So, today I woke up with every intention of going to New York for my cousin's baby shower, but when I looked outside at 7:55 am the sight of beautiful white dust topping my neighbor's roofs and littering the streets negated that inclination.
I laid back down, notified my family of my impending absence and called my boyfriend. Long distance pillow talk under the covers, the second best thing since sliced bread. My real want to be warmed by his presence and the routine in which I was all too familiar with, moved me to ask him would he make it out to see me. True to form, he ran off his list of things he had to do for the day and followed up with a "We'll see what happens."
Well, see what happens:
It's almost 3:00 pm and for the first time in months, I woke up this morning cooked, cleaned (quite the domestic aren't I) and planned my Saturday alone in Philadelphia, without the hopes or wants of the people and things of the place called New York.
Listening to Nas, starting my day. And it's the end of the year, and God has me right where He wanted. Where he told me to stay in January.
Home. Brewing ice tea, writing to you.
Alone, but never by myself.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
December 5, 2009
Just my thought ladies and gentlemen, right or wrong. It's just what I'm feeling at the time...
And I warn before I begin, that for some of you this might be TMI, but I'm sharing nonetheless, if you choose to read on.
So for the last 11 months, I've been abstinent. Purposely. My mother always said that you should be able to count the number of men you have slept with on one hand. I took her advice, justified the fact that I was of a very different generation (Hello, I'm an 80's baby. Stratogem against the Black community aka the Crack Era) and added two hands to that. That's still pretty conservative!, right?
Anyway, months after parting ways with number 8 I stumbled across who would become number 9. A tragic 9, it was. You know how it is, when you think in order to officially close the door on one you need to partake with another? (Lesson: This is another one of the many myths men have perpetuated to fulfill their lustful wants. SMH. Just like a man Simple but Effective). Well, after a brief grace period (it should have been longer but I was then decieved by the malicious myth) there was a brief number 9.
Not that it was completely awful. It was just completely NOTHING (and that is awful). I immediately texted my girlfriend (while he was in the bathroom) exclaiming as much as I could via text:
"Number 9. A complete and utter waste of a number."
So, now I was in a dilemma. I was young, no where near marriage or the next boyfriend and I was already on number 9. One more and I'd be finished. Over! Commited to a nunnery (I know a little dramatic, but the energy is neccesary stay with me). Horriffed!
I had to come up with a plan. What would I do??? It was such a waste. Such a bad decision....
And that was it: It was a bad decision and not solely because it was a waste; although, that was obviously significant here. It was a bad decision because of the guiding factors it was based off of. It made me reflect on the driving forces behind 1-8. And I had to admit, that at 22 years old I was still determining who I shared my body with, what I risked my health, life as I knew it, and even spirituality (that came after much more reflection) for.
The first time I had sex, I just did it because everyone else had done it already and I was like hey what's the big deal. Number 2 was because I felt that I had mistakenly led the person on and I had to do it. Number 3 was my choice and a good one it was, but everyone after that was either because I figured I was supposed to or because he kept trying and I was tired of fighting him off (very different from wanting to) or because of some other outside influence. There was only one time that I honestly decided to because I wanted to (Number 3) and that was and still ranks as the best.
So what had I learned about sex in my lifetime? That 9 imperfections later, I still hadn't acquired the skill to make a conscious decision of my own about who I had sex with. And I was a "Grown A** Woman" as I often exclaimed. I talked to my girlfriends, my sisters, and most importanly my God about what I should do. I realized that my inability to choose completely for myself who I would partake with directly translated to my ability to enjoy the act itself. To be an active participant, in everyway I wanted to.
After much thought and prayer, I decided to embark upon a year of abstinence with the goal of developing the proper skills to partake, weeding out any unneccesary mistakes, and preventing the distraction of my spiritual development.
With only 6 weeks to go, I broke my abstinence and I'll have to face God because of that. But after 11 months I learned that:
1... there are way more people in the world refraining from sex than I ever thought (especially back when I first did it)
2...there is a reason why God said don't have sex until your married. It forces you to get to know the person you are dating. You guys actually talk and really learn about each other a lot quicker than you would if you were having sex. Think about it. When you first start having sex, it's all you do for at least the first two months, that's two months of no real communication. If you have sex early on, that's two months too long your with someone who you might discover is an asshole, and you've already given him the best of you.
3... he Will Wait! If a guy is really interested in you, he will wait. My boyfriend did, until I said I was ready. He never pressured me and even checked me at times. And trust me, he's not the square you would think he has to be to go for something like that.
4... finally, you weed out all the unneccesarys. A real man has self control. If someone is jumping on you within the first couple of weeks you know his intentions. If you tell him you're not ready and two dates later he's jumping on you again, you've made a discovery that two months of sex could have prolonged. He's an asshole.
Some of you may say, well you didn't do it. You couldn't go a whole year even when you were so close none of this even matters. And hey, to each it's own opinion. What I did do is, learn the value of sex, my body and most importantly myself.
And I warn before I begin, that for some of you this might be TMI, but I'm sharing nonetheless, if you choose to read on.
So for the last 11 months, I've been abstinent. Purposely. My mother always said that you should be able to count the number of men you have slept with on one hand. I took her advice, justified the fact that I was of a very different generation (Hello, I'm an 80's baby. Stratogem against the Black community aka the Crack Era) and added two hands to that. That's still pretty conservative!, right?
Anyway, months after parting ways with number 8 I stumbled across who would become number 9. A tragic 9, it was. You know how it is, when you think in order to officially close the door on one you need to partake with another? (Lesson: This is another one of the many myths men have perpetuated to fulfill their lustful wants. SMH. Just like a man Simple but Effective). Well, after a brief grace period (it should have been longer but I was then decieved by the malicious myth) there was a brief number 9.
Not that it was completely awful. It was just completely NOTHING (and that is awful). I immediately texted my girlfriend (while he was in the bathroom) exclaiming as much as I could via text:
"Number 9. A complete and utter waste of a number."
So, now I was in a dilemma. I was young, no where near marriage or the next boyfriend and I was already on number 9. One more and I'd be finished. Over! Commited to a nunnery (I know a little dramatic, but the energy is neccesary stay with me). Horriffed!
I had to come up with a plan. What would I do??? It was such a waste. Such a bad decision....
And that was it: It was a bad decision and not solely because it was a waste; although, that was obviously significant here. It was a bad decision because of the guiding factors it was based off of. It made me reflect on the driving forces behind 1-8. And I had to admit, that at 22 years old I was still determining who I shared my body with, what I risked my health, life as I knew it, and even spirituality (that came after much more reflection) for.
The first time I had sex, I just did it because everyone else had done it already and I was like hey what's the big deal. Number 2 was because I felt that I had mistakenly led the person on and I had to do it. Number 3 was my choice and a good one it was, but everyone after that was either because I figured I was supposed to or because he kept trying and I was tired of fighting him off (very different from wanting to) or because of some other outside influence. There was only one time that I honestly decided to because I wanted to (Number 3) and that was and still ranks as the best.
So what had I learned about sex in my lifetime? That 9 imperfections later, I still hadn't acquired the skill to make a conscious decision of my own about who I had sex with. And I was a "Grown A** Woman" as I often exclaimed. I talked to my girlfriends, my sisters, and most importanly my God about what I should do. I realized that my inability to choose completely for myself who I would partake with directly translated to my ability to enjoy the act itself. To be an active participant, in everyway I wanted to.
After much thought and prayer, I decided to embark upon a year of abstinence with the goal of developing the proper skills to partake, weeding out any unneccesary mistakes, and preventing the distraction of my spiritual development.
********
1... there are way more people in the world refraining from sex than I ever thought (especially back when I first did it)
2...there is a reason why God said don't have sex until your married. It forces you to get to know the person you are dating. You guys actually talk and really learn about each other a lot quicker than you would if you were having sex. Think about it. When you first start having sex, it's all you do for at least the first two months, that's two months of no real communication. If you have sex early on, that's two months too long your with someone who you might discover is an asshole, and you've already given him the best of you.
3... he Will Wait! If a guy is really interested in you, he will wait. My boyfriend did, until I said I was ready. He never pressured me and even checked me at times. And trust me, he's not the square you would think he has to be to go for something like that.
4... finally, you weed out all the unneccesarys. A real man has self control. If someone is jumping on you within the first couple of weeks you know his intentions. If you tell him you're not ready and two dates later he's jumping on you again, you've made a discovery that two months of sex could have prolonged. He's an asshole.
Some of you may say, well you didn't do it. You couldn't go a whole year even when you were so close none of this even matters. And hey, to each it's own opinion. What I did do is, learn the value of sex, my body and most importantly myself.
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