I’m still here, folks… just chillin’ on my Tumblr. http://sojournersverdad.tumblr.com
“Don’t make me over…now that I’d do anything for you…Don’t make me over…now that you know…how I adore you…”
The most recent Keeping Up With the Kardashians episode disturbed me on so many levels. Regardless of how relevant one may feel that the family is, no one can deny that The Kardashian bunch has successfully branded themselves.
Watching Kanye West calmly stroll in and destroy Kim’s entire image with an arrogant wave of his hand…especially when that image was what attracted him to her in the first place was unsettling. Many blogs and message boards have murmured about the “change” in Kim’s style. She seems less glam…a little sloppy and not as carefully sculpted as before. To watch the transformation begin with this episode was disturbing – ESPECIALLY when it was evident that she was only doing it to seek the approval of her mate. To grow is one thing. To be
created by another is something altogether different.
She is not unlike many of us. We are born with a sense of who we are – our purposefulness developed in the womb, yet when we get out into the world, we allow others to dictate their image of who they envision for us.
“Accept me for what I am…accept me for the things that I do…”
One thing that I am learning is that if I am not confident in who I am in my core, it becomes easy for others take over who they think I should be. This post isn’t necessarily directed at women allowing themselves to be taken over by a romantic partner. We must remain cognizant of the demands of our parents, our children, our friends and colleagues. To paraphrase RuPaul – “We are all born naked. The rest is drag.”
Why are we allowing everyone else to choose our wardrobe?
UPDATE 1/27/2013: THIS HEFFA IS BATSHYT. O_O
“I have to hand it to her…. Rihanna is living the hell out of her life.”
I tend to agree. As reckless as her choices appear to be to those of us who watch her post drunken pics and curses on Twitter, taunt the new girlfriend of her abusive ex and disregard the advice of her professional peers and mentors – one thing is clear. Her LIFE is being LIVED – not packed away, hoarded, or stored in a box while waiting for a rainy day.
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Sometimes there are moments that hit me in the face and force me into the realization that I’m closer to middle age than not. Seeing this thread What’s The Difference Between Women Of The 90′s And Now? kinda threw me for a loop because it simultaneously made me realize that….I’m… *gasp* MUCH too old to be on some of these message boards that I used to love and that my generation may SERIOUSLY very well be the last of the “Jasmine Bellefleur’s”.
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“…from the moment I saw him on the sonogram scream, my husband and I locked eyes with joy and fear….”
~Facebook comment from TDJ
This comment has replayed in my mind over and over again since I read it on a friend’s FB page on a thread about the Trayvon Martin tragedy. The commenter was referring to the conflicting emotions that she felt when it was confirmed that she and her husband were having a male child. A black male child.
As much as I talk about living LIFE without fear, channeling positive energy, surrounding my family and loved ones daily with light and protection – I understood her words completely. And I can’t seem to shake them. As much as I look forward to hopefully one day watching my future son imitate his father’s walk…the one that makes me swoon…will I also be afraid that his stride will be TOO confident? Possibly intimidating? Or because I know he’ll probably inherit both his father and his mother’s quick wit (since sarcasm will probably be taught as a 1st language in my home, with English being the 2nd language), will he appear TOO cocky?
How do you balance raising your son to be proud, confident and unapologetically who they are while making sure that they understand the danger in being so? We can pretend that we’re post-racial all day long. But the truth of the matter is that MY son in a black hoodie and someone else’s son in a black hoodie will have completely different implications to the outside world. It’s hard not to look at my white friends’ sons in this “post-racial” world and know that there are some conversations that they’re never going to have to have with their children….or whisper in hushed tones with their spouses.