I shared the last couple weeks have been a lot, and they have been. On the other end of it though I am calmer and focused on the tasks at hand.

I’ve had to rethink some things in the past few months, how I navigate new relationships. I thought that I did everything ‘right’ last time and apparently I did not so I wanted to noodle on things, own my mistakes and create a plan for ‘next time’. The Universe chuckled at me like she often does.

I was speaking to one of my oldest friends last week and she asked me: what if you just removed the items? I explained why I was unwilling to do that, and in her fashion she shrugged and the conversation pivoted. After the conversation though I got to thinking.

I went back, waaay back and reviewed our early conversations. It was there for me to see it, had I not been chasing the idea of fitting into that role and mode they say I should inhibit. They being Western society in this moment.

I had to stop for a moment and understand, it was my quest to achieve that which I usually ignore that beganI all of this. Yeah, less that thrilled with that admission. I walk through this life being who I am and the softest way to describe that is different. All of the things I’ve learned and lessons I’ve taught and I still lost 12 months because the interior of me still sought that which wasn’t made for me.

Now, does that relieve others of their actions? No, What is does is remind me, that I have to own my own shit and in this case my shit is patriarchy.

I never claimed to be perfect guys.

I can blame it on a lot of things, but that is wasted key strokes and less than what it will take to make alterations. Alterations are required though.

I’ve had a bunch of conversations over the years about the feminine role and what it means to be a woman. I’ve had conversations about what being a fat Queer Black woman looks like in this nation which goes out of its way to reject and project upon those who look like me.

I think I even touched on it some when speaking of the desire of the Black man to be in proximity to power in country which has denied them masculinity as colonizers define it since middle passage.

When I thought I had ‘IT’ I raced to be one of the masses. To be run of the mill because for the mill there I ran to paraphrase KRS-One.

In the days after that night I’d revisit our conversations, trying to make sense of the senseless and what was there in black and white was the answer to the question I did not want to ask. I did not want to ask because it would obliterate the image and then what?

3 billion Nicoles was the joke, and one which was never laughed at despite the absurdity of it. There might not be 3 billion of me, but there is 53%.

The women I’ve admired all have something in common – something I thought I shared. I actually do, even if I lost sight of it in the fall of 2019. I won’t lose it again. I can’t as I watch Florida turn into Gilead in real time. We’d argue about who the ‘better’ half of the species was, and in some ways it was my refusal to concede I was less than which enabled last May. I was sent YouTube videos of con men blaming Black women. I was sent clips of reality shows where women were shown to be ‘useless’. The debate would rear its head on occasion and each time I would make the point and say – you don’t have to worry about that I know my place.

I did and I am standing it it now.

I am sure if I go back through all of the entries here I would find the exact words but I don’t have that type of time others seem to have.

I convinced myself that my power was admired! Well I was also told that but in hindsight it was self serving at best. I walked into this thinking what I am creating could she shared and enjoyed, while ignoring the red flags and warnings like B&K. By the time B&K happened I was so ‘all in’ I’d fallen into the Nicole habit of excusing it to keep home happy.

I sent a photo once, to “see” if I warranted the same concern and protection and it resulted in the police showing up at my front door. Vallejo PD who’ve never met a Black person they could not shoot 22 times. There was my answer, that who I am is the challenge to the status quo and clutch your pearls we do not ever disturb the status quo.

Fuck the 2 prior years of commiserating over the state of Blackness. Fuck words like this:

None of that mattered

Just like this didn’t matter:

I swallowed my feelings about that for the happy home and never once allowed myself to admit there was no happy home where this was tolerated.

If I’ve learned nothing else from this experience? Never again,

This will never happen again. I may not go full Waffles and become Mistress Nicole, but for damn sure upholding the toxicity of patriarchy is a wrap.

The First Wives of Florida once thought it was to their advantage. How’s that working out these days?

No more Affirmative Action, which disproportionately advances White women, no more abortions, no more immigrants to do the work they don’t want to do.

It’s getting super real super quickly, and Florida is the Beta test for the nation.

What is not the beta test for the nation is how I choose to navigate my intimate relationship.

What is also true is that I’ve called Black men to the carpet for chasing an ideal not accessible to them, and I fell into the same trap. No, not M/s but the desire or demand to be coveted. It’s not going to be a thing for a woman like me, so instead of chasing that, I am going to stand still and embrace value.

Ha at that word but it is the right one for the moment.

That person cannot value a woman like me, but others do. I’ve had the fortune of experiencing it and I won’t ever take it for granted again.

It is time to Fight the Power.