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An open letter to my ladies…

All respect first off given to you, even though you don’t always deserve it.

Correction. “Even though most don’t always deserve it.”

Correction. “Even though some don’t always deserve it, probably because they don’t know how to give it, and were probably never given it.”

I understand that we all have different goals. That some of us are out for love, others for money, others just for the thrill. But please, let’s look out for each other. Not just physically, though that is an important aspect of life. I’m talking more spiritually, as in the spiritual nature of womanhood. It’s being disrespected, ladies. It’s hurting and it’s dying. It’s lost, wandering, hurt and quivering, covered in dirt and spit, blood, tears, a sperm, fingerprints and sneaker imprints. Please, open your eyes to what we are doing to ourselves.

I know, I know. Who am I to talk? I know that I’m not the perfect model of femininity by any means. I understand that I have not always done the right thing by other girls, but I am making a turn for the better. At least it’s a start.

All I can do is keep it real though. There are a few things that I’ve seen recently that are opening my eyes to the true trifling nature of my gender. We need to get it together. All this dramatic outburst-ing. All this demanding of time. All of this holding out and punishing our men. All this manipulating and hating. It needs to stop.

To you, to the unloved-by-your-father-and-now-overdoing-it-to-get-men-to-love-you chick: I see you baby. I feel you. But no matter how many dudes you kiss, how many guys tell you that they love you, it’s not going to replace that hole in your heart. You need to fix you. A penis cannot fix you.

To you, the unloved-by-the-world-low-self-esteem-overcompensating-with-sex girl: Ok. Look. You don’t love you, so you don’t think that you deserve to be loved. But then you get mad when you’re treated like a side jawn? Sweetheart, I love you. And you need therapy.

And you, sex-pot-sweetheart-waiting-to-be-rescued-from-life: I feel you. We all want a hero. But the dude with the condom in his $350 wallet does not normally wear a cape, especially if you let him hit in the first week.

To you, normal-chick-just-trying-to-make-it-and-slowly-getting-frustrated-with-trifling-men: It’s rough, huh? I know. But you know what? He does exist. He might not be the chiseled Greek Adonis that you dream about, but he’s got the biggest heart. Just keep being you. And stay out of trouble.

One more: Ms.-“men-aint-shyt”: See. That’s why you’re single. You gotta give love to get it, and no one wants to date a diva, no matter how much Beyonce sings about it.

There are so many more that I’m missing: The chicks hiding their whoredom behind religion. The ladies desperate to constantly be in style. The women too full of hate to care, or to see anyone else care. The females who live their lives to ruin others. The girls who just generally love their boyfriends and want it to work. The hoes who really do dream of being housewives. The ladies who were hurt, and just can’t get through the pain to the purpose of life. The women too busy to date.

The ones who just don’t get it, and the successful few who do.

I’m not even trying to call you out. All that I’m saying is that, hey, did you see the Super Bowl commercials? Do you listen to today’s music? Do you see what they really think of us?

This is partially our faults. We are definitely to blame. And we need to fix it. But before we can do that, we need to work on ourselves. Not that any of this is new information. We all know that we’re f-ing up. Just figured that if one more lady person voiced their frustration, it may add to the ever-growing cry.

(photo courtesy of PhOtOnQuAnTiQuE)



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March 2010
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