Closure

I once read a book entitled: If You Want Closure, You Need To Start With Your Legs. I thought the title of the book was quite tacky, but it wasn't tacky enought to stop me from opening the pages of the book up and reading everything that it had to offer. I didn't get through much of the book, but I did make it to the part that discussed the title in particular, and it was very interestign to me. One of the main things that intrigued me was the fact that it was a man writing the book. A black man, who had been a self-proclaimed 'pimp', who had dogged women and watch women get dogged by numerous amounts of men. He had watched women perpetuate a vicious cycle of letting themselves be abused and used by men, primarily for sexual favors.
It dawned on me that the idea of women getting closure from closing their legs first began to sound like something that most women should hear. Here was a man who had used women for sex, and he realized that the most important and precious thing a woman should offer a man on the first night should be her spirit, her personality, her character. Not her panties.
Its very important to note that all of the things that women do to scare men away dont always seem that obvious. Men and women are delicate and intricate human beings who have many issues accompanying them. Each one should be dealt with independently.

2/10/09 Closure doesn't mean you aren't reaizing the sexual nature of your being as a human, it only means that you're consciousness won't allow for you to be victimized or objectified any longer.
The cycle has to end, and in order for that to happen,women have to gain access to their own consciousness and tap into their intuition. A bit of self-actualization has to take place as well.
That self-actualization means, in order to be who you are, you have to figure out who you are, what you like, what makes you truly happy, how you express yourself, your limitations and the non-negotiables. When you set limits and boundaries with men, and clear expectations, then it's a lot harder for them to play you for the fool.

6/11/09 Closure is a cool thing. I have realized that when a woman closes her legs and begins to relate to men from her soul, genuinely caring and loving them in a manner that is good, she has opened a new point of entry into her heart, and her beautiful soul, where the orgasm is everlasting and more powerful than anything that can be achieved through physical sexual contact.

Facing Hard Truths

The truth is hard to face when you're standing in the mirror gazing at it. For me, it was even harder to face when it began to gaze back at me. I had been facing somethings in my life that I couldn't handle. I began participating in negative behaviors that were unacceptable but I justified my response to my actions because of what I had been through. My way of coping with the harshness of the reality that had been laid before me was to try and avoid all hurt, pain, loss and guilt at all costs. I would avoid the fact that I wasn't doing my school work. I would ignore the fact that I was being used, because I wanted a man's love. I didn't know what it felt like. And then I knew. At one stage in my life I even tried to ignore the fact that my belly started to grow and my hips started to spread a little wider.
If I could ignore it, it didn't exist to me. I would ignore people who I didn't like. I would avoid people who I did like for fear that they might ask me how everything was doing. I didn't like to lie. But that's what solidified the sediment. The lies. The avoidance.

The Rock Cycle

Turning to stone was a painful process, but a long and steady one. It was accompanied with changes to my environment and changes to my mind. It affected my relationships and it affected my school work. Its not easy turning to solid rock. Theres a lot of different elements involved in the process, and it takes extremely hot temperatures to make the change ultimately go into affect. And the process seemed to never-end, now that I look back in retrospection.

It affected every area of my life. Heres how: With my relationships, particularly the one with my mother who was the closer figure of authority to me. I became hardened toward her, which many people say is true of children. They negate their mothers affection with vengeance and resentment, only to feel guilty about their childish actions at a later time. Funny thing was, my mother did everything for me and I began to get hostile with her, and with myself and my family. When it came to my father, who, although he might have made guest appearances, I was always a little warmed by his presence. Like a piece of the puzzle of my life had been lost and occasionally it would return to help me feel complete again.

Lithification: How I Became a Rock

It never dawned on me that I was turning into stone. Like Lots Wife who looked back. She turned around to face the burning city that she had known and loved, and the anguish that she had experienced was enough to turn her into solid rock. But she had been warned.
I sometimes imagine what kind of rock she turned into. Was her soul still present within somewhere? Or was she solidified in space and time, eternally? Her punishment for looking back.
I remember a song by Laurn Hill circa 1998. It was called "That Thing". The song is still one of my favorites because of its lyrical content. In one verse of the song she spews a lesson to young ladies: "...don't be a hard rock when you really are a Gem, baby girl, respect is just a minimum...", by far one of the most powerful statements of the song.
I think about that hard rock that Lauryn Hill talked about. And also about the Gem.
The figurative relationship between a rock and a young woman as opposed to a Gem, and the role that respect plays in that whole situation.
By allowing yourself to be disrespected, mainly by demeaning yourself for the usage of others, and the repetition thereof, you could turn to stone. Wow.
For years, I thought I was cute. Lol. I really did. I thought I was cute because boys liked me. I had a beautiful bronzed chocolate complexion, the highly criticized, yet highly desired super-curvaceous body that black women are known for (from the time I was 13), and I had the attitude of the Harlem streets that I grew up in. And it seemed to get me into a lot of trouble.
I had a daddy. At first. He was around. Him and my mom divorced when I was 12. He payed child support and make guest appearances at major events like graduation.
Mom was what held my family together. Family members split. Aunts a mystery - although one of my aunts really helped my family alot, at least for my teen years. Cousins a mystery. My grandmother on my mothers side, whom I love Dearly passed away when I was 10 from Pancreatic Cancer. All I had was my mother, my two sisters, and my brother.
We joined a religious organization. Trying to find friends. It backfired. My family re-grouped. As we were changing, our family structure changed a little. I started to rebel. I was confused and hurt and lonely. No one for support. No one to help me except my family. School work started to suffer. And when I was 15 and in the 10th grade, I was told I wouldnt graduate on time at the rate I was going. I was highly intelligent. So I knew that not graduating on time was something I didnt want to happen. I had to graduate on time. I had to get an education. No amount of rebelling could take away that value that had been instilled in me.
In my mind, no one understood me and my hurt. No one cared. My mother, who beared much pain in labor and thereafter, stood by my side always. My mother never gave up on me and I will always appreciate it. But the love I lacked from my father was missing, and it definetely made a difference. When I was younger, I knew that I could take on the world...I knew I didn't need anyone. But I realized as I got older that I was hurt by the absence of my daddy. I was hurt that he wasn't there.
I loved attention when I got it. At the age of fifteen, the only people who gave me any positive feedback were men. Boys too, but the men gave me manly attention. I was told I was beautiful, one guy even told me I was a 'Black Queen', lol. I laugh about it now. But its not funny. I was desired. Because my body turned men on. I wasn't valued because of who I was. I was desired and objectified.
I was being objectified, but since back then I didn't know what objectification was, I was at a disadvantage. I didn't know I was turning to stone. But I was.