would put her in any form of danger? Leave her sleeping peacefully disconnected from this somber place she calls home.

….I remember the first time it happened. It was our anniversary and we had yet another one of our infamous blow ups. You told me that I would be nothing without you and that without you I wouldn’t be draped in such exquisite gems and couture garments. I vowed to never ask you for anything ever again and as I proceeded to remove the one thing that held us together, I felt the burning sting being planted on my cheek.

A sense of disbelief poured over me as the blood drained from my face. I told you I was leaving and never coming back, taking our daughter to go on and start a new life without you. It was in that moment that you looked so childlike and my motherly instincts kicked into high gear. I had to be there for you. You promised to never do it again. You gave me your word. You. 

Ssh…be quiet

You closed her door and, again, drag your feet ever so slowly calling my name. I’ve never been so intimidated in my life.

He came over earlier today to accompany me for my birthday – an intimate moment you stopped celebrating years ago. As the blended poison flowed through my body I expressed to him how I missed his touch, that I missed being back home – it’s been too long since I’ve last seen him and how if I could I would make a different decision. I hadn’t felt that loved in such a long time. He pulled me close; I inhaled his scent and in you walked…

Ssh…be quiet

I can hear you open the door to our bedroom; my heart begins to pound so violently that I feel a hole forming in my chest. I’m aware of my fate before it even happens. The look of death in your eyes, the vein protruding from your temples, the way your mouth is half-open as if you were breathing in my soul…You beat him away so bad to the point that his body would never be recognized. It was in that moment that I proceeded to hide and grab my only way out, now I sit in this closet…


Ssh…be quiet

My mind is filled with so many thoughts. How much I hate you, how much I need you, how much I love you. The voices in my head get louder and louder and I feel like they are screaming at me – you are screaming at me – making a mockery of me.

What happened to me?

I am not this woman.

This doesn’t happen to women like me.

I’m smart, sophisticated, attractive.

This is not what I imagined us to be.

The clinking sound of your belt coming off indicates that this will be one of if not the worst but it most definitely be my last. You walk slowly across the room to the closet where I am hiding and I know that it is all over.

Ssh…be quiet

I can see the shadows of your feet standing outside the door.

How did it come to this?

We used to be so happy, you and me – and it suddenly all went away.

But as I hold this steel in my hands, “be quiet” is what I tell myself. Stop thinking, everything will be over soon, there’s nothing more that can be done to me. I won’t give you the satisfaction of taking away my last breath. My pride won’t let you do that for I must do it myself.

The door has opened and I know that my life is over, but as these tears fall from my face and trail themselves down to my bosom, tell My daughter

I love her…

But mommy just couldn’t be strong anymore – my brain has stopped functioning, my heart is black and my soul is dead because I no longer love the way you lie…


By: Brittney Smith

Audio is Available – Press Play!

Photo Cred:

Did He Just Ask for His Money Back?

How would you feel if a man asked for his money back after a date? I feel like he ain’t shit.

Today on The Real ‘Girl Chat’ opened up with the tale from Lauren Crouch of nobaddatesonlygoodstories on Tumblr. I did a quick Google search, found her blog and sipped tea directly from the kettle (they didn’t get the story right):

She met with a guy from Tinder at a coffee shop. He invites her back to his apartment for “dinner” – penis à la carte. She rejected Fabio because what kind of woman eagerly goes home with a man she just met 32 minutes ago? Knowing that he has lost the battle they part ways. But then he texts her….


He said it was lovely meeting her and that they should do it again. At his house. For dinner. After two and a half hours she admits there wasn’t any chemistry so there will be no next time. Yo, he asked for his money back! Said he doesn’t like to waste money and he could use that again on another date. In the words of Lauren, “I don’t come with a money back guarantee!”#PettyWap

She was wrong, though, to sit through the entire date KNOWING that they didn’t have any chemistry. We, women, know on-sight whether it’s going down with you. To sit that long with someone who you see no future or tomorrow with makes you just as wack. Know when it’s time to go! I’m not about to sit here and waste my time – it’s as precious as Gabourey.

That reminded me of that one time I had to make an exit on that ass:

He kept calling me! Kept calling – kept calling. I never answered the phone or responded to a text because I didn’t care. This dude was trying to flex from the moment he asked me my name. Needless to say, we exchanged numbers and after two months of phone “tag” we met up. I got lit before I left because what if I didn’t enjoy myself and needed to be headed out?

Of course, I was right! We met downtown for happy hour! I asked him where he would like to go and he hadn’t thought that far ahead – strike one. I decide on a bar, we take our seats and survey the menu. After 8 minutes he pipes up, “I don’t eat any of this food.”

“So, you telling me you don’t eat chicken, burgers, pizza, salad, burritos, sandwiches?” I asked


“What do you eat?”

“I eat healthily.” – strike two; you ain’t gotta lie to kick it. Claiming to eat healthily but you over here looking like Rick Ross before the pears. I’m irritated y’all. Now the waitress has arrived to take our orders. Being classy I ordered a glass of house red because my high was dragged down and I needed a pick-me-up.

He orders water. When the waitress leaves he says,

“You know I don’t drink or smoke either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

How can you not do either of the two? And here he goes lying again. Lips as black as Flavor Flav and you don’t smoke? C’mon Craig. The waitress has returned with my glass and I’m forty percent interested in the dude.

I’m praying to the heavens that once this liquor penetrates my system I won’t be so… ah – sober.

“Tell me about yourself,” I say.

“What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from, where do you live, how many siblings do you have?” I need to find a way to turn this around immediately.

“That’s a lot don’t ya think?”

“No. Not at all. Why are we here if we aren’t trying to get to know each other?”

He’s giving me the eye as if I just questioned his condom size.

“Well you know I’m a bouncer and I don’t like to let ugly girls in and I actually don’t particularly care for people who come from St. Paul,” he replied.

“Didn’t I meet you in Saint Paul? On the bus? And this conversation is not stimulating at all,” I spat.

“Yeah, but the people are so fake and broke. Ya know they wear fake jewelry and clothes. That never happens over in Minneapolis.”

Strike three. Our waitress has returned to take our orders but I had to tell her to fallback for hot minute cause I am o-v-e-r this shit. “Considering you’re opposed to the food in this fine establishment and don’t drink, I believe this here is where I leave you.  I’m just gonna take my wine over to another table and hope you have a pleasant day.”

He just sat there. Confused. In Awe. Disbelief. Now he has to regain his pride so he hits me with,

“I hope you don’t think I’m supposed to cry about it or be sad.”

“Quite frankly, sir, I don’t give a damn what you do or how you do it. This is ain’t for me.”

Bye Felicia.

Photo Cred:


Where Are You Now When I Need You??

Nightfall is always the most melancholic time of day. It’s when I think about you.

And I know that you think of me, too. But do I keep you up at night?

I sense you everywhere except inside – you’re nowhere in sight.

I can’t sleep and honestly, I’m not surprised

Without you alongside I hardly feel alive.

Distant peers have become parents – husband’s & wives.

Shit, I’m not asking for all that; just to forever be in each other’s lives

Too inexperienced to be tormented over a half-empty bed

and yet, far too rational for such clutter to be in my head.

See, I know that you love me – it’s already been laid out on the table.

No fable.

True story, my dear.

…but just what the f*ck am I supposed to do until you can come here

and be incessantly near?

(12:59 AM)

Photo Cred:

Well Wishes to My Opposition 

Pray for Em

One of the worst things that could ever happen to a woman is running into her ex. Proper ex-lover protocol is something that we should be passing along to our daughters because it is inevitable. See, when you run into the past make sure that you are F’d up! Fierce, Fly and Fashionable. When you meet that fool again the last thing you need is for him to see you in sweats, a crumbled t-shirt from the hamper, flyaways and disarray eyebrows. I can’t be caught out here slipping. Well wishes to my opposition.

The Warm-Up

True story: I was pulling into Best Buy and became aware of Mitch* entering the same building. I noticed he gained all the weight I lost, needed a haircut and pushed a fashionable stroller. Children are popular items among my dearly departed’s. I didn’t get a good look at his co-captain but she’s irrelevant to the story. However, I did notice her backside where I still won that contest 💁🏽. Once I parked, I quickly sent a snapchat message to my dear friend (shout out to you girl) to let her know what I was about to encounter. I took a deep breath, checked my teeth, glanced over my clothes for stray dog hairs and trekked on.

Upon entering the premises I surveyed the floor to spy his location. After clocking in on the target, I then spoke with an associate about my primary concern and then opted to “look around” while they took a deeper look at things. With my buzzer in tow, I doubled back behind the appliance department and braced myself before I was to walk past him.


Freakishly, I checked my appearance in the reflection of a microwave, reposition my breasts for more cleavage and then served life to the opposition. It was such perfect timing as he turned around facing my direction just as I pitted the corner. I could feel his eyes on my ass. You know, your girl B was tight and right, face beat and brows on point.

I walked over to the phone department and just who do I see of my side of the store? Mitchell! I didn’t dare keep my gaze because I was sure that would lead to eye contact. Ain’t nobody got time for that. My buzzer buzzed, my issues were solved and I left.

Back in my car, I patted myself on the back for being moi and drove off.

Next time I run into an ex, I’ll strut over, make small talk, flip my hair, turn to their concubine and extend my hand:

      “Hi, my name is Brittney.”

*Names have been changed

Don’t You Walk Out on Me!

Say, Imagine This:

I am not the kind of girl that you can just turn away from. Oh no! Don’t you walk away from me! Just the other day I’m watching this show and the guy goes to a party, gets wasted and doesn’t really remember the intricate details of the night before. To his surprise, the next morning, he starts getting pictures from this girl and he has no idea who she is nor where she came from. Eventually, he learns that a “friend” of his supplied her with the digits but he’s married.

He’s never texted her back or had any type of conversation with her even though she is coming for him. After a week he goes to his friend and says, “yo, the girl from the party is still hittin’ me up. You put me in this situation, what should I do? I love my wife.” Aiight, cool. I respect that. Especially since he hasn’t responded to any of her advances but explain to me why you haven’t blocked her ass yet.

You Ain’t Fooling Nobody

You can press ignore all you want but you are still allowing it to happen! I can’t go for that. I mean an ass shot he can kiiinda get away with because it’s so many fucking booty models these days. My thing is why is gotta be in your possession like that, huh? Why the shit gotta be on-call when you need it? He wrong. Point blank.

He goes on to ask his friend what is the difference between having the photo on his phone and watching a little porn? His friend says the difference is the girl in the photo can become a reality. Needless to say, he doesn’t take his friend’s advice and decides to email the picture to himself.

Later that day, when he gets home, he greets his wife,

“Ohh baby, how you doing? The lines were long at the supermarket…”

BOOM – the emailed booty pics! The Mrs has questions but he defends that he hasn’t responded. She notices glitter on his neck and says he smells like a strip club.  He says, “I think it’s best if I’m not here now.”

I Ain’t With the Storming Out Shit

Nah nigga. Nope. That type of shit don’t work for me.

And you know what she said to him?!?! She told him to go and that she doesn’t care!
I don’t think so.
I think it’s best you sit down and think about your actions out on the couch and when you ready to apologize come find me. Cause you ain’t about to go nowhere.

*** There may be times when he truly needs his space to take a walk or just go sit in the garage but not in this situation here.

Let Me Clear My Throat

We have already established that the girl in the photo is actually fuckable. Furthermore, you still have access to your phone and probably still have her number since she’s not actually blocked. When he leaves the nest that leaves nothing but opportunity for him to make it a reality. If he leaves the house covered in glitter and already smelling like the strip club don’t the strip club smell like p-u-s-s-



#Relationship Goals

Decrees of Monogamy

Why are relationships failing these days? One minute you’re in love, filled with itty-bitty balls of sunshine next your sulking in the corner, feeling sorry for yourself. It’s because they failed to practice the four fundamentals that secure longevity, monogamy, and happiness. I am so unbothered by your followers and filters. Are you an honest person? Can I trust you? Is there intimacy? Are you ready to commit? What are your relationship goals?


If I no longer trust you it is because you have been dishonest. Why lie? Either you did or did not. It is or it ain’t. Also, be very aware of the difference between trust and honesty. Trust stems from honesty as something you build over time through communication and faithfulness. To be honest is a characteristic one must possess internally as it is a choice. When you are dishonest in your relationship you are no longer worthy of trust.


Don’t be the woman trolling through his phone whenever he dips into the bathroom~Stop talking Facebook checking for mutuals~Never lay next to a man you can’t trust

Girlfriend, it is a waste of time and sure to give you wrinkles. Why don’t you have the password? Obviously he is doing something that you are not meant to be made aware of, right? Now you have to ask, do you trust him and determine whether or not he trusts you. This is not to say that you are thereby authorized to his call log but why he is dipping into the other room to answer the phone? First things first: why are you even with a man that prompts you to do all of this things in the first place? Something is seriously off in this relationship, wouldn’t you say?

“They don’t want the truth. They can’t haaandle the truth.” Have a seat. This may be tired but please, look me in my eye and offend me with the truth than to ever let me walk about living a lie. Are you working late and not getting worked on? When I become aware that I can longer trust you then I trust me enough to move the hell on; I know that I will never disappoint myself.


I cannot stress this enough: sex does NOT equate to intimacy. To be intimate with someone encourages a spiritual connection and creates a foundation of wellness within another person. The majority of people are daunted by the chances of rejection that they miss the opportunity to connect with another human being. Have you ever had someone run you a hot, steamy bath after a long days work and just watch you bathe? The ultimate beauty of intimacy is that it is not synonymous with nakedness.  Take a pottery class together, enjoy long bike rides to nowhere, or hold hands while watching a movie. Anybody can remove their clothes, lay down and engage but dare to be vulnerable.


Are you present in your relationship? To be in a relationship you need to be dedicated and alert because they are hard work! If you aren’t prepared, or willing, to put in the time and effort perhaps now is not a good time to sign up. Nobody wants a part-time lover! This is a salaried position that requires you to work nights, weekends, holidays and overtime. You ever heard of somebody taking a sick or vacation day from a relationship? — Me neither.

It is also vital that you pay attention to the energy surrounding your relationship. Did you forget an important date? Has he been distant? Are you holding frustrations hostage? Commit to being a good friend, a good listener with the intent to understand and selflessness.


Every relationship and its ruling vary upon the understanding that was established and pre-negotiated at the beginning of the courtship. What works for me and mine may not be suitable for you and yours, and that’s okay. **Remember to take the time for little things for when you start slipping somebody will be waiting to slide.


Valentine’s Day Festivities

Who wants to spend money going on your typical Valentine’s Day dinner date and movie when your money can be better spent creating the ultra sexy atmosphere at home?

Leave my house to sit in traffic, an overly fragrant movie theater and carb loaded snacks? Save it – baby let’s stay in! “50 Shades of Grey”? Oh, please! That’s for women who aren’t comfortable with their sexuality. If you plan to stay indoors this Valentine’s Day weekend, here are few ways to have a hot night at home:

Three Course Meal

For Valentine’s day, the last thing that should be on the menu is leftovers. You want something satisfying and light. You don’t want anything too heavy otherwise you both will be either too tired, too full or both. To impress your man here is a simple three-course meal where each meal has an aphrodisiac guaranteed to leave you in the mood:

Appetizer Spinach & Artichoke Dip. Artichokes are an aphrodisiac by legend; Swedish women who felt neglected in the bedroom would serve their husbands’ artichokes to increase their desire and stamina. Whether you believe the myth or not, artichokes are packed with vitamins and antioxidants that are critical to proper body function and blood flow.

Main CourseOysters Rockefeller. 18th century Venetian lover-boy Giacomo Casanova reportedly ate 50 oysters for breakfast every morning! Apparently to stir arousal before his legendary trysts. Oysters are high in zinc and contain amino acids that trigger the production of sex hormones. And did I mention that oysters closely resemble an exquisite part of the female anatomy?

Dessert – Chocolate Fondue Dessert Bar. Create your own dessert bar using only aphrodisiacs! Cherries, pomegranates, watermelon, strawberries, pineapples, and bananas! Drizzle the fruit with honey (also an aphrodisiac) and using either a toothpick or a fork dip the fruit in some dark chocolate and enjoy!

Wine – Good wine is a must for this sexy evening. I, personally, recommend a red wine such as a seductive Pinot Noir, a sleek Chianti or a wild Zinfandel. If you need a little guidance Wine Folly has you covered.

Erotic Board Game

Regular old sex dice are kinda played, don’t you think? Step your game up! Instead of wasting ten bucks hit up a goodwill or Amazon for enticing games like ‘Naughty Bingo’ or ‘Kama Sutra’. You can also go to a Barnes & Noble and buy ‘Sex Checks’.


Regardless of what you have already eaten, you – girl, are the real dessert. Before heading home stop by Victoria’s Secret for some uber provocative lingerie; and for my plus-size women, Lane Bryant will not disappoint you. If you want to really, W-O-W your man, check out Frederick’s of Hollywood, these sexy, “come-hither” numbers are the one secret that Victoria has no idea about.

**If you feel uncomfortable in lingerie because you are self-conscious that’s okay! Model the ensemble for your man and have him take pictures. Leave him memorized and begging to undress you.

Serve Up Some Love

Now it’s up to you! Make you sure you have plenty of candles, a good Pandora playlist, and zero interruptions. Partake in a steamy shower together, a massage or a slow dance. For a valentine’s day visual check out my favorite YouTube guru – Nitra B’s, ‘Sexy Night In‘.


10 Things I Want to Say to a Black Man


10 Things I Want to Say to a Black Man

  1. Black Man; You are the most ingenious individual to take presence in the realm of the universe. Take a minute to reflect on what type of world we would be living in had it not been for your theories to correct, develop, innovate, refine and transform the world. The leadership that ripples through your veins is the equivalent to many that came before you. For when I look at you I see the power of your thoughts through your eyes like Martin, I read the dominance in your conscious mind through your smile like Malcolm and I hear the charismatic melody of your words through your soul like Barack.
  2. You are my best friend. You accept me for my puzzled state of mind and concentrate on what makes me incomparable.
  3. I need you to comfort me at times when I don’t know what to do with myself or who I am supposed to be for you. I cherish your confirmation in which your mind, body and soul belong to me. For you to reassure me that at every step in our journey that you are legitimate and that your desire for me is undeniable.
  4. I recognize your battle in which you endure every day in society. However it does not justify your actions. Be able to take your animosity and turn it into something delicate. Being a man does not indicate that you cannot show compassion or makes you less of a person with authority. There is strength in your delivery and there is nothing further you can express to me that would ever make me see you as less than what you are.
  5. Protection is what you mean to me. When I’m alone and have nowhere else to go or no one to turn to – you are there to shield me from the dangers and harm of the outside world. In your arms is where I feel the most sheltered. The potency of your frame and the compassion in your hands gives me everything I need to know that I will be okay.
  6. I commit my body, my heart, my mind and my soul unto you. I give you my life and would be forever grateful if I could have just as much of yours.
  7. I welcome you into my life and will never try to make you more than you are. When are with me I want you to feel as if you can be yourself and never feel like you need to compromise the individual on the interior for the cliché messages of the exterior.
  8. When your body communicates with mine – it’s something like enchanting. The command of your hands, the forcefulness in your thighs and the stamina in your heart keeps the sexual desires between us like no other I’ve ever known. Not another being can deliver the pleasure you give. Your movements take me to a place of euphoria and with every plunge you take inside, I feel our souls intertwine and as I progress into the galaxy of us it is that exact moment in which we become one. As you release yourself into my chambers and place that final kiss across my lips, it is then that you realize that you are at home.
  9. Can you do something for me? Can you promise that you will stop running away from things that you find difficult to deal with? Can you promise that whenever you feel the need to express your thoughts – you will come to me? When things seem to fall apart, address them and examine how you can make the best of the situation. The only feature I ask you do is take responsibility for the actions you construct. When he grows up one day and inquires where you are and why you left, do not make me the antagonist. I can illustrate how to treat a woman but I can never demonstrate for him how to be a man.
  10. The day you looked at me and made your way over as if there was no one else in the room except the two of us and asked me for my name, there was something in your hello that made me catch my breath and take notice of this king before me. When you talked to me your eyes stayed fixed on mine, never wandering over my body but rather trying to find the story within the deep brown that reflected back into yours. After the first date, you walked me to my door in the rain and right before I turned to go inside you grazed my hand and in that touch I felt an electric current that shot bolts from my brain to the bottom of my feet. You put your arms around my waist, I stood on my toes and from the moment our lips first touched – I knew it was love.
Photo Cred:pinterest

Bad Sex? Know When It’s Time to Go!

Be Stingy With Your Vagina

Life is way too short to have bad sex; especially when you know what good is. As much as we know this, women are laying down for a little slice of heaven and ending up with a nugget from hell. Ladies, it’s time to get up! Your body’s sacred and it’s a gift that you give to someone every time you undress. If the deposit is not substantial then you reserve the right to cancel that transaction. Now, I’m going to spill my tea with the hopes that I inspire another woman to know when it’s time to go!

Getting That Old Thing Back

I had once connected with an ex-boyfriend who I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. I got a message on Facebook and we rapped for a while until he gave me his number. We had made plans to see each other later that night after I turned up at the club. In a drunken stupor, thanks to good ‘ol JD, I made the 10-minute drive to my late-night rendezvous and had a very pleasant mid-morning minus the full fledge morning hangover.

Here’s where things went way, way left:

Because I had such a good time (so I thought) we made plans to see each again later that week. We caught up, we laughed, we ate, smoked a doobie and then it was time…

Sex With an Ex? Next, Please!


Somehow the blissful memories of intoxicated ecstasy were abducted by the atrocious, Rasta reality. The sex was hooooooorible! I tried with all my might, y’all,  to make it work and it was a no-go. Without delay, and as politely as I could, I said, “I don’t think this is working out.”

He seemed lost and confused and was ready to try again until I put my put my hand up and said, “may I have a towel, please?” I excused myself to the restroom, cleaned up, got dressed and made my way to the door. He was sitting in the living room waiting for my return as if our time together would continue. In the biggest voice, I could muster out of my 5’3″ body, I looked at the 6’4″ giant and said, “I’m leaving now”. I’m bombarded with questions geared towards my future whereabouts. I did not want to have that conversation about why I was leaving right away so I declined the interview, grabbed my coat and dipped out to never to hear from him again.

Cancel That Shit, Girl!

How many times do you go out on a date, with either an ex or someone new, and always let your best girl know ahead of time that she needs to call you with a made-up emergency when you feel like the date is going all wrong?

First of all, that move is as played out as the Kardashian’s. If the date or the sex is wack: ABORT MISSION. You are not a child and therefore don’t need an excuse from your mother to leave school early. Shawty you confident, chic, sexy and sophisticated. With that being said if the scene is running off script, you gracefully bow out and exit center stage left.

You owe it to yourself to be with your time, energy and body: if you’re not feeling the flow – know when it’s time to get up and go.


Intimacy Ain’t Always Sex

Sex Ain’t Better Than Love

This morning, I was on Instagram and saw a post that read “Ever stayed JUST because the intimacy was amazing?” First of all, it’s the wording of the question. Sex should never be confused with intimacy because they are not the same thing; living in two completely different zip codes. With the lack of knowledge that so many people have in today’s world, we have to ask just what exactly is sex and intimacy and makes them different?

Let’s start by clearly defining our key terms:

Sex(v) – the act of intercourse.

Intimate(adj) – associated in close personal relations.

Relations(n) – a significant connection between things or people.

And by supplying these basic definitions we have already answered the question, “are they different?”

What is Sex Anyway?

Sex is exactly what it is: sex. No more and no less. As human beings, we are animals and our main goal here on Earth is to reproduce and populate. Religious texts contradict the notion that we are indeed mammals and by design – we have sex. No one tells the dog to only sleep with the female we brought home from the pound for it is in his nature to pounce and in hers to let him get on it. That man you are dealing with is the same way and that’s probably what makes you stay in a relationship longer than you need to. You’re blinded by the sex thinking that it is intimate but if he can’t crack your mind and lay it down on your soul – you need to let it go. Chances are you’re looking for intimacy.

Referring back to our key definitions, clearly, relations and intimacy share a more distinct connection than sex.  When you have a major connection with another human being it usually leads to a relationship, where there will be guaranteed intimate moments due to the closeness of said relations.

Therefore Intimacy Is…

Intimacy is the exchange of energy between souls that which creates the foundation for wellness. It does not begin with the unbuttoning of blouses but rather a phrase or a look. I remember the time my Honey said to me, “what’s wrong and don’t say nothing because I can hear it in your voice – you’re talking lower than usual.” First response, I thought it was creepy but it became one of the most beautiful and intimate things he (and anyone else for that matter) has ever said to me. It means he listens, pays attention and picks up on the very essence of who I am. When you and your significant other are intimate with each other it creates a bond that’s hard to break – it is the art of vulnerability, the true definition of nakedness.



Now you can certainly partake in fairly decent sex without sharing nouns and adjectives with someone. One night stands are the best example of no-strings-attached sex. Maybe you were just dumped and need a rebound or are just incredibly horny; either way, you’re out on Friday and Mister over by the bar is looking like an uber-fresh slice of Apple Pie à la Mode – indulge in what makes this deliciousness because that man, much like that slice, it’s not something you intend to satisfy yourself with every day. There should be no feelings of remorse or lack of integrity.

Ladies, you’re an animal – be it cub or cougar – and sometimes you just want to get laid. However, throwing caution to the wind, just know that sex without intimacy, much like a one night stand, usually resembles your high school boyfriend who thought he could “beat it up” and make you cum in the same 12 minutes and 35 seconds it takes him.

All-in-all, I never want to see people, especially women confusing the act of sex with the delicacies of intimacy:

Sex is something that you do. Intimacy is the soulful connection between the two.

Photo cred: &

Why Do Women Insist on Being Called Bitches?


Yo – who you callin’ a …

In this past week, I’ve seen bitch used and abused and given glory. I’m annoyed, to say the least. I just don’t understand why women insist on being called bitches.

  1. So I got this friend whose guy just might call her a bitch if his emotions get the best of him. I get that in the midst of toxic wordplay, jabs get thrown and things get hectic. But bitch though? Of all the other things I could be and possible am, you came up with bitch? How original. Here’s where the problem lies: because there are worst things that could’ve been said, there is acceptance of this word. I object! 
  2. I was out cruising and at some point, someone I don’t know asks a question, “should I be mad that he called my bitch a bitch?” Seriously, my dude? You have no respect for her or yourself and if she’s your bitch why can’t she be his bitch too?

I really feel like this whole bitch thing resembles what some black people are attempting to do with the “N” word. No. Just no. When you call yourself a bitch in general conversation you allow others, especially men, to do the same. 

What kind of Bitch are YOU??

Bad bitch. Boss bitch. Pretty bitch. Top bitch. No one cares what word you put in front of it – a bitch is a bitch is a bitch. My grandmother instilled in me a bitch of any sort is not who or what I am. I carry that with me every day and in everything I do. For example, my Honey has never used that term directly or indirectly. I eavesdrop on his conversations from time to time (don’t judge me) and I caught right at the end, “my bit- my wife will kill me, man, I can’t do that.” Let me just tell you, if I didn’t respect him before I do now even more. Why? Because he knows I’m not his bitch or anyone else’s. I never told him I heard that phone call because he said what he said due to how he felt.


The Point Is…

Sir, I am no bitch; not in public or in private [well maybe in private but that’s my prerogative].  Someone old and wise said, it’s not what someone calls you but instead it’s what you answer to. False. I know that my name is not “bitch” so, of course, I would never answer to that. Yet in still, when you know my name is Brittney, you needs not to ever address me by any other.


One bitch. Two bitch. 

Red bitch. Blue bitch. 

Don’t be a bitch. 

Be an individual. 

Bitches come a dime a dozen. 

Be a woman of statute because if you don’t think so, neither will anyone else.