Today is one of those days, where the thoughts that run through my mind are not for me to keep to myself. They are thoughts of a journey and coming to terms with my silence and my rage. Realizing that I have a right to my feelings, my opinions, my truth, my existence and who I have become. Sometimes silence is better than words, at least this is how I am when I don't have anything kind to say. I don't like to bicker and argue and I'm the first one to walk away. For me, it is a waste of time. I believe in honesty, and when I can't really speak my mind, I'm silent. But this situation that has taken place in my life has left me breathless, and silence and peace are not getting me anywhere.
I am a Womanist, I realized this in college and I embraced it. I can be called a Feminist, as well. I believe they are sisters. I am a woman who appreciates being a woman. I know that I am not physically stronger than a man, nor do I want to be. I love being a woman, I love my freedom, my free thinking and my openness with humanity. Joy is comfortable to me, it has always been there to comfort the harshness that we all feel in the world. I don't particularly even speak about my ideas when it concerns being a Womanist or a Feminist because it's a way of living. It picked me. The idea that having the attributes of dreaming, goal setting, educating and growing is only for men is unsettling to me. When I do speak about being an advocate for women, I have always wanted it to be clear that being proud of being a woman is not about being anti men. Absolutely not. But as I continue, I'd like to make some points that will lead any one who reads this, especially men, to just maybe entertain a different thought.
When I think in terms of men and violence, and violence can also come from women, please understand that I am not that closed minded. But what I want to talk about is the violence that I have recently experienced from men, and there are some women who, sad to say, help men to commit violence on other women. This is one of the most horrendous subjects that I have had to really examine in a long time. I'm beating around the bush in a way, because how does one explain that they have been completely isolated and shut out of participating in life? How do you explain that misogyny is still prevalent in our society, and that there are men who hate women? They will date you, have sex with you, pretend to love you and be seen with you for image, but deep inside in a dark space, they resent you. This is a fact that I have always known, but I didn't understand or have the knowledge that our elder women have. I had no idea that I had become the target of the boys club.
Since September 2013, I've had the opportunity to reflect, and I see now that their presence was always there. Someone's need to control, dominate, use or destroy if there was nothing of me for them. This is a sad lesson that I have encountered, a harsh one. I don't have the necessities that a woman of my age should have because I was strategically manipulated and methodically set up. Anyone who is close to me knows that I love my babies, my cats. They were taken from me, I don't have any clothes, my life is scattered to and fro and all because I own, am accountable, and a driven participant in this thing we call life. I haven't done anything to these men. I have a right to call the police if I'm being stalked, I have a right to take care of myself and I don't have to be with someone that doesn't want to be with me. The quest to be happy isn't a crime, to strive for a peaceful existence damn sure isn't a crime and to be willing to work for it is all that should matter.
A man who I once dated used to say to me, success is the best revenge. I thought, okay, that makes sense. But what I didn't know was that someone was eyeing me and spying on my every move because I write books and I am a woman. I'm not married, I don't have any children, I take care of myself and I make the choices and decisions in my life. I became a target. My privacy has been violated and my human rights, which are rights that we all have as human beings, or so I would think. I have always worked alone, with the exception of my mom who sells my books to her friends. She named Changing Wind Publications in 1999, and told me she basically named her grandchild, because my books are my creation. The feeling of someone invading my privacy has fallen hand in hand with the way that I detest violence. This person, these men, who have created significant turmoil in my life continue to pick and pry and probably are having a grand ole time laughing while they are literally breaking federal laws.
My life is being played with just because I am a woman, and I choose to live my life with freedom, so they took mine. I have always understood the concept of slavery, but now, I often sit and envision what it must have felt like being a slave, full of ideas and dreams and no way to participate because of the color of your skin in out of your control. Entrapment, control and domination on this level is somewhat of a sickness. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am a bit of a crisis management genius, I am aware of my flaws, we all have them. But more than anything, I am willing to address any problem. But when this whole ordeal began to happen in my life, it was confusing because so much was out of my control and happening at one time.
I'm somewhat of an introvert, the writer in me loves solace and I'm comfortable with being alone. Sometimes, I wonder if that made me an easy victim. My novel Shades of Red was printed in March 2013, and whoever these men are, who keep following me and creating strife around me are aiming to make sure that I don't experience Creator success with my Creator given talents. They have tried to take money from me, hem me up in situations that I do not choose to be in and stolen from me. A hostile take over of something that the Creator gave to me. The aim is to break you down, leave you homeless and destitute so that you become a slave to them. No job, what are you going to do for money? Work, I say, but what if you're blocked from getting a job.
The interesting thing about where I am right now, it is so evident that through all of my hard work over the past 26 years, and I've been working since I was 12 or 13, is that I realize good karma and the evidence of I am exactly who I wanted to become 26 years ago. In spite of not having a job, because I'm a writer and writers usually work day jobs, so I prefer an honest living and I know that I am equipped to contribute in many ways. I believe in the right to participate, even when small minded people are jealous of the talents of others, what writers might earn down the line is of no consequence. If we hit the big pay dirt, we usually have been through so much that we probably should get two million instead of one.
Again, realizing and coming to terms with my value has me cry, it has made me question and examine Alicia, the woman Alicia and the writer Alicia. It wasn't that I didn't value myself so much as, I forgot about the men who hate women like me. Men who trail women and discredit them every where to anyone who will listen. Men that will say your were things that you never were. I am a Womanist because what is there more delicate than a woman? Too me, nothing. If I don't stand up for delicate me, who will? I refuse to become their whore, slave or any other title that I worked hard to not become. Being kind and understanding and all of those delicate woman attributes that I have got me into this mess. But, being a Womanist is going to get me out. I have to give all of that delicate good stuff to me, not. Only me.
I have to pull out that nurturer that would bathe babies that weren't hers; that caregiver that cares for the sick; that cook that pulls meals together out of scraps; that wake up in the middle of the night because of an emergency and run out in a housecoat and rollers to help somebody; that maid that scrubbed floors because it was an honest living; and that tiger who will shred you about her cubs. I earned every chance I have ever been given, I paid dues and my account is empty, but it's going to be alright. I was equipped to keep my life because, in truth, I have always had to protect me anyway. The mean acts of hate that have attacked me over the past few years have been hurtful, distasteful and even devastating at times. I suppose this is another due that I am paying for my freedom, I am who I am. I am a Womanist, my legacy without mentioning color is powerful. I am so proud of me, and I will not become any mans whore for survival. I believe, delayed but I don't think that the Creator will deny me forever. I have one thing left--Faith.
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