Skip to main content

What About Me?

I am not a jealous person by nature. I need to say that first because what just happened to me hit me like a ton of bricks.

I'm in one of Starbucks' many locations in the Southern California area, and a mother and her children walked in. The mother was pretty in a delicate sort of way, and her children were cute, too. I could see her features on her daughter face. Her camel-colored daughter had not, however, inherited her blonde hair. And in the instant I thought it, my heart sank in my chest in a way reserved for happy couples.

Before we go further, this isn't a racial issue, per se. Even though the bling on mommy's finger almost blinded me -- literally -- that's not what hurts. What I want to understand is why no chocolate-colored man ever wanted to put a ring on it when it came to me.

There are times when I don't care that I'm one of several melanin-rich women that haven't been selected in the game of life. The consolation we have is that we're not alone in being picked last. But can I just say that I am tired of being passed over -- for whatever reason. I'm too fat. I'm too dark. I'm too outspoken. It's not a good feeling at all.

So when I see women who don't look like me with kids that could be in my family, it can be a bit disheartening. And understand -- I don't begrudge her for her life or her love. I honestly am happy for any woman who can survive coupledom long enough to reproduce.

But when will it be my turn? I'm no longer in the "young and sexy" category. I'm now "a woman of a certain age." And I don't mind it at all. If I had the choice, I don't think I'd ever go backwards -- unless I could take all the life lessons with me. No...what bugs me is that I feel like time is slipping by me faster than I care to acknowledge.

A 45-year-old woman can still get married. If she starts soon enough after the wedding, she may still be able to have kids. And then there's me.

(SN: This is me whining and being overly dramatic. I realize that. Please humor me.)

I do wonder who could possibly want me. I also wonder if there are men on my level who'd be willing to take me on and love me. 

Okay...that's enough wallowing -- even for me. Back to your scheduled programming...

Comments

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. 
Yeah...right.