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Family Matters

Posted on March 15, 2013 3:48 am by Malikka Rogers 1 Comment
Harriet, Carl, and the kids had it so good. Even Urkel didn’t have it too bad. Unfortunately, a lot of the time, dealing with family isn’t anything like the conflict that can be solved within the confines of a thirty minute sitcom. Personality clashes and flaws, old hurts, jealousy, envy, and a bevy of other barriers often prevent families from functioning well and the strain can be visible. Countless times, I’ve heard the “my family gets on my nerves” disclaimer that usually starts with, “Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, BUT…” and admittedly, I’ve been guilty of using it myself. Something about the concept of family frequently makes it difficult for folks to cope.

Human relationships are not neat. What people deal with on a daily basis can rarely, if ever, be acknowledged, discussed, strategized, and fixed within a 30 minute span of time. Clashing personalities and perspectives make family relationships an ongoing challenge. Over time, I have learned a few things about family and the role shared DNA plays in my life:
- You can’t choose your bloodline, but you can choose your family.
After going through some sort of family drama, I’ve often seen people I know look dejected and disgusted as they utter the “My Family Is Absolutely Crazy” mantra; “Well, you can’t choose your family.” After getting a little life under my belt, I can say this isn’t quite true. Though one cannot choose who he or she is connected to through DNA, one can absolutely choose his or her family.

I believe family is comprised of who I love and who loves me back in the best possible way. Sometimes, those people are related to me, sometimes they aren’t. Either way, my family is partly my own creation of those who mean the most to me. I really think that’s exactly the way it should be.
- Blood doesn’t equal love.
Sometimes, DNA alone just isn’t enough to create connection. Try as one might, she can’t always build a positive relationship with her relations. I’ve seen many people experience a guilt trip as a result of not liking or getting along with a relative. In my family, there have been a few folks with whom a personal connection just doesn’t seem possible. The cause is sometimes as minor as geography and as major as past deception. Regardless of the cause of the division, guilt has no place in the equation. We love who we choose and those people aren’t always relatives.
- Sometimes, the bare minimum is all one has and it is good enough.
Even when a close relationship isn’t possible, I believe there are times familial obligations trump the disconnect. Some circumstances are so dire, they require stepping out of the “I don’t like you much” box and crossing over into the “Gotta do what I gotta do” box. Caring for sick relatives or helping one in a bad position often causes the box switch. Even though the change is necessary, it doesn’t mean one’s feelings will change. Often, the bare minimum is all one has to give and it has to be good enough.

I know some of what I’ve said sounds harsh and maybe even just mean, but I have found all these things to not only be true, but to be sanity-saving statements.

I am related to some people I would never befriend by choice. With some of them, the issue is just personality and life path differences and with others, the problem stems from arguments, insults, backstabbing, and any other kind of terrible thing people do to one another all while holding up the family flag. All these examples keep us from having a close relationship, but that is perfectly ok. If any of them really need me, I’m there and I’d like to think the same would apply to me.

People often say, “You can’t choose your family.” I completely disagree. Though shared DNA is unavoidable, the bloodline connection doesn’t make people family. Sometimes, the people who have caused the most pain are the ones most closely related. To me, family is who one decides is close, supportive, true, and loving. That exceeds the confines placed by any sort of social construct. I think of my real family as those who have been with me through my triumphs, trials, and failures. Sometimes those people are blood, and sometimes they aren’t. Choose wisely.
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What I Know

Posted on December 31, 2012 4:36 pm by Malikka Rogers Comment

It is New Year’s Eve and I’m not choosing which party to attend, getting dressed for the party I chose, or standing at that particular party, shivering from the cold in a tiny dress with my feet aching. Instead, I’m on my couch in my most comfortable pajamas enjoying a glass of wine and watching old shows on my DVR. It isn’t exciting, but it’s exactly what I need to be doing in this moment.

2012 was a year filled with ups and downs. I made some great personal gains, accomplished some long term goals, and suffered a few setbacks. Overall, I persevered and I feel blessed to be here. So, all typical ”I’m so glad I almost made it” talk aside, I want to talk about some things I saw, learned, and rediscovered in 2012.

Friendship is paramount

Throughout the year, I was constantly wowed by the kindness, thoughtfulness, and unwarranted support of my friends. From pep talks to prayer to conversation over a couple drinks, the ones I love truly had my back and proved themselves to be everything I could ever expect from friends. I made a couple new connections and solidified some of the old ones. I look around at others and consider myself blessed because of the relationships with which I’ve been blessed.

Nobody loves you like your mom

Like my friends, my mom has been solid. She reminds me how important our parents are regardless of how old we are. They never stop raising us and their wisdom never ceases to be pertinent. No matter the problem, she listens and even if she can’t help fix it, she at least takes the time to hear me. It doesn’t get better than that.

Pajamas Aren’t Pants

No matter what kind of shoes or jacket one pairs with a pair of pajama bottoms, they remain exactly what they were when they were purchased: PAJAMA BOTTOMS. If I see one more idiot in public with pajamas on coupled with a boot, pump, or sneaker and a jacket, I might finally lose it completely. I do not know what is wrong with people and their understanding of what is appropriate for public, but this pajama thing has got to stop.

There’s a Right and a Wrong Way to Love Somebody

Keith Sweat actually had a point. In 2012, I witnessed the true douchery of those freshly in love. Overposting on Facebook, overtalking in person, ignoring close friends, and doling out unwarranted advice about how to conduct oneself in a relationship or how to get into one. BALLS!!! It’s all so obnoxious. I watched and learned how to value my privacy, how to cherish those secret parts of my life, and how to admire the good parts of love after pulling back the annoying curtain.

Change Isn’t Just Good, It’s Everything

This year I realized if I’m not evolving, I’m not really living. Life is often about a series of changes born from challenges. One can either welcome the challenge or recoil from it, but the latter never yields a good result. Working through problems is the best way to become the best person. My 2012 challenges taught me who I am, where I’m strong, and where I’m weak. I can’t ask for more valuable lessons even though I didn’t like any of the challenges.

Shortcuts Don’t Always Get You There Quicker

There isn’t always a quick and easy way to get the results I want. Cutting corners and spending time looking for an easier way to get from A to B sometimes makes more work than just taking the obvious road. I’ve tried to beat the system many times and found the more difficult path is often the most rewarding one. Sometimes, one just has to do the work. Really, it’s more like MOST of the time. if it’s too easy, too costly, or involves to many what-if variables, it probably isn’t going to go well.

In 2012, I cried a few times, triumphed a few times, laughed a whole lot, and grew closer to who and what matters most. Sometimes, life was good and other times, it was a mess, but the twelve months in 2012 served to make me more of who I was and sure of who I want to be. Cheers to the new year.

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Hi There, Hair There

Posted on December 21, 2012 7:01 am by Malikka Rogers 6 Comments

The adoring smile, the slight head nod, and the respectfully spoken greeting, “How you doin’, sista?” have become part of my reality. Though I would like to attribute it to an awakening among black folks leading them to be kinder to one another, I really know it’s about my hair.

I have been “natural” for over seven years. For the past four and a half of that, I have been locking. From the earliest part of my natural hair journey, I have experienced some of the most interesting, odd, and sometimes outright ridiculous reactions. From comparisons to celebrity women with natural hair (even though I don’t look like ANY of them) to the “Can I touch its” and the “Are you really going to stop straightening its”, I think I have heard it all. For some reason, I’m either insulted or revered based on my hair choice alone. My interactions with others since I’ve been wearing my hair in its natural state have lead me to take a little time to dispel many of the myths that accompany the natural hair stigma.

Yes, I Still Wash My Hair

One of the more annoying responses I get about my hair is the combination frown and point. With a twisted up mouth and an accusing finger, people ask me if I still wash my hair. I would feel a lot better if I knew they were kidding, but the looks on their faces and their eagerness to pump me on the mysteries of natural hair assure me their ignorance is very real. In all my years of living (never mind how many years it’s been), I have NEVER come across any hair that didn’t need washing. Of course, I’ve come across many people who pretend their hair isn’t dirty and wreaking of all things stinky, but that doesn’t negate the fact all hair needs washing. My hair is no exception and I wash it regularly, locs and all. Anything less would be uncivilized.

If you have ever asked a person with natural hair if he/she still washes it, consider giving yourself an open-handed slap across the cheek, picking up a hair magazine or two, and spending some time online learning a little more about natural hair. Natural doesn’t equal nasty.

I Only Burn Incense Because it Smells Good

For some reason, some people see my hair and assume I get up before sunrise each day, light some incense, then meditate, pray, write poems, do yoga, and eat something that doesn’t have a face. Though I do love incense and prayer, I don’t do any of those things because my hair is kinky. I burn incense because it makes my house smell good. I try to eat well because I want to look hot in my clothes. I love just about anything with real PIG bacon on it, and I work out for pretty much the same reason I try to eat well. I don’t have a spiritual awakening whenever I put fire to wick. I just want to light a candle because it’s pretty. Upon knocking on my door, you will not find me sitting cross-legged with my palms facing upward and my eyes closed. Aside from the trouble I would have trying to get up once my legs have fallen asleep, I would inevitably start thinking about bacon during the meditation process. This hair doesn’t come with special abilities. Any I have were present pre-locs.

I Am Not a Singer

People always look at my hair and ask me if I can sing. Apparently, there is a large population of people who don’t know this, but natural hair doesn’t make one artsy. I like to put pen to paper and engage in laptop lovefests, but I’m not a musician. I don’t sit around with the aforementioned candles and incense writing songs and strumming my acoustic guitar. Sure, I put in several years of piano lessons and spent some time in the church choir, but I am nobody’s aspiring songstress and it is not a requirement for natural hair. I know an E from a B, but I learned that when I had pigtails and the barrettes with the cat playing the fiddle. This hair doesn’t make me a singer anymore than a toe ring makes me a fortune telling hippy.

I would quote India Arie, but that would be a bit trite. However, I will say the woman had a point. I am pragmatic, spiritual, and creative in many ways. However, I’m also in love with makeup, fashion, super short dresses, and stilettos. Those preferences may not fit into the neatly wrapped stereotype of a woman with natural hair, but I’m really too big to fit into something gift wrapped anyway.

This entry was posted in Health and Well Being, Social Commentary. Bookmark the permalink.
I’m So Happy For You!!! Now, Shut Up.

Posted on November 20, 2012 4:24 am by Malikka Rogers 5 Comments
It usually starts out the same way; giggling, blushing, random fits of smiling, and a bevy of friends granting well wishes. Unfortunately, it’s usually followed by gushing, incessant bragging, monopolizing conversations, and an instantaneous knowledge of all things relationships. Yes, I’m talking about what it’s like when a friend is in a new relationship.

I’m sure most people have experienced it at one point or another. A friend comes across the love she has been hoping for, friends are thrilled for her, then, the other shoe drops and she becomes too obnoxious to bear. When she has time to hang out, she hogs up all the time talking about “him”, how great he is, how she never thought she would find anyone like him, how happy he has made her, and the very best one; she knows how much her friends want relationships and how it will happen for them one day just like it happened for her (GAG).

Logic implies good friends should be able to speak earnestly to one another, even if it isn’t pretty. Unfortunately, that isn’t really an option with “new relationship friend”. The moment one ventures into the conversation, the response is either the least damaging, but most patronizing speech about how she understands how her chatter may feel overwhelming, but there is no reason to feel left out. She then pats your knee and reminds you she will always be your friend despite her new found love. After all, she understands because she was once alone just like you (feel free to vomit here).

If it isn’t the patronizing response for pointing out a newly “boo’d up” friend’s annoying behavior, jealousy is cited as the real problem. After all, there is nothing irritating, obnoxious, or infuriating about going on ad nauseam about one’s new beau, so the only reasonable explanation must be jealousy, right? Not only is this insulting and presumptuous, but the majority of the time, it’s far from true and serves as nothing more than a way to excuse behavior that borders on, and often teeters into, “douchedom”.

After the patronizing insults, there is usually some unsolicited relationship advice to round out the irritation. She will tell her friends “the right one comes along when you stop looking”, “it will happen for you one day if you’re just patient”, and “you’re such an amazing person, it won’t be long before you’re happy like me”. All of these comments will make it difficult to avoid resorting to physical violence and insults. It no longer matters she didn’t know ONE solid thing about relationships beforehand or couldn’t even get through a first date without blowing it because what she learned in the all of ten minutes her relationship has been official will undoubtedly be enough to help all her poor single friends find their true loves. It’s enough to drive anyone to drink – or start slapping the perpetrator.

SO, in the best interest of any friend, coworker, and family member who is or has been subjected to such nonsense, I want to clear the air:
- Though people who care are definitely happy for you, none of us are jealous. We just want you to shut up because you are hogging up the words we need to make our own conversations.
- Just because some of us are single, it doesn’t mean we are interested in, desperate for, or suicidal over the lack of a relationship. Single generally means unattached, nothing more, and nothing less. This means we don’t need your special “reassurances” about how it will happen for us too one day. We didn’t even ask you in the first place.
- You don’t know a stitch more about relationships now than you did before you got into a relationship. You couldn’t figure out how to maintain a man’s interest past the phone number exchange, make a relationship last beyond the first coffee date, or even catch the attention of a fully employed man before the relationship, so chances are, you just lucked up on a good one who understands your crazy and maybe has a little crazy of his own. Get over yourself.
Look, I love love. As a matter of fact, I’m even happy for people I don’t particularly like when they come across a little piece of love for themselves. Connecting with someone, enjoying his/her company, and perhaps making some serious future plans are all wonderful experiences to me. However, dragging everyone else along for a ride on the obnoxious train is a trip one’s friends can do without. Enjoy your relationship, revel in the newness, and bask in the beauty, but figure out a way to keep the endless chatter to a level that keeps friends from wanting to choke you. It’s the least you can do for love.
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If Worse Comes to Even Worse

Posted on October 11, 2012 3:19 am by Malikka Rogers 12 Comments

Sometimes, life drama seems to take over leaving me feeling busted and disgusted. The car accident that left my car totaled, the two weeks and counting without my own transportation while I wait on an inept claims adjuster to send me a check, and the early morning walk in the cold and dark to the bus stop because of the aforementioned are just recent examples of how non-self-inflicted drama has seeped into my existence leaving me feeling all sorts of ways about it. For me, one of the best ways to feel better about the kind of circumstances that run me over and provide me with a new set of unexpected circumstances is to rant about them. I fuss, cuss, scream, and write just to make sure friends and the universe hear me right before I start to think of a plan to change my new and unfortunate circumstances. And though I’ve found this course of action to be almost fool proof, there are always a few people who ruin my ranting sessions with that band-aid statement steeped in guilt; “It could always be worse.”

Now, I know no matter what I’m experiencing, in theory, there is some schmuck somewhere getting what I’m getting times infinity. And yes, I know complaining about not having shoes can be relative when coming across the man with no feet, but damnit, there are times when complaining is the very therapy one needs before she can see the silver lining, solution, or greatness in her life. There are times when the only way for the healing to begin is to scream out loud about the issue. Something about keeping it bottled in, pretending I’m not upset, and holding myself while rocking back and forth and mumbling, “It could be worse” makes it ten times worse.

My spiritual upbringing, in addition to the many people around me who firmly cling to the half-full glass of whatever life offers, have taught me to look at the bright side, consider how my situation could be exponentially worse, immediately seek out some part of the situation for which I am grateful, and skulk off into the darkness pretending I’m not bothered by not having shoes because, after all, so and so doesn’t have feet. And though I believe embracing gratitude and finding things for which to be grateful in one’s everyday life is imperative, I also believe we are all better when we have the opportunity to release the never quenched complaint monster inside of all of us.

Maybe it seems silly and counterproductive to some, but I like and need to complain about my boss, my coworkers, my bills, and my newly deceased car. I more than realize I’m not the only one experiencing such temporary setbacks, but sometimes what the doctor ordered is a steady stream of curse words mixed with a touch of whining to take off the edge. The last thing I want to hear right in the moment is, “It could always be worse.” Yes, I know it could always be worse, but does that really matter when what is happening to me in that moment is so tangible? Believe me, when my car was hit by another car, I did NOT immediately think, “It could be worse.” I thought of the damage, inconvenience, potential injuries, and the possibility the guy who hit me could be uninsured. Somewhere mixed around in there, I thought about how glad I was to still be alive, but I absolutely DID NOT think about how much worse it could be. Know why I didn’t think that? Because I didn’t care! What I cared about in that moment, and during this time of countless inconveniences that has followed, is my loss and the time and energy it would take to get me somewhere close to where I was before the dreaded accident.

Telling a person how her situation could be worse is like trying to make her feel guilty for disliking her present circumstances. Whether bad circumstances be self-inflicted or beyond one’s control, it is a dislike for those circumstances that leads to a course of action to escape them. Without the ranting and raving, one would simply implode from the lack of expression and the guilt carried along with the “it could be worse” theory.

Now, I don’t condone endless wallowing as a way of life. Nobody likes a Debbie Downer always hanging around whining and whimpering and carrying on. However, there are times a giant hissy fit can be just the setup one needs to start on the road to recovery.

At the risk of sounding like a terrible ingrate, I have to admit I often focus on the things and circumstances for which I’m grateful and I really do consider how my life is at least 80% fantastic and only 20% craptastic. But, despite all this, I still firmly believe in an indignant, this-is-some-old-bullsh*t, shaking fists at the sky kind of rant so the healing can begin.

So, yeah, it really could be worse, but who cares? When we hurt – we hurt. And, our ire, pain, resentment, etc…is not ever lessened in the heat of the moment by the thought somewhere else someone is suffering just a tad bit more than we are. In that moment, how one feels is all that matters and the only words one needs to hear are those that validate that anger then encourage one to spring into action. Guilting someone into pretending she isn’t angry is like taking Tic-Tacs for a head cold.

If you’re pissed off, sad, or hurt, feel free to own it. Hell, even take a few moments to roll around in it and linger a few minutes. Just don’t linger too long. Reveling in the drama should be used as one of the best ways to move past it, not as a crutch to keep one stagnate. Maintaining a balance between rightful rants and sad sack Sally can be a challenge, but the rants are well worth it to help one get back to her happy place.

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Damn You, Facebook

Posted on September 13, 2012 4:32 am by Malikka Rogers 1 Comment

The popularity of social networking seems to be at some sort of crazy all-time high. I knew there was something to Facebook when my mother actually started a page and told me she follows my status updates via notifications to her phone. People use Facebook to annoyingly chronicle every single event in their lives, connect with distant friends and loved ones, join groups that focus on their interests, maybe make a love connection, advertise their products and services, and who knows what else. However, despite these benefits, people always seem to find a way to blame the very sites they depend on for the demise of their relationships.

Countless times, I’ve seen status updates about people using Facebook to further their evil causes and ruin the lives of everyone who dares get in their way. Yep, the rhetoric is just as dramatic as my previous sentence. I have read cries of how Facebook causes men and women to cheat, provides the type of temptation that leads folks astray, and is nothing more than a place for homewreckers to wreak their relationship havoc on poor innocent couples just trying to make it. I even had a friend tell me her marriage ended because of Facebook. So, in lieu of all these gripes, I’d like to take a moment to burst a bubble; Facebook DOESN’T ruin relationships, people do.

Since the beginning of time, folks have sabotaged their romantic relationships. Lying, cheating, withholding important information, close-mindedness, overspending, lack of interest in one’s partner, bad communication, etc… have all contributed to the demise of relationships since the very first relationship went wrong (of course, I have no idea who those people were, but I feel safe in assuming neither had a Facebook page). As seems to be common to human nature, there is an ongoing search for an easy scapegoat so people grasp at relationship straws and blame the internet instead of themselves.

To me, the first step to understanding what happened in one’s failed relationship is to consider one’s actions. Even if social networking played a part in a romantic break up, one has to think about who pushed the buttons, who read the words, and whose idea it was to share what, by all intents and purposes, is entirely too much personal information with the cyber world. After all, how can anyone get in my business if I opt to allow it to remain just that – my business? I really only have myself to blame if I share the most intimate parts of my life with a bunch of people who probably don’t care much about me and subsequently lose my relationship.

Aside from personal responsibility for what one shares, it is imperative to consider the relevance of personal choice. If one party decides he/she doesn’t want to be in a relationship, no amount of blame-passing, scapegoating, and internet bashing is going to change an already made up mind. Sure, saying it was Facebook, Twitter, or some other social networking site is an easy explanation, but it really doesn’t do justice to the truth that sometimes one party in the relationship just wants out.

I am a huge fan of keeping some things private. Just as telling everything about one’s life isn’t a smart choice in person, it’s equally, if not more, paramount to apply this theory online. Though it’s nice to think everyone one befriends on Facebook is a true and loyal friend, it simply isn’t true. It also isn’t true we aren’t responsible for what we do. The more we disclose about our personal lives via social networking, the more we lose control of our own lives and who needs that?

So, by all means, people should enjoy social networking and all the wonderful benefits that accompany it. However, people should also accept the need to base their lives in truth and personal accountability. I mean, how much sense does it make to turn and point accusingly like Evil Monkey from Family Guy at a laptop when confronted with a question regarding one’s indiscretions? It makes no sense at all and frankly, it’s kinda lame.

Ultimately, our present state is dependent on the life choices we make. If a relationship tanks, it’s most likely because the parties involved got on the boat with entirely too much luggage. Sometimes that luggage is the need to share every nuance with the virtual world and it is that impulse one needs to quash. It isn’t Facebook, it’s you.

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Ring-A-Ding-Ding

Posted on August 21, 2012 11:56 am by Malikka Rogers 13 Comments

I’ve never been one of those women who has been planning her wedding, down to the color scheme and floral arrangements, since childhood. I didn’t think about who would be in the wedding, what my mom would wear, or where I’d get married. When I did get around to the deed, we went to Reno and moved on (in more ways than one). Now, as a thirty (cough) something divorced woman, I STILL don’t think about such things, but you know what I do think about? My ring.

I don’t need a bunch of hullabaloo over a ceremony. Weddings can be really nice and posh, but for me, if the space is filled with people I like, love, and respect; I’m good. For me, that may only be about 25 people, but I’m ok with that. What I’d mostly want is to start my life with that guy with a ring I really like on my finger.

I recently had a conversation with a male friend who told me I was shallow for not wanting anything less than a carat. While I thought I was low-balling it, he thought I was being terrible. I explained to him for me, it isn’t really about what other people will think. I just feel like after the guests have eaten all the cake, danced to the expensive dj, eaten all three courses of the dinner, and left us with a gift one quarter of the cost it took to accomodate their presence, I’ll be over the wedding itself. The ring, however, is a representation of the relationship I’ll have forever. Well, that AND the fact I think they’re pretty and look great on my finger.

Aside from aesthetics, I also believe it’s best to get the ring I want early on before other priorities prevail. Car and house notes, childcare/tuition for my hypothetical step-children (I definitely won’t be having any), emergency repairs on the aforementioned car or house, etc… Life happens and it usually costs people so I think it best to strike while the diamond iron is hot.

I also figure by the time that guy and I get married, we’ll probably be paying that bill together, and I don’t mind. I don’t think a ring is proof of how much a man loves a woman. People don’t even need a ring for that. I just see it as a pretty thing that represents my marital commitment and I do like pretty things.

It’s kinda unrealistic to walk around with a miniature wedding album in one’s purse for day to day viewing. However, a really great reminder of the time, the day, and the life is often on one’s left hand ring finger. Why not have that reminder be something sizeable and I like?

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Some of My Best Friends Aren’t Women

Posted on July 21, 2012 4:00 pm by Malikka Rogers 10 Comments
“I don’t really have any ‘female’ friends. I just don’t get along with women that well. They’re just sojealous and catty and I really don’t have time for that. I prefer to be friends with men.” If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard this kind of rhetoric, I’d…well, I wouldn’t have much money in general, but I’d have a whole bunch of dimes. This kind of attitude and perspective has always bothered me. I think there is some type of disconnect when one has a problem with members of her own gender. For various reasons, some women refuse to connect with other women in the interest of sisterhood. Most of the time, it seems those reasons are unwarranted, unfounded, and illogical, yet they hold on to their ideology anyway. As a fan of logic, I feel it’s my duty to cut through the crap by dispelling some myths.
- Men Are Better Friends Than Women
Some people are really great at being a friend. They’re empathetic, great listeners, understanding, patient, wise, loyal, and the best part; fun. This is the friend everyone should aspire to be. What many of the misguided women who won’t befriend other women don’t seem to understand is it’s hard to be this friend. It usually takes years of character development and life lessons to become that kind of friend. Some people master it fairly early on, and some people suck at it for life. This applies to men and women and frankly, as a woman, there are some things a male friend is NEVER going to understand. He doesn’t get that sometimes you have “ugly” days, “fat” days, or any other kind of “inadequate” day. He doesn’t understand how much you hate bra shopping and why, and he can never just nod his head understandingly when you mumble something inaudible, but a female friend would. She will let you borrow her cute pants with the secret elastic waistband, assure you how hot your are, no matter how you may be feeling, and take you out to help you feel better. A man, on the other hand, though concerned about your general well-being, will most likely suggest walking it off as he wonders why you’re being so “sensitive” about “nothing”. Some things only another woman understands, and that’s just the truth.
- Women Aren’t Felines
I really hate the word, “catty”. I find it so demeaning to women because it likens us to some of the worst acting animals. Who wants that? Sure, some women are petty and ridiculous, but that certainly doesn’t sum up all women and it’s far from logical to assume it does. Besides, careful thought should allow a woman to conclude if she is always meeting “catty” women, she’s probably covered in catnip. There isn’t ever a way for one to lament her lost friendships without self-reflecting. It often takes all the people involved in a friendship to ruin it. We are all humans made up of attributes and faults, so one can’t expect a flawless friend when she is unable to embody the flawlessness. It also helps to think about the fact we generally attract what we exude.
- They’re Just So Jealous of Me
Let me just go ahead and break out with some truth here; as cute/pretty/hot/sexy, smart, successful, and desirable as you may think you are, there is always a woman who matches you in each area and, in some cases, surpasses you. so the, “I don’t have very many female friends because they’re jealous of me” crap doesn’t really fly. You may very well be cute, but you aren’t nearly as cute as you think, or in many cases, nearly as cute as the men around you have claimed. In my experiences, folks tend to try to deflect accountability by blaming others for their own shortcoming. Saying women aren’t good friends because they are jealous is one of the biggest copouts to me. I mean, who exactly is it you think you are? And, who would want to be friends with a woman who is clearly proclaiming her unmatched beauty and sex appeal? Of course, women who think their beauty keeps them from having friends are rarely introspective enough to figure out any of that because it’s hard to stare in a mirror blowing kisses at oneself while thinking. Someone is probably reading this now and thinking I’m jealous of her. Bless her arrogant heart.

I don’t think developing good relationships with those of the same sex is as elusive as women say.

Most times, people don’t have good friends because they don’t know how to BE a good friend and aren’t willing to extend themselves emotionally to make that connection. People generally get back what they put in when it comes to relationships of any kind with either gender. It’s best to try to be the friend you want to have and wait to attract like minded individuals instead of blaming others for your own faults. Before playing the “catty card” , make every effort to be the friend you want to have.
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Timing

Posted on July 2, 2012 8:08 am by Malikka Rogers 9 Comments

Years ago, I went to visit a friend. The weather was beautiful, a cool breeze was blowing, and I drove to her house with the windows down and the music playing. We had a wonderful visit that involved good food, good drinks, and plenty of giggles. By all accounts, it was a lovely evening. At the end of the night, I got in my car, turned the key, and got NOTHING. I tried to start it multiple times, but to no avail. After I had the car towed home a day or two later, my mechanic told me my timing belt broke. I kept wondering how everything was running great the day before but completely broken down the next day.

No, this post isn’t about cars, but it is about timing. That belt was responsible for controlling the timing of the engine’s valves. Before I get too deep into it- suffice it to say, all automotive hell breaks lose when the timing belt breaks.

Recently, I was dating someone who I thought was pretty cool. It was early in the “relationship”, but we both thought things were going well. We saw each other 2-3 times a week, texted and talked throughout the day, and expressed our growing fondness for one another. Mistakenly, I grew accustomed to his presence. We were cruising along, relationship windows down, lovely music playing, and enjoying the ride, until, one day, our timing belt broke. For various reasons, he told me he had to back away from me to work out some things in his personal life. I was diplomatic and said I understood, but really, I was annoyed and kept wondering how we were running great one day but completely broken down the next.

The situation made me consider how relevant timing is to everything in our lives. Academic endeavors, professional success, friendships, and even romantic relationships, seem to all be based on timing. It doesn’t matter how much one wants something to happen, it never occurs until the perfect maturation period has taken place. Although I know this to be true, it hasn’t stopped me from shaking my fists at the sky countless times and questioning fate.

Sometimes, timing forces relationships and goals into breakdown status. When my belt broke, I called around for repair quotes from shops, contacted several auto parts stores, and most importantly, prepared myself financially to have my car fixed. I think a similar pragmatic approach can be applied to bad timing in relationships. I asked him some questions and asked myself some too. I looked at all the angles that came to mind, then prepared myself for the “getting over it process”.

I had to save some money and wait a few weeks, but I eventually got my car fixed. Starting it up, and pulling out of the driveway felt good. I was sad when it broke down, I missed it while it was away, I came to terms with what I had to do to get it fixed, and I did what I needed to get it right again. The same happened with my heart.

I was sad when I found out time wouldn’t allow the relationship to continue, I missed him when it was over, I came to terms with what I had to do to move past it, and I did what I needed to heal my heart. From my car, I learned that timing controls it all. It had gas, oil, four tires with the right air pressure, and everything else it needed. However, all of that was irrelevant because the timing wasn’t right. It just goes to show sometimes all the right things aren’t enough if one of the most important factors is missing. Whether it’s romance, work, or other endeavors, it’s all about the timing.When timing is off, no amount of work is enough to solve the issue. Sometimes, one simply needs time.

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Red Tails Tales

Posted on January 23, 2012 5:00 am by Malikka Rogers Comment

I let the opening weekend of Red Tails come ago without my attendance and shockingly, I woke uptoday with the same brown skin I had before I went to bed last night. I know, I know – it seems strange that I could actually fail to attend the movie yet still remain black. It wasn’t easy, but somehow I managed. Before anyone gets too angry with me, I must say I only had one reason for avoiding the movie (initially); it looked corny to me. Despite the primarily black cast, the subject matter, and the historical significance of the Tuskegee Airmen to American History, I took one look at the previews and immediately made a note to reconsider it after its arrival on Netflix.

Granted, I know I’m saying one of the most unpopular things a black person could say this week, however, I believe the hype took away from anything that could have possibly been good about the cinematic experience for me. A combination of the hulabaloo, and several other factors, lead to my decision to keep my dollars to myself.

Faux Activism

In various online articles and on social networks like Facebook, countless black folks were posting statements imploring every other black person in the country to attend the movie. It was as if the thought was one could solidify his or her blackness by simply purchasing a movie ticket. Now, I’m all for supporting black films with black dollars (whatever that means) but I can’t bring myself to pay for something that doesn’t appeal to me in some way. I mean, bottom line, ten dollars is ten dollars.

Attending a movie isn’t really about making a statement anyway -at least, it isn’t for me. I know buying tickets in the first weekend helps with overall ratings but buying a ticket to Red Tails, or any other film with a predominately black cast, does not turn anyone into a mini-Malcolm X. It just doesn’t work that way.

The White Guy Told Me To

Though I saw a trailer on television a couple times, I wasn’t interested in seeing the movie and I never heard anyone I know make mention of any sense of urgency to purchase a ticket until George Lucas started hitting the interview circuit. He said some magic words that often catapult black folks into action, “The white folks didn’t want to fund my movie because it’s about a bunch of black people” (<—- my paraphrasing). Upon hearing their cue, black folks suddenly felt the urge to go see a movie they didn’t seem to want to see in the first place just because a white guy said white folks didn’t like it or want to pay for it.

Is that really what it takes for black people to support something? To me, that’s a poor excuse to see a movie or to spend one’s money on anything else, for that matter. If people saw Red Tails simply because it appealed to them on some level, the reasoning seems valid to me. However, seeing it because of one white guy’s claims of financial racism isn’t a valid reason to me. Besides, it seems just as well that George Lucas dug into his own coffers to pay for the film. Through his interview statements and touting of himself as the great white hope that could singlehandedly save black filmmaking, he was able to make his money back and then some from all those kindly black folks who rushed the box office on his behalf. It must be nice to be George.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there is anything wrong with buying tickets and enjoying a few hours watching Red Tails just as I see nothing wrong with watching the 1995 film about the same subject featuring the likes of Laurence Fishburne, reading the numerous books written about these phenomenal men, or watching the many documentaries that exist about them (yes, I know it’s shocking, but this story was told a million times before George Lucas came along). I just believe folks will be best served to use their heads instead of being lead to do something because they were manipulated with words and innuendo. As for me, I’m still opting to pass for now while hoping my Red Tails Netflix experience will be a good one.

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