AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Handicapping our Sons





There are certain things one needs in life in order to grow up emotionally healthy.  Because our culture has this deep seated hatred for Black men and, at the same time, an irrational worship of Black masculinity, we, meaning Black society, raise our little boys in ways that dishonor their proper maturation process.  We set the stage for them to be horrible fathers and husbands in childhood with practices and patterns that are nothing more than diseased remnants of slave teachings.  Because, however, these practices are accepted as standard, and touted as healthy, we, in essence, manufacture, disabled Black men.  All of our patterns and behaviors begin in childhood.  We go through our entire lives mirroring the “truths” we learn before we were 10 years old, never really dealing with our issues because they are normal to us.  So to get to the origins of some of the pervasive and debilitating issues surrounding Black men, which are many of the issued Black men possess in staggering numbers, let’s take an in depth look at the life of a typical Black little boy, let’s call him Damon. 

Damon is a beautiful, brown little boy with all the potential in the world.  He, like almost every black child, is being parented by his single mother.  He was the “byproduct” of a four month fling in which his mother, a very pretty, light-skinned women got pregnant and her “boyfriend” did a Maury Povich and said, “It ain’t mine.”  Turns out he was and the father has to pay court ordered child support and has scheduled visitation.  Damon’s grandparents are “high yellow” and they often criticize their daughter for getting pregnant by such a “Black” man, right in front of Damon.  His mother wasn’t emotionally prepared to have a child, because she, like most Black women, hadn’t dealt with her own issues.  Oh, she is excellent at repeating clichés like, “I’m a strong black woman, I don’t need a man, and, I can be the mother and the father.”  But those are just empty and irrational sayings that have no meaning because any mature adult knows that a child is best reared by two parents in a loving environment and it’s not even emotionally possible for a mother to teach her son how to be a man because she has no clue what it means to be a man.  She might be capable of raising him to be a good person, IF she had cleaned up the mess of her own emotional life first, but she didn’t and she beats the crap out of her son for every minor, perceived, or imagined infraction, every chance she can get, saying that she’s teaching him discipline when all she’s really doing is reinforcing violence and hatred. 

In order to be a trusting adult, you need to have reliable, dependable people in your life, you need stability.  Damon is 8 years old and he’s lived in four apartments already.  He and his mother move frequently to avoid getting evicted for failure to pay the rent.  His mom works a steady job but she spends her money carelessly, opting to buy clothes and shoes, and getting her hair done in order to be attractive to men rather than budget her money and provide a stable home for her child.  She thinks that Damon is the reason she can’t get a man, an although, to her credit, she doesn’t come out and say it, she shows it in her behavior, quick to leave him at various “auntie’s” houses any and every chance she can get to go out on a date.  Damon’s absentee father breaks promises all the time in order to get out of his parenting responsibilities so he can run the streets with all his women.  Poor Damon.  He learns very early that father’s are never present and that women put men first.  The only thing that is constant in his life, the only thing that he can truly trust, is that there is going to be change and disappointments.  He has to make new friends every time they move and he never really feels a sense of permanence or feels like he has a home because he knows at any moment, his mother could say, “Start packing, it’s time to go.”  Damon grows up and he doesn’t let people get close to him because believes relationships are temporary and he’s never had anyone provide stability, consistency, security, or even a sense of being loved in his life.

Little Damon learned early on that he wasn’t good enough, that there was something inherently wrong with him.  His mother would come home from work, frustrated and angry from the job and yell and scream at him.  It was usually her chance to get out all her frustration with the world.  “Damon, you stupid little nigga, you are just like your father, that no good son of a bitch.  I hate him.  You are an evil, hateful child.”  Sweet innocent Damon hears that and learns that he was born no good, that he isn’t good enough as is, so he has to become something else, someone else.  He wears the mask that grins and lies.  Adult Damon adapts his behavior to what he learned as a child by being untrustworthy, never really being his authentic self with anyone, shaping and morphing his personality to fit people’s needs, and ultimately, he can’t keep up the façade and lets them down when the game gets too demanding.  It becomes too tiresome to keep up the image of being something and someone he really isn’t, of pretending to be someone he’s not, so he doesn’t keep his promises, he doesn’t follow through, he doesn’t live up to his word.  But the real authentic Damon, the one inside is looking for validation.  He’s never gotten it, he’s not even sure it exists, so all he knows is to keep lying, keep pretending to be something he’s not to prove to the world that he is worthy.  When he let’s the people around him down, his subconscious mind validates his mother’s words, that he really is no good.

Little Damon learned to lie at an early age.  His mom would always make him responsible for her happiness.  She would call him “her little man” and tell him that he was the only man in her life.  He felt responsible for making his mommy happy.  He hated seeing his mommy mad at him, and she would fly off into a rage when he did something bad, so when she confronted him, he would lie to make his mommy proud of him, to make sure she loved him.  Damon would never get a spanking when he lied, but he would get a beating every time he told the truth.  Mommy, desperate to make Damon the man in her life, never held little Damon accountable when he lied to others.  She coddled him and defended him against anyone who would dare accuse him of anything wrong because she thought any implied imperfections of her son were a reflection on her poor mothering skills.  If his mom sanctioned his lying by telling her own lies then lying couldn’t be all that bad.  Lying got him out of trouble, made people happy, didn’t make people mad at him.  It became first nature for Big Damon to lie, to deny, to deceive, and to lie some more.  Adult Damon lies so much, he doesn’t even realize what the truth is.  He can look a person in the eye and lie without so much as blinking an eye and he has no concept that he’s wrong for it. 

“Little boys don’t cry.”  Little Damon heard it over and over again.  “Be a man, don’t be a sissy, real men don’t cry.”  Okay, so little Damon holds in his tears as best he can.  He wants to be a man, right?  All the men in his life are playboys.  All the men in his life use women for sex.  Every message he gets, from TV to friends to that same absentee dad who blows him off for his dates is that men fuck women to prove their manhood.  When he has sex for the first time, usually at an exceptionally young age, he “feels” this great sensation.  It’s more than physical, it’s a moment of release where he can be himself.  He loves that feeling.  He isn’t able to articulate it because  . . . well because he’s never ever been taught to express his feelings because that’s not something boys do.   He associates sex with feeling good but never with intimacy and connection because those are terms he doesn’t even understand.  Everything in society tells him that his big, black dick makes him a man.  Not once is he told that a being a man means having integrity, keeping your promises, being honest when it means you won’t get what you want.  Big Damon uses women for sex left and right, craving the sensation of closeness, craving the opportunity to let down his guard but completely unaware of how to go about it with a partner.  He knows pornos and women who yell and scream at him for being emotionally unavailable but he doesn’t have a clue as to what they are talking about so he moves on to the next woman to fuck and see if he can’t get that feeling again. 

Damon is every Black man.  His experience isn’t identical to every Black man but in far far too many instances it’s damn close.  Now, the triggers can be different.  I could tell the same story with Damon and he could have lived in the same home all his life, with a dad and a mom who were super rigid and super strict, he could have waited until he was a grown man until he had sex but the messages he learned were the same:  that people are untrustworthy, that there’s something inherently bad about him that needs to be suppressed and that lying makes life easier and that sex soothes his weary soul.  Damon has grown up to be an emotionally immature man who uses women for sex without remorse, who lies constantly, who feels justification for never trusting anyone and who changes his persona to fit every relationship in his life.  The saddest part is that Damon doesn’t see anything wrong with the way he is because it’s been his programming since before he had memories and it’s his natural state of existence.  I’m not saying that the reason black relationships are failing is because of Black men, but I’m saying that until men can break their patterns and as long as society tells them that they are justified in whatever they do, we are fucked as a race. 

If Black men can figure out that the messages they got as children, the bad programming, figure out what happened to give them the blueprint for their life were fucked up, they can start the healing process.  I pray that I can somehow get Black men to see that their blueprint wasn’t designed well but that doesn’t mean that they are bad people and it doesn’t mean that the foundation for their lives is right, we can start heal Black relationships. 

Copyright 2006 Scottie Lowe

Tired of seeing black women being portrayed as ghetto bitches, freaks and whores, and black men as barely literate thugs, bulls, and pimps, Scottie Lowe decided it was time to show black people in a positive sexual light. Ms. Lowe is the sole owner and founder of www.AfroerotiK.com, a company dedicated to eradicating the negative and stereotypical depictions of Black sexuality and providing customized, personalized erotic stories for and about people of color.  Her innovative approach to writing Black and interracial erotica is shattering misperceptions and opening the doors to dialogue about subjects long considered taboo. 



Wednesday, June 29, 2016

Minority Affairs: Intense Interracial Erotica

Check out this groundbreaking book of sexy tales across color lines.  Not only will you get hot erotic stories but breathtaking images as well.  

Minority Affairs

My Emotional Needs





Every person is going to have different emotional needs based on their life experiences and their personality.  What many people don’t grasp, understand, or acknowledge is that events from our childhood, events that happened that we don’t even remember, psychological factors form our identities and how we process our emotions.  A great many people, the overwhelming and vast majority of people have never once considered or examined those things, those contributing factors to understand why they are the way they are.  I’m not that lucky. 

For ME, and me alone, I was raised by an emotionally and psychologically disturbed, unloving, physically abusive mother.  For the first, most formative years of my life, I was raised, however, by my grandparents who did an exceptional job of loving me and laying the foundation for me to be SOMEWHAT sane.  Many of my emotional needs stem from the psychological abuse my mother inflicted upon me. 

My first essential, primary, instinctual need is to feel loved.  Now, for most people, saying, “I love you,” means, I want to be in a relationship with you.  That’s not nearly enough for me.  I need to see your love evidenced.  Love is a verb.  Love is action, not words.  Love is showing me that you value me more than any other person, that you want my happiness, that you appreciate my talent and gifts and you’re willing to nurture them, that you respect them, that you are willing to put the needs of the relationship above your own personal, selfish needs.  If you curse me out, call me names, if you do things to intentionally hurt me, that’s not love, that’ abuse.  Love is not having to be asked to fix chicken soup and orange juice when I’m sick because your heart hurts when you see me in pain.  Love is cleaning off my car when it snows without me having to ask.  Love is making note of something I said I want six months before my birthday.   I NEED to feel loved.  I need to feel like my presence in your life is essential and that you would be “less than” without me.  It doesn’t mean buying me things, although sometimes that may be part of the package, but I need to feel like when I’m not in your physical presence that you are thinking about me and that it is your desire to make me happy . . . because you know and see and feel that I love you equally as intensely. 

I NEED honesty.  Honesty is not an emotional need however.  The emotional need is trust.  I’ve yet to meet the man who understands the concept of true honesty.  In this society, lying is first nature.  Most people lie by their first interaction with another human being during the day. Most people lie more than tell the truth.  I need honesty in ways that most people have never contemplated.  If you’ve never made a concerted effort to make sure that every word out of your mouth is true, then you lie habitually and constantly.  I have spent the last 20 years of my life trying very hard to make sure that I not only tell the truth but that I confess my lies when I tell one.  It’s hard work.  But, with that, comes the trust I need in a relationship.  I need to know that you will tell me if you aren’t happy, if you meet someone you find attractive, I need to know if you can confess when you lie.  I need to trust with all my heart that you will protect my heart.  I’ve said it to every lover and none of them have honored their promise.  I can handle the truth.  I can handle when you tell me something bad, something embarrassing, something regrettable.  I can handle you telling me that you cheated.  I can handle the truth.  If you tell me that you did something heinous and reprehensible, and you explain to me why you did it, and you come to me in HONESTY, we can figure out what made you do that particular thing, it’s possible I might be able to forgive you.  More than likely I won’t even be upset or mad.  More than likely, if you tell me the truth, if you tell me the thing that you think is going to make me hate you, I will simply see you as human and capable of making a mistake or being misguided or being damaged, like we all are.  If you lie . . . if you lie and don’t come clean and confess and make every effort to tell the truth so that I know that I can trust you, the relationship is over. 

My mother has never been supportive of me a day in her life.  Never once has my mother said, “You can do it, I believe in you.”  Because of that I need a lover who can be my cheerleader.  That means being able to make coffee and hand out flyers for the movement.  Seriously, it means I need you to see the vision I have for AfroerotiK and be able to contribute to my efforts, not deter from them.    What do you do well?  Show me that you believe in me not only with words but with your actions.  Are you going to set up the chairs for an AfroerotiK event, are you going to make sure the club owner has the right music queued up?  If all you are going to do is show up after everything is set up, and leave before everything is broken down, you are dead weight and I don’t need you in my life.  Of course, I understand if you have RESPONIBILITIES that prevent you from being there each and every time, but your support should be the rule, not the exception.  If you have to take your mother to the doctor’s, if you have to handle an emergency at work . . . I will certainly understand if you can’t be there for me on occasion.  But being supportive of me means knowing what projects I have in the works, getting a business card from someone you meet that you think might be able to help me.  It means that your only focus in life is not your career or the things that directly affect you but that you will make sure that I have quiet time when I need to write and you won’t pout and be self-centered and act like my every waking moment should be spent attending to you. 

When I was a child, a very small child in fact, my mother would get mad at me and not speak to me for WEEKS.  I lived in the same house with my mother who would go two, three, four weeks without saying a word to me.  I have the emotional need of being listened to, of being heard, of being respected, of being forgiven for my wrongdoings, and for basic communication.  I need my lover to be able to articulate his feelings in a healthy, constructive manner.  He can be mad at me all he wants.  He can’t be mad at me and not tell me about it.  He can’t expect me to know why he’s mad.  What he can’t do is not talk to me for extended periods of time.  That hurts me.  If he can’t express his feelings in a healthy way, I feel that same horrible isolation and fear that I felt as a young girl and that’s not good. 

I need to be valued for more than my gender role.  I am not sure what emotional need that would be.  Respected?  Appreciated?  I get that for thousands of years women have been relegated to the role of domestic, cook, maid, and child care provider.  I cannot and will not be in a relationship with anyone who thinks that my vagina makes me the only person in the household who can clean a toilet or dust.  We have to be able to sit down and figure out a system where I don’t feel like I’m your maid or where I feel like I’m being taken advantage of because you are holding on to absurd ideas about what a woman brings to the table.  I bring empathy, compassion, intellect, integrity.  Yes, I’m a very neat, clean, tidy person but it’s not my job, there is nothing about my uterus that designates that I have to follow behind you and clean up after you.  I need the spirit of cooperation in my relationship for me to flourish emotionally. 

Those are MY emotional needs.  If I have each of those needs met, I am desperate to fulfill every single solitary sexual fantasy my partner has.  Other women, obviously, will have other needs to varying degrees.  It’s the responsibility of each partner in a relationship to communicate their needs and work to helping their partner getting their emotional needs met.  That could be anything from being admired, feeling safe, feeling proud, or being in control, etc.   Men have emotional needs as well but they really haven’t done the work to know what they are.  Most men confuse their emotional needs with their physical needs.  They want to feel special and unique and they think that a woman having sex with them is sufficient to fill that need.  They don’t know how to communicate or express their fears or insecurities so they look for sex to fill that void.  The point is, even if your partner doesn’t know what their emotional needs are in the same way I do, it doesn’t mean that they don’t have them nor does it mean that they can be ignored.  In a relationship, you should be working to figure out what your emotional needs are, as they should always be evolving, and the need or your partner based on their actions and patterns, in order to build a stronger partnership.