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Sunday, January 31, 2010

How To Avoid The "Get In Where You Fit In"

Before we begin this, I'm going to ask that for 5 good seconds, we pocket our varied  ideologies, notions, lifestyle choices and prejudices opinions. The idea is to explore womanhood in all our frailties and glory. With that being said...we are more than complex (and far more than this meager list encompasses). Let's go through the "types".

High Maintenance Diva ~
We see her in the club, dressed to the 9's, 10's and 11's. Eyeshadow, designer handbag and shoes to match, she's a lace front, Mac cosmetics spectre of royalty with a chip on her shoulder and a withering glare for any man in the wrong tax bracket. The only thing that prevents her from falling into "gold digger" status is the fact that she's paid for (without assistance) her entire costume.

Gold Digger/Bopper ~
Same sister in the club, but something is slightly "off". Her lacefront may be a couple of weeks old and her bag is knockoff adjacent, but not in any obvious way. She circles, flirts with, makes a spectacle of herself for "the right man". And who is Mr. Right? The flavor of the month. We'll see varieties of this woman on reality television, vying for the attentions of one man, willingly sacrificing her integrity, self respect and her immune system for the ability to say that "at some point, in my entire life, despite my ability to do for myself (or lack thereof), I slept with DrakeWeezyGucciInsertABallPlayerActorAPolitician...despite a lack of committment or mutual decision to build anything.

Sister Christian ~
Night Ranger reference aside, King James is her only companion. Trust that the first half of your conversation, she's busy praying that your lustful demons aren't undressing her fervent desire to remain celibate and the last half, she's trying to determine flower arrangements should she somehow pray you down the aisle into her constant Holy companion. Fall for the bait, and you'll end up like Joseph (Jesus' step daddy), second in her attentions and a victim to her self imposed martyrdom...(that was probably too harsh...*shrug*).

Ms. Independent ~
PDA compatible with a schedule too busy to date, estranged family members and a (or multiple) degrees in bitterness, in a variety of fields. On the surface, she's the idealized dream. No children, intelligent, "respectable" (or whatever passes for)...but her heart (and various other places) are the home of cobwebs and icicles. If you can get past her built in defenses, she'd be the prize. Too bad she's too busy for either of you to find out.

The Infant/Damsel In Distress ~
She affects a babygirl voice, attitude, lifestyle and encourages drama situations that require her constant rescue and deliverance. For a man whose self esteem is mainly derived from his "super hero" abilities, she's an endless abyss of wasted time and talents...that she'll never realize she possesses.

The Tomboy ~
The quintessential jeans and t~shirt girl who finds her value in doing what the boys can do, to the extent that she ignores her femininity as if it's a handicap. Sure, I understand that the daily application of make up is essentially a boring monotonous chore, and wearing frilly dresses/high heels can be uncomfortable...but to never (never ever? never ever?) acknowledge that you do indeed pee sitting down have girly side is a poor defense mechanism, especially when you're feeling dejected after the Rakim concert where you and your homeboy rapped every lyric in perfect harmony...but looked up to find him taking "her" home.

The Conscious Chick ~
Her aura, ancestors and horoscope make up an inviolate triumvirate (if you're lucky) designed to protect her from herself, yourself and any other selves that count. Every conversation is meant to reference her Godess~ness and before you speak words to her, you should pour out the libations of your conversations to dead relations...feel free to insert poetic snaps here. You in the present, will never gain her attention, until you (out of frustration) become the past...and yes, she'll light candles to your memory.

Never mind that all these women have something in common, besides an inner child already outfitted in her dream wedding dress screaming, "like me, have me, hold me, LOOOOOOOOOOVE me like a fairytale, please!!!" which is...when they all wake up in the morning, go to work, Walmart (or the Farmers Market) and are face to face with themselves. They don't see themselves fitting into any of these stereotypes.
(Yes, myself included...)
But ladies...(and the few brave gentlemen who tripped across the estrogen patch and found themselves in this "Girl Garden") we do. Occasionally, we blur the lines of all these dynamics, providing an equal measure of frustration and delight in anyone who happens across our paths. Is it any wonder that men tear their afros, goatees, locs, and scalps out wondering, "What does she WANT from me?!!!"
(Ummm...yes, myself included...)
I challenge that the sooner we recognize this, the sooner we can begin tweeking our individual recipes to something more palatable for all parties involved...

Yes, myself included.

(At this point, I think it's important that I welcome your comments, because frequently...I'm full of shi...  ideas.  So I'm welcoming comments...yes, all of them). 

1 comment:

  1. I think it is a fair assessment.. I was picking out the places where my walls definitely appear, and discovered I'm on the third floor of a three story house (insert off key singing here) It is a fair assessment to say we will never fully self actualize enough to kill all iterations of self destructive behavior, but at least I learned one thing from the copious amounts of cartoons I consumed... knowing is half the battle!


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