Let’s enter the new year wiser and ready for the winds of change.

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Photo by Junior REIS on Unsplash

As we all know, 2020 proved to be a harrowing year for black women. We watched women who looked like us be thrown into dumpsters, shot, insulted and dragged. Every other month continued to reveal our vulnerability to ourselves and the world. If 2020 didn’t show black women that all we have is each other then (and the few who choose to stand as our allies), then to put it frankly, no other year will. Although it’s a new year, there will always be people who will use their position on the social, political or economic hierarchy to degrade those who are below them. …


If we care about the future of our girls, we’ll do well to remember that.

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Photo by Kiana Bosman on Unsplash

Up until this point, my pieces have worked to address misogynoir perpetrated by black men, the larger society, and the black community. In a recent article “An Open Letter To Black Men: You’re Proximity To Us Isn’t Enough” I discuss a viral video of a black male Youtuber who used his platform to condemn a black woman to the fate of dying alone due to her ‘average’ looks, single mother status, and hesitancy to ‘submit.’ Here, I observed how despite the many black men who were eager to host sermon’s telling black women that we were too defective and broken to be worthy of anything and any man (even them), there were too many black women who were lining up ready to hear it. Even the woman who was subject to verbal abuse stated that she liked the show of the man who was currently telling her she was undeserving. This incident drew attention to the fact that although black men have definitely helped fan the flames of misogynoir, black women have sold ourselves and our daughters short. By supporting men who actively work against our own interests as black women, laying down our lives for those who would never do the same for us, and protecting and coddling the bodies and the egos of those who routinely disparage us, we shoot ourselves in the foot. …


You’re not fooling anyone…except maybe yourselves.

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Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash

Intro

Before I get into my piece, I’d like to make a disclaimer. It’s no secret that certain people tend to get defensive with the presence of these conversations and when that happens they often find ways to delegitimize and dismiss any and all concerns that the conversation discusses. Some of you may be wondering what gives me the right to discuss the inner workings of masculinity as a woman? After all, I just recently published an article discussing how men have no place in women’s dialogue. Both of those comments are justified so allow me to answer them. Although you’d like to tell women to mind their own womanly business, the fact that we live in a male-dominated society that constantly seeks to grant more exposure to men and the male psyche makes that demand nearly impossible to fulfill. Not only do women live under the male gaze but in order to successfully navigate this society, the male gaze is something we are forced to understand since masculinity is something that is constantly imposed on us. That is not the same for men in the way it is for women. Men don’t need to understand women to navigate society so many of them don’t. Therefore when a woman discusses the inner workings of men, the points she makes come from living in a society where knowledge about how men move, work, and function is a necessity. But when a man discusses the inner workings of women, the points he makes come from living in a society where the perspectives of women are dismissed and ignored. …


What I learned about life and adulthood.

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Photo by Honey Yanibel Minaya Cruz on Unsplash

I’ll admit I entered my college career a bit cocky. Proud of finishing off my high school career with a 4.0 GPA and graduating with highest honors, I waltzed into university ignorant to the realities of college life. I, like many others, believed college to be identical to high school or if not identical, very similar.

Was I in for a rude awakening.

As I stand on the other side with a 3.0 GPA I now realize that I could never be more wrong. But despite the blunders that I made during my first semester, there were a lot of lessons learned about myself. …


Just because you have a black mother doesn’t mean you understand her womanhood.

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Photo by Marie-Michèle Bouchard on Unsplash

Dear Reader, as you begin this article I’m going to warn that I do not come in peace. I am not interested in being nice and respectable because the world as of late has treated black women with nothing but absolute savagery. This is the rant of a black woman who is rightfully angry, fed up, and tired. You’ve been warned.

During the past few days, I have become glued to my phone as I have watched black women once again be dragged through the mud on social media. For those of you who don’t know, the latest news originates from the pits of Youtube where a Youtuber who markets himself as a dating coach went viral for publicly humiliating a black woman when he told her that due to her status as an average looking single mother and her inability to submit to a six-figure high-value man she will die alone. Not only have I watched many black men endorse this man’s message, but I’ve always watched black women be complicit in the degradation of their own image and help to deliver this man thousands of more subscribers and free publicity. Now I’ve known for a long time about black men and their violent and sickening misogynoir towards black women but there are no words to describe how frustrated and angry I am as I write this (I’m literally shaking with fury). Now I won’t link the video in this piece, nor will I mention his name because I don’t believe that his platform is conducive to promoting healthy and happy black women and it doesn’t deserve any more fame or publicity. But what I do have to say is that as a black woman I am tired. I am tired of watching men who look like me pimp out my image for clicks, views, and money. I am tired of watching grown men blame women who look like me for their own actions. I am tired of the misogyny and I am tired of the racism. …


So there’s no need to tell us to act like it

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Photo by Mike Von on Unsplash

The presumed lack of black women’s femininity often finds itself the subject of interrogation, mockery, and invalidation and this perception has invited many people, a lot being black men, to write Twitter dissertations and spend hours recording and editing videos explaining to black women how to be women. These men tell us to lose the attitude and the weight. They compare us to women who are often white/nonblack (funny how that happens) and to strive to embody their expression of femininity. This same thing happened earlier this year when Jeannie Mai made public her plans to submit to her fiance Jeezy once married. In a time span of five minutes Mai, like many other non-black women, was set on a pedestal by black men as a template for black women to follow. Once again Black women found themselves on the bad side of Black Twitter as we were demanded to submit and be feminine. …


Any other Tired Black Women are welcome to follow me out the door.

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Photo by Hian Oliveira on Unsplash

Dear Reader,

On a scale from one to ten I would rate my emotional intelligence at a zero. Really. I’m absolutely terrible at reading rooms, reading faces, reading body language, everything that you would need to navigate a social situation. It’s actually very sad and very embarrassing. But although I’m bad at reading rooms, the room that I cannot read for the life of me is my own.

When I really try to be socially competent I find that other people’s rooms have colors, shapes, and dimensions. Some are 2D while others are 3D. Some have long expansive corridors while others have small nooks and crannies. Some are defined by bold reds and yellows and others are defined by mellow pastels like lavender or baby blue. When I try to be socially competent I find that other people’s rooms have character and personality. But when I look at my room, I see a white box that sometimes shifts to black. This shift between the two correlates with a shift in emotional state of mind. One minute I have nothing to say then the next minute there are not enough words to fit into one rant. One minute I’m numb then the next minute I’m flooded. But instead of journaling or doing some emotionally explorative work, my days are spent working to preserve my mental sanity as if the same as my emotional one. …


Racism and misogyny are often times our first lesson

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Photo by Glodi Miessi on Unsplash

For many people, elementary school was one of the best times of their lives. They reflect back on these formative years fondly as they reminisce on friends made and friends lost, teachers they loved and teachers they didn’t, fun activities, games and most importantly: nap time. For these people, elementary school taught them the social skills that allowed them to reign supreme on top of the social hierarchy while also teaching them how to read, write and count. It validated them and who they were.

If only I could say the same.

Don’t get me wrong, there are certain moments about my childhood that I look upon quite fondly as well. There are times when I find myself thinking about how nice it would be to return to that point in my life where my responsibilities-and my workload- were smaller. But those thoughts are always halted when I remember how school did a better job of teaching me that my blackness was inferior than it did teaching me to read and write. …


Here we go again I guess…

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Photo by Jessica Felicio on Unsplash

Intro

I debated for a while about whether to write a second part of my first story. A part of me felt as though it wasn’t necessary to expand upon what I had said in my previous article. But when the comments started pouring in and I watched my piece be highlighted to oblivion I saw that it resonated with people. More specifically black women. Being able to articulate the misogynoir behind the black women’s placement on the desirability totem pole I think granted a semblance of comfort and validation that a lot of black women had been longing for. Knowing that my writing is helping to validate others and help people come to understand the world around them is amazing. In fact, it’s the reason I write in the first place. So when I came across a Tik Tok of a young black girl responding quite humorously to what sounded like a black man refusing to date black girls because “they’re the most ratchet” I decided that there was more to be said. So I’m back with a second piece breaking down the anti blackness and misogynoir behind some of the most common reasons why black women are deemed off limits. …


And the strength that allows us to tolerate it

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Photo by Humphrey Muleba on Unsplash

I remember thinking to myself at nine years old how much more valuable I would be if I was emotionally and psychologically wounded. I imagined myself as the heroine in my own story who would sustain the cuts, bruises, and sores by walking through the forest that we call life, dress those wounds, heal from them and emerge from the forest victorious. These scars would be my medallions that I would wear proudly as I marched about the world and I would be known as the girl who triumphed. This girl was not only who I imagined myself to be, but who I saw myself as, and with the environment that existed during that time, becoming a bruised heroine was something I easily manifested. There were always plenty of opportunities to be cut and impaled by sharp thorns and thistles at home and to be scraped and burned outside of it. This point during my life was one in which I was forced to navigate a terrain that was treacherous. But the things that I was forced to do to survive it was arguably worse than the injuries I sustained. Still, nine year old me didn’t know this. Nine year old me didn’t realize that getting into survival mode was easy, but getting out was a whole other adventure altogether. Nine year old me thought suffering was the prerequisite to happiness. …

About

Bih

“Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender.” I come with truth because I care more about the world than I should.

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