Skip to main content


I wish that someone had a pill that would take away heartache. I'd probably become an addict right now.

My heart is just hurting right now. I realize that I want to belong to someone. I know that's not very pro-woman, but that's what I've always wanted. As I type this, I realize that it's what I've wanted all my life.

My mom, in her finite wisdom, gave me my father's name. Since she didn't marry him -- or allow me to have a relationship with him -- I've never lived in a home with people who shared my last name. While it doesn't seem like a big deal, it always put me a position to divorce myself from any family situation I was in.

Fast forward to now. I want to get married and take my husband's last name. To be clear, I probably wouldn't use it professionally. But as far as the household was concerned, I want us all to be on one accord.

One of the many things that New Boo told me was that it was going to be me and him. He also said that he wanted me to be his family. I believed him -- and I loved him for it. It made me happy to know that no matter what was going on with everyone else, he was my person.

But guess what? We weren't married. And he was able to divorce himself from our situation. The man who said he wanted it to be me and him flipped the script. He decided that it was every man -- or woman -- for him or herself.

Now I'm back to square one. And it hurts. And guess what? I can't go to him with this pain. And I want to. But what's the point?

Where is that pill??? I need it...


Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Yeah...About That...

I'm watching Scandal, and Mellie was talking about how lonely it is to be the president. She spoke about how men have a problem with regular powerful women, but being the leader of the free world comes with a chastity belt.
I get it.
I'm nowhere near the leader of the free world. I'm not even the leader of free lunch, but I get it. If men perceive you to have one more drop of power than they do, they can't handle it.
This is my life. At least it is when it comes to the men I've known.
It's not even like that for me.
I don't even have enough juice to get what I want at work.
But yet I'm seen as intimidating.