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.

Showing posts with label opinion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label opinion. Show all posts

Saturday, May 15, 2010

What Scottie Wants Too

Recently, I got an inquiry from a young lady who had some questions about my recent essay, What Scottie Wants (http:// I decided I would post her query and my replies here for all to see, discuss, digest, and debate.

I read with great interest the precis of your romantic history, findings of the study you conducted on yourself and the subsequent litany of requirements and expectations facing the next incumbent.

I would like to commend you on an extremely well written piece and for sharing your personal thoughts in such a carefully considered, open, clear and resolute manner.

In the spirit of debate, I have taken the liberty of adding my comments. I also have several questions as I found some of your statements thought-provoking and controversial. I would be most interested to read your responses at your earliest convenience:

While there is nothing wrong with knowing exactly what you want, do you think there is a possibility that treating these things as if they are a grocery list could hold you back from meeting the one for you? What is your success rate applying this new approach?

Do you believe you have opened your heart to more than just the perfect relationship?

I recently read an article on dating and agree with the author's assertion that it is important to have realistic expectations of oneself. The author encouraged me to think - I was born with what I have and try to make the best of it. That is all that matters- end of story. A lot of attraction is based in confidence and attitude. Do what makes me comfortable with what I have and never look back. I wholeheartedly agree with the author's advice that while I we should cut ourselves some slack in the expectation area, we should extend that consideration to other people. Do you, Scottie, expect one man to meet all your criteria? Do you think all those attributes exist in one person exactly as you define them? If such a man does exist, statistically, what do you believe are your chances of meeting him? And if you do meet this man - I would be particularly interested to learn what YOU have to offer HIM?

I think your first two stipulations are perfectly reasonable. I found your third regarding religion, interesting. I actually concur with your opinions on religion however, I was left wondering why you would find a partner affiliated to a major religion (as long as they are not a zealot) so offensive? Do you not consider it possible for YOU to have a successful relationship with someone affiliated to a major religion provided your partner does not try to recruit you to their religion or demean your own beliefs? What about men with affiliations to minor religions? What about a Satanist? Furthermore, would you consider an application from a man who neither shares your view that God is indescribable, scientific, all-encompassing nor believes the earth’s animals could fit on one Ark?

In your section which addresses interests and aptitudes - you mention your dislike of hip-hop which I agree much of is hugely degrading, offensive and misogynist. Would you be interested in a man who agrees with this too though enjoys reggae music some of which is extremely homophobic and misogynist. What about pop music - much of which is churned out by girls/women who have elected to degrade themselves. Heavy Metal music has long been attributed to the suicides of young people (e.g. Smells like Teen Spirit by Nirvana).

You say you desire a partner who has varied interest he can teach you about but that are not in conflict with your beliefs. Does this mean you are not open to ever changing your mind about something having learnt a new angle on a subject? Do you really mean by 'not in conflict with your belief' - 'be prepared to always agree with you?' This is a question, not an accusation.

You say you need someone in your life who is equally as committed to telling the truth, monogamy, doing what’s right even when it’s not easy, with respect for their family, who carries themselves with dignity, and who treats you with reverence at all times. You say you have learnt the hard way that compromising on someone who doesn’t see the value in honesty, integrity, and upstanding character will ultimately make you unhappy in the relationship. This is an excellent standard to set oneself but can you honestly say you deserve to be treated with reverence (a feeling or attitude of deep respect tinged with awe; veneration) at all times?

You say you would prefer that your man be a man of color, what color exactly doesn’t really matter to me. I will remain open to that man being white as long as he meets all my other criteria as well. Could you please define what constitutes a 'man of color' so I can understand what your preference is? If the color does not matter, how do you then explain having a preference?

I was not offended or outraged by your final pre-requisite - just intrigued and a little confused.

"If there is one thing that I’ve held fast to on my list, that hasn’t changed in the past few years, that has offended and outraged more people than any other thing on my list, is the fact that I require my partner to be openly bisexual. I require a man who has redefined his sexuality, who is comfortable with his sexuality, who is open to loving and being loved by another man"

You desire an openly bisexual man yet you also desire a man who is willing to be monogamous. How would that work? How can a man be monogamous (you said you require a man who is committed to monogamy) and be conducting sexual relationships with other men? You say you are willing to compromise on that depending on the person and the dynamics we share; if you find a partner who is all that you seek and he’s interested in maintaining relationships with other men, you will certainly entertain the conversation, see what sort of compromise you can come to that doesn’t hurt your feelings or leave him feeling unsatisfied - yet you have repeatedly said you are not prepared to compromise on any of your requirements. Why would you need to compromise anyway if you are actively seeking a bisexual man? You say you would like a man who is open to loving and being loved by another man. What about being loved by another woman?

You say you long since given up my need to be with another woman - just out of interest, why is that?

Another point - a man who can cry when he has to and not feel that’s a determinant of his manhood has absolutely nothing to do with sex and sexuality. My brother is gay and feels most uncomfortable about crying. What about women who find it difficult to cry if they need to - I know a few of those too.

I would be most interested to know what it means to be 'sexually progressive'. Sexually 'open' I understand but how does one 'progress' sexually in this context - I would like to understand the difference.

I very much look forward to hearing from you soon. Thank you again for giving me so much food for thought - I now have indigestion!

Here is my reply:

First, let me say that I usually have no reason or inclination to respond to individuals who question my preferences because they are just that, my preferences. If you don’t like my preferences or you have different ones, then so be it. I’m not trying to convince anyone that my preferences are ones that all people should adopt or that mine have more validity than anyone else’s. I am unique and I bring a certain set of talents, abilities, and dynamics to the table that require an equally unique mate. I find that most people who question my criteria, more often than not, posses a warped need to feel superior, so they condescend in order to try to tear me down or make me feel insecure about my preferences in a mate. Perhaps that’s not the case with you but I’ll entertain your spirit of debate because I don’t mind explaining myself for your benefit today. I’m quite confident in my choices and if you take issue with them or feel a need to question me or need clarification, I can play along.

If someone were shopping for a car and they said they needed a car that seated six comfortably that got 30 miles per gallon and had GPS navigation, On Star, side air bags, video monitors, Sirrus Radio, and came in Black, I suspect you wouldn’t question their preferences nor would you assert that they shouldn’t have a list nor would you try to demean them for the things that they prefer. Everyone has lists of what they want in a partner, some longer than others, some more superficial than others, some realistic, others not. Being specific about what you want is not a bad thing, whether it’s for an inanimate object or for a person. Trivializing my criteria for a mate down to nothing more than a “grocery list” takes nothing away from the fact that I have been in relationships, I’ve grown, I’ve taken the time to assess what works for me and what doesn’t. I’ve worked on myself and I’m clear on what sort of partner I desire in my life and with what sort of person I would be most compatible. It’s no different than you saying you want a three bedroom house with a garage, a finished basement, a corner lot, an updated kitchen, in a neighborhood with good schools, and a pool. If someone were to suggest to you that you shouldn’t have a list and that that list was standing in your way of actually getting what you want, you’d probably laugh and tell them to kiss your ass. If you find a great house and it doesn’t have a pool but there’s a community pool a couple blocks away, you, being a mature person, would reassess your list of must haves and adjust it accordingly. If an individual doesn’t have criteria for what he or she desires in a mate, they will settle for anyone and anything and their relationship will be doomed for failure. The Temple at Delphi cautions us to “Know Thyself”. I do, intricately and intimately. And armed with that knowledge of self, I have a list of things that are tolerable and other things that are not that form my wish list for a partner. Will I eliminate a great many people with my list? Yes, and that’s the point. I’m not interested in anyone who is average. Am I willing to compromise on my list? To a certain extent, yes. If I find someone who has 7 or 8 out of 10 things I want in a partner, I will certainly give them a chance. Will I lower my standards in order to appease the egos of people who try to assert that my list is unrealistic or too specific? Not a chance in hell. I didn’t say I wanted someone who was 6’3” tall who makes a million dollars a year and drives a blah, blah, blah type of car and who has a 10 bedroom home. I want a man whose intellectual, spiritual, social, sexual, and mental energies match my own. That’s not asking too much and moreover, I think everyone should be searching for a partner who matches them on those criteria, whatever levels or energies they may be.

I’m not looking for a perfect person, I’m looking for the perfect relationship FOR ME. I made it very clear that I’ve opened myself up to shades of gray when it comes to finding a partner. Yes, I want the perfect relationship for me as everyone should want, desire, and seek the perfect relationship for them. I desire a peaceful, harmonious, emotionally mature, committed, healthy, monogamous relationship. Why would I want something flawed and dysfunctional? I don’t think any person is perfect, including myself but that doesn’t mean I should have no standards for what sort of relationship I seek either or seek a relationship that doesn’t fulfill me.

There is not one thing on my list of criteria that I don’t possess. Again, I’m not looking for perfection within one person. I don’t expect him to be without flaw, I simply seek a partner whose flaws compliment and balance mine in such a way that we can form the bond that sets the stage for a long term relationship. My chances of meeting, connecting with, and establishing a relationship with my ideal partner are just as good as, if not better than Joe Blow average on the street. Yes, my dating pool is limited because I don’t want the average man and I have criteria that reduces the number of potential partners BUT I’m more prepared than most to form a healthy relationship; I’ve done more work on myself, I’ve refined, transformed, and evolved more than most people who meet someone in the online and form a relationship based on their own insecurities, flaws, and unresolved issues.

And since you want to question what I bring to the table, I’ll tell you EXACTLY why I will be a great partner for my future mate. I am a woman of unparalled integrity. I am a mother of a movement to educate and enlighten, to which I’ve dedicated and sacrificed my life, I am an outspoken activist, author, and caregiver. I posses above average intelligence and a kind, warm, giving heart. I have done the work on myself, I am fully aware of the triggers I have that set off my feelings of insecurity and abandonment. I am an excellent communicator, I have evolved past the lies and mistruths that shaped the consciousness of African Americans and I work diligently to dismantle the stronghold the chains of mental slavery possess over my people. I am a champion for the oppressed, creative, artistic, logical, well rounded, and I’m autonomous. I am not at all materialistic nor do I ascribe to the trappings of capitalism yet I’m sophisticated, classy, well-traveled, and down to earth. And to top it off, I’m together enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to not at all be intimidated by people who want to question me and what I bring to the table.

If someone believes in all the stipulations of the word’s major religions, if they have not ever questioned, investigated, or explored other truths, then I would be hopelessly doomed in a relationship with said person. I am an academic, I would not be happy, satisfied or fulfilled with a, shall we say, dim witted person. Equally, I cannot ever be satisfied with a person who believes God is a man and all the folk tales and mythologies of the major religions. If I meet someone who says that they were raised Christian and then questioned its tenants and decided that they were more comfortable as an Atheist or Zoroastrian or Pagan or whatever, I’m cool with that. Clearly, I’m not going to be with someone whose religion teaches hatred or human sacrifice or worshipping evil. It’s absurd to think that I would be enamored with anyone whose religious beliefs were in direct contradictions to my life’s mission but as long as they weren’t Christian I would be okay with it. I don’t need a person to believe the exact same things as I do but I can’t have a partner who believes in the fairy tales of Judeo/Christian oppression either. I thought I made that clear previously but apparently my writing skills aren’t as adept as I once thought.

Not every song in hip-hop is offensive, not every song is misogynist and degrading. There are even some hip-hop artists who are positive and conscious. Of course if I met a man who liked hip-hop and listened to the more enlightened artists, I would be fine with it. Perhaps I need to be more specific. REGARDLESS OF THE GENRE, I’m not going to date a man who likes, enjoys, or supports music that degrades my gender, race, sexuality, or any oppressed class. I’m always willing to learn but I don’t want a partner who is going to try to teach me the values of calling women bitches or how the bible is the only true living word of God. I want a mate who can expand my consciousness, who can help me grow and evolve, who can teach me things I’ve never been exposed to before, not who is going to argue with me over things I stand in firm disagreement with. I’m open and receptive to learning about art, music, the theater, food, wine, travel, metaphysics, science, philosophy and a whole host of topics that I don’t a thing about but are not in contradiction with my beliefs. Only the most self-centered person would assume that there can be a relationship without disagreement. I don’t desire a relationship fraught with conflict and arguments but I don’t arrogantly assume that there is going to be a utopian relationship where we only see each other as perfect all day, every day either. In my last relationship, my ex and I didn’t share similar philosophical beliefs at all and yet we never argued. We got along extremely well, even in stressful situations, we communicated our disagreements better than most couples have the knowledge or ability to do. It’s not a stretch to say that I’d like to be in a relationship with someone whose ideological beliefs compliment my own and we don’t have to argue and yet he can still teach me about things that are not in conflict with my core beliefs. I refuse to even address your assertion that I don’t deserve to be treated with reverence because every human being is deserving of being treated with awe and respect from the person with whom they share their life.

My preference is for a man of color, any color, who has a unique cultural identity different from the oppressive Caucasian standard by which men and society are measured. I desire a man who has a different history, who has different cultural practices of which he’s extremely proud and committed to preserving. I desire a man of color who has not been born with the unearned privileges of white men and who has struggled to maintain his unique identity in a world that wishes to erase, eradicate, and legalize homogeneity. I’m not attracted to men who have the disease of “whiteness” and the arrogance, condescension, and fallacy of supremacy that Caucasian men inherit. Whether he be Tongan, Incan, Aborigine, Eskimo, from the untouchable caste in India, or an undocumented Mexican, it doesn’t matter to me. The vast majority of the world’s population are people of color and I’m not attracted to the minority who belong to the race of people who participate in their oppression.

I am bisexual and completely capable of being monogamous in a relationship thus I don’t think it would be difficult to find the same in my partner. I have been with other women, I have loved other women, I have fucked other women, (very well in fact) and I don’t have a need to explore that part of my sexuality again. I will forever be attracted to women, certain women who match my criteria suffice it to say, and I will never give up my bisexual label, but if I don’t sleep with another woman again I won’t feel as if my life has been compromised or I’m missing out on something. I am not a man, however, and I don’t posses any of the things that a man can offer my mate. Therefore, if I meet a man who needs to feel the physical and emotional sensations he experiences when he’s with a man, then I must remain open to opening up our relationship to another man. Would I prefer that he sees me as the complete package to satisfy his sexual urges, of course, but I’m not sexually naïve enough to fail to recognize that even if I strap on and fuck my man in the ass, I’m still not a man and can’t give that intangible male thing that men have. If I were still actively attracted to women, I would expect my mate to be understanding of the fact that only a woman can provide certain stimuli for me, a certain softness, a certain ineffable “femaleness” that a man can’t provide. If I have a man who just wants other pussy, that isn’t going to work. A man who can’t control his sexual urges for variety isn’t a man I’m interested in nor would he be one I’m involved with.

I’m not attracted to emotionally stunted people, whether they be straight, gay, black, white, male or female. And since I’ve learned to anticipate your objections, I’m not attracted to emotionally stunted people of any race, creed, gender, religion, political affiliation, height, weight, or hair color. I’m not attracted to overly emotionally people either regardless of their sexual preference or chromosomal makeup or melanin content. I seek a balanced partner who can cry when he’s sad, angry, or hurt to release his emotions and who can move on, not wallow in feelings of self-pity, and experience an entire range of emotions in a healthy manner.

I desire a partner who not only can be open to exploring a myriad of sexual acts with me without feelings of guilt or shame but also who has no need to denigrate or denounce homosexual, bisexual, transgendered, asexual, or intersexed individuals for their preferences and practices either. Dare I say I even want him to be supportive of individuals in their search for sexual freedom and expression. That’s my definition of sexually progressive.

I certainly hope that clarifies things for you and that you find, meet and fall in love with your perfect partner as well.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

What Scottie Wants

I consider myself somewhat of an elitist; I’m not entertained by the same sorts of things that hold the masses captive. I gave up television for nearly a decade, didn’t own one at all, and I was very content entertaining and educating myself with the real world. I found the programming offensive, even back then, and that was LONG before reality television and the degrading shows that overwhelm the airwaves today. Even since transitioning back into the world of the boob tube, I limit my television watching to a few tried and true shows that don’t insult my intelligence, gender, or race. I pretty much stick to TNT, USA, The Food Network, and HGTV and very rarely stray. Recently, my cable network changed the station number of HGTV and I wasn’t sure of the new channel number so I just set out to surf around until I found it. What a tragic mistake that was.

I stumbled upon a show called, “What Chili Wants” on VH1 and something, some ineffable force, led me to leave the TV on that channel and watch the entire show. I was horrified on so many different levels that I was left speechless, staring at the screen in disbelief, looking around at my darkened, empty room, to find solace where there was none and expressing shame and disgust with myself for watching what was the equivalent of a cultural car crash. For those who don’t know and who have never seen the show (and I’m going to hope that constitutes a great number of readers) the premise is finding a mate for one of the members of the girl group TLC, Chili. Apparently, as she ages, she feels the pressures of that damned biological clock (and honey, let me tell you that clock is REAL) and she’s looking for a partner with whom she can settle down and raise a family. That part, I have no issue with. I’m there with her, I feel her pain; I am her. Anything and everything beyond that, turned my stomach.

Evidently, the producers at VH1 felt that Chili needed the assistance of a . . . a . . . a young lady, I refuse to use the word professional, to help her in finding a match. This young lady, whose name I don’t know and don’t care to know, was directed to find suitable men to set Chili up with on a series of blind dates to see if she found someone who matched her list of criteria for a potential mate. Now, I don’t know everything on this list but I could ascertain that he was to be Christian, older (relatively speaking), ready to commit to a relationship, attractive, and successful. I’m sure there were other things on the list but the show didn’t allude to them. In the particular episode I watched, Chili and this young lady had some tension because Chili wouldn’t lower her standards to date any one of the dozen or so men she was selected to date. Suffice it to say, this particular matchmaker wasn’t qualified to fill an order at a drive through window, let alone counsel anyone as to what makes a good partner and what qualities or characteristics should be compromised or not in seeking that soul mate. Suggesting that she lower her standards and setting her up with individuals who didn’t even meet her minimum criteria has to be, unequivocally, the WORST advice anyone could give in the process of finding a potential partner. The message in all of this absurdity was, having a man, any man, is better than being alone and as long as he’s attractive and employed, shut your mouth and be happy.

I recently ended a relationship, one in which I admittedly compromised my standards, and I ended up paying the price for it in the end. I’m still in the healing process and I am doing my level best to redefine what I want and need in my next relationship. Over the years, my personal list has changed, well, it’s evolved more than changed. I’ve refined what I want and I’m more determined now than ever to be stricter, more selective, more discerning in my partners and for good reason. If I have a certain set of criterion that is essential for me in forming a relationship, then if I compromise in those essentials, I will set myself up for failure. Most men, and quite a few women as well, get offended when I say that I will not compromise on my standards. They immediately interpret that to mean that I will not compromise in the relationship which is something totally different and untrue. There’s even a large collective of men who feel insulted when the things on my list of requirements don’t encompass qualities or characteristics that they possess. Apparently, I’m a bitch if I don’t lower my standards to date any and every man who thinks I’m attractive.

I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I can assure you that I’m a great partner in a relationship. Now great is relative because what I bring to the table, not everyone wants or cares about. Most people don’t have high standards for a partner. I suspect the majority of people want superficial things in a partner, like a certain level income, car, or a certain height, weight, skin tone, or some other meaningless trait that has nothing whatsoever to do with the quality of the person they to whom they are going to committ. Another contingent of people want characteristics so general, so non-specific, that almost anyone can fit their criteria. Simply saying, “I want someone who is intelligent and nice,” can cover a multitude of sins when trying to find someone who will be a great partner. Intelligence is relative and nice is subjective and neither of those things can reveal how a person is going to treat you in a partnership.

So, in my effort to be extremely specific as to what I require in a mate, I’m going to set out my criteria exactly for what Scottie wants. I don’t want what any other woman wants. I don’t want what most men bring to the table. I’m not interested in editing, modifying, or changing my list to appease anyone else’s ego.

• I require a man who is emotionally mature and introspective. That means he has to be able to express his feelings, show emotion when appropriate, communicate his position without projecting, blaming, or deflecting guilt, rage, or passive aggressiveness. I expect him to have done a great deal of work on himself, his issues, and to be able to articulate his challenges, to know the areas he still has to work on and be willing to grow and learn.

• I need chemistry. I’ve attempted to date men in the past who are, for all intents and purposed, very nice and suitable partners, but there is no attraction or chemistry. I can’t do that anymore. I need that spark, I need that electricity, that intangible connection that allows us to get each other’s joke, to communicate non-verbally from across a room, to just enjoy each other’s company without having to say a word. There is no rhyme or reason as to why I have innate chemistry with some men and not with others; I simply know that I am unwilling to form a relationship with someone unless that element is present. So much of forming a healthy, happy relationship is contingent upon being happy and without that chemistry the relationship is superficial. I need to be as physically attracted to my mate as I am spiritually, socially, intellectually, mentally, and culturally and we have to have an attraction to one another that goes beyond mere affection. If I am going to wake up next to someone every day for the rest of my life, I want to experience joy when I do, not regret, ambivalence or dread.

• It is essential for me to have a partner who doesn’t affiliate himself with any major religion. Religion is man-made and created to keep people oppressed and uninformed. I can’t form a relationship with someone who thinks that God is male, that people were created from dirt, or that the only people who are going to be favored by God are those who believe exactly as he does. I am spiritual; I believe in something infinitely wiser and more ordered than anything the human mind can comprehend. I’m not so arrogant to assume that anyone has the right answers as to how to define God, but I know it’s not a male being, I know it’s not random and arbitrary; I know I cannot form a relationship with anyone who has those beliefs. Are there others who can form relationship across religious beliefs? Sure. I’m not one of them. I need a partner who has questioned, researched, evaluated, and studied all the world’s religions and found truth in all of them and, ultimately, the frailties of all of them as well. To partner with someone who doesn’t share my beliefs would be tantamount to saying that what I know to be true isn’t true. If I believe that God is indescribable, scientific, all-encompassing, to partner with someone who believes at all the earth’s animals could fit on one Ark would setting that relationship up for failure.

• Similar interests and aptitude are essential for my partner. I don’t require that he like the exact same things as I do but he can’t like things that I find offensive. It would be great to find a man who likes the same music and movies and who loves to write as much as I do but that’s not possible or even reasonable to expect from someone. I would like, however, someone who respects that hip-hop (the vast and overwhelming majority of it) is misogynist, offensive, and degrading. I will not date a man who thinks that the N word is funny, appropriate, or no big deal. I will not ever, never, ever in my life date anyone whose political beliefs are right leaning. I would like a man who is as equally right brained as he is left brained. I desire a partner who can read my stories, articles, and essays and contribute thoughtful, insightful commentary without trying to debate or berate my every word. There are too many social ills that need to be fought in the world, I have no desire to fight with my man about the things I’m trying to educate and enlighten people about. I desire a partner who has varied interest he can teach me about but that are not in conflict with my beliefs.

• Sharing similar ethics, values, morals, and governing principles are essentials for my next mate. I need someone in my life who is equally as committed to telling the truth, monogamy, doing what’s right even when it’s not easy, with respect for their family, who carries themselves with dignity, and who treats me with reverence at all times. I learned the hard way that compromising on someone who doesn’t see the value in honesty, integrity, and upstanding character will ultimately make me unhappy in the relationship.

• There was a time when I would have said that my partner had to be African-centered. I’m willing to amend that and say that my partner has to respect that I see myself as a citizen of the world, that my spiritual and cultural homeland is Africa, and that I do not adhere to the vast majority of Eurocentric norms held as the standard. I have come to see that most people who identify as African-centered, Black Nationalist, or any other pro-Black movement have only replaced one set of oppressive beliefs for another. I desire a partner who can respect my identity as a Black woman, my hair as a political statement, my gender as an oppressed class, and my desire to stand up for the downtrodden people of the planet.

• I would prefer that my man be a man of color, what color exactly doesn’t really matter to me. I will remain open to that man being white as long as he meets all my other criteria as well. I will not date a white man simply because I find the pool of Black men lacking. He has to be held to the same standard as I would hold to my brothas and even higher because he has to have rid himself of his false sense of superiority that white men born in this country inherit and he must be willing to eradicate the fallacy of white supremacy alongside me. Is it likely that I will find a white man like that? Not very but I am not ruling out the possibility of finding love across the color lines. I don’t want to die old and alone. I’d like companionship and love and if that man is not a man of color, as long as he genuinely loves and respects me, I’m willing to do the work necessary to make it work.

• If there is one thing that I’ve held fast to on my list, that hasn’t changed in the past few years, that has offended and outraged more people than any other thing on my list, is the fact that I require my partner to be openly bisexual. I require a man who has redefined his sexuality, who is comfortable with his sexuality, who is open to loving and being loved by another man. I require a man who is sex-positive, meaning he has to be accepting of lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and the transgendered community. I will not date a man who is down low, meaning he’s bisexual but not willing to admit it to those whom are interested. It is essential for me to find a partner who has redefined masculinity and manhood in his life, who appreciates and respects that being receptive does not mean being weak, that male and female are compliments, not opponents. Most Black women want a heterosexual man, they think that bisexual men have AIDS, or they want a man who is macho and unemotional. Good for them. I want a man who can cry when he has to and not feel that’s a determinant of his manhood. I want a man who doesn’t have to tell gay jokes and bash gay men in front of his friends in order to validate his manhood. I’ve been told time and time again that I won’t be able to find a bisexual man who is willing to be monogamous but I am willing to compromise on that depending on the person and the dynamics we share. I’ve long since given up my need to be with another woman but if I find a partner who is all that I seek and he’s interested in maintaining relationships with other men, I will certainly entertain the conversation, see what sort of compromise we can come to that doesn’t hurt my feelings or leave him feeling unsatisfied. Too much of my identity and my mission is wrapped up in liberating our people from our sexual dysfunctions and I don’t want a man who believes that men can only get or receive pleasure in certain ways in order for them to be a real man. If he is not as open-minded and progressive as I am about issues of sex, we will not be a good match.

What Scottie wants is compatibility. What Scottie needs is love, respect, and commitment to forming a healthy, long-term, emotionally mature relationship. I want someone who fits my criteria because I’ve worked long and hard on myself, because I’m unique and I don’t have cookie cutter needs, because I deserve a partner who fits me like a glove and I won’t compromise my standards for love or money.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

. . . . To Be Fucked

It’s that time of year again. Every Spring, it never fails, my sexuality is awakened like the return of the birds and the bees and the flowers on the trees. My nipples seem to stay hard constantly and my pussy throbs at the slightest provocation. I fantasize about sex, about the sights, smells, and sensations of sex at its most raw, passionate state. I think about it, dream about it, I am reminded of past erotic exploits constantly, throughout the warm, sunny days and steamier, hot nights. I CRAVE a man in my life with whom I can express myself, my uninhibited, unashamed, primitive, primal, sexual self.

I need a lover I can let down my guard with, express myself without fear or shame, someone who cares about me outside the bedroom and who desires me completely inside it. I want hours and hours of hot, sweaty fucking that wakes the neighbors and leaves me drained of my every bodily fluid. I want to make a huge wet spot on the sheets and then fuck those same sheets off the bed.

I want him. I want MY lover. I don’t want to share him; I don’t want to question his fidelity. I want to suck his dick like no other woman has ever done, no, I want him to fuck my mouth like he fucks my pussy. I want to lick every inch; I want to swallow him whole, spit running down his balls. I want him to play with my nipples while I’m giving blowing his mind and tell me that he loves the way I give him head. I want to lick his nuts and feel them rolling around on my tongue. God, I want to spread those beautiful, brown asscheeks and look at his asshole as my mouth waters. I need to let my tongue flutter softly, gently over his sensitive skin, making him jump and moan. I want to put him on his knees with his ass in the air so I can take my tongue and drive it deep up inside him, licking, kissing, and sucking his hole while he begs me not to stop, while he tells me how good I make him feel.

Just when he’s going out of his mind, when he thinks he can’t take any more pleasure, I would roll him over and make a feast of his dick meat again. This time, I would lick my finger and work it up his asshole, hit his spot, make him squirm and yell into the pillow as I swallow, lick, and suck him all over again, stopping just when he’s about to blow. It’s not that I don’t want to taste that hot cum; I want him to save it for me. I want him to pump his sperm deep inside me, to be driven to unload his ball juice deep in my pussy because he craves me so much.

It’s the intimacy I miss so much, the connection with your lover where you can share all your secrets, be totally uninhibited. There is something comforting about laying back and feeling your lover please you from head to toe and not feeling like you are being selfish, not feeling like he is holding a score card over your head that you have to reciprocate in kind. There is no greater pleasure than feeling my lover pleasure my nipples, licking them softly, sending delightful sensations directly to my clit. Feeling his tongue gently flick those hardened brown peaks, cupping my full breasts to his mouth, back and forth, it’s indescribable. Kissing his way down my body, I can spread my long legs for him, giving him access to my treasure. I can feel his masculine fingers part my moistened pussy lips; expose my hardened clit, his warm lips just inches from my aroused sex. Hearing him inhale the scent of my wet cunt tells me that he craves me, my essence, all that I am. I long to feel his fingers invade me, manipulate me, to make me bite my lip trying to hold back my moans and sounds of pleasure. Knowing me so intimately, he would know that a flood of profanity will follow the minute he starts licking my juicy slit, tenderly coaxing my hardened clit from it’s hood. Giving him all access, pulling my legs back to my chest, exposing myself completely to him, feeling decadent and sexy being so vulnerable, I want to feel his tongue lick me from my clit to my asshole and every inch in between. I need his fingers in my asshole while he softly sucks my clit, my legs wrapped around his head, grinding my pussy on him, holding him to my mound while I try to cum so hard in his mouth he thinks he’s drowning, coating his face with my juices as I BEG for him to fuck me.

Make no mistake about it; fucking me is what I want. I can fantasize about all sorts of foreplay, even about how adventurous we could be as a couple, playing in public or playing with others. But all the mental stimulation in the world always ends up at the same destination. I want to be penetrated by a beautiful, strong, loving Black man. I miss the sensation of having that dick rub my pussy lips, teasing me, sliding up and down my slit, making me anxious and excited for that split second when we connect, that instant when I feel him enter me and we become one. I can’t think of a better sensation than feeling that thick, hard dick thrusting into me, pumping me, filling me with ecstasy. If there is a heaven, it’s having the full weight of my man on top of me, hearing him whisper in my ear, “Damn baby, your pussy feels so good on my dick, I love you,” with my nails digging in his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper inside me. And I crave him deeper, harder, faster, fucking me with all his might. From behind, I want him to grab my hips, to feel my tits swinging while his thrusts with all his might and he puts his finger in my ass. On top of him, I want to use his dick like my dildo, making myself cum, rubbing my clit up and down the shaft of his penis while I feed him my tits. Finally, with my legs pressed back and his tongue in my mouth, I long for that explosive finale when I can feel his dick POUNDING me, making me scream, tears in my eyes and ready to receive his precious gift when I’m getting thoroughly fucked.

Copyright 2010 AfroerotiK

Saturday, March 13, 2010

My Love/Hate Affair with My Country

I am to be counted among the small percentage of the population who harbors a simultaneous deep love and a heart-wrenching disappointment with my country. I can’t say that I hate my country by any stretch of the imagination because I adore the people, places, and events that have shaped my identity but to suggest that I have a God-Bless-America-Of-Thee-I-Sing blanket patriotism would be disingenuous as well. I love my nation but I see her flaws and shortcomings. I do not hate my country but I hate some of the aspects of it that taint its supposed greatness. I see myself first and foremost as a citizen of the world; my life and my story are reflected in the eyes of people from all around the globe. I’m not of the belief that man-made borders make the particular land I was born on more sacred; more deserving of peace, or that this soil somehow grants its inhabitants greater rights than any other human being. I can’t wear red, white, and blue colored glasses and wrap myself in Old Glory, blinded by visions of apple pie and baseball that distract me from the harsh realities of this country’s past, and present injustices.

I live in a country that I willingly acknowledge affords me personal freedoms that I take for granted every minute of every day. I love that I have a constitutional right to practice any religion under the sun in this country. Hell, I can create my own religion, recruit members, and be tax-exempt in this country if I so choose and it’s perfectly legal and I don’t have to worship in secret or fear late night storming paratroopers arresting and torturing me for my beliefs. I detest the fact that the commonly held perception is that this is a Christian nation and that oppressive, repressed, and tyrannical religious zealots have decided that their moral misinterpretations of the bible are the standards by which I should be judged. The only voices considered valid in discussions of faith are those who claim that Christianity is the only, true, and right religion for America and that the vast majority of my fellow citizens have no respect for my first amendment rights to religious freedom.

I love my country and the unparalleled sense of community and togetherness that arises when we face collective tragedy. I also love that I can speak my mind without fear of prosecution. I hate the fact that when I use my God-given common sense, logic, reason, research, and information to suggest that there are factors that surround September 11th that don’t add up, I’m persecuted and labeled a lunatic, conspiracy theorist, and unpatriotic. I will never forget the innocent lives lost on that fateful day but I don’t think those lives have more value than those lost during Hurricane Katrina or those lost en masse anywhere else in the world for that matter. I mourn for the families of those that died, and even those that survived but I recognize that millions upon millions of enslaved Africans who were kidnapped and enslaved and brought to this country have no monument, have no movie, no lobbyists in Congress, have no yellow ribbons on SUVs for their loss of life, liberty, and their pursuit of happiness.

I feel safe in knowing that I have the right to own a gun to defend myself even though I have not even the tiniest inkling to do so. Gun violence has proven itself to be an epidemic in this country and radical militias are plotting at this moment to kill people like me because their particular brand of patriotism deems me expendable in their pursuit of a purer nation state so that safety seems a tad bit misplaced but I accept that I have the right to bear arms. I’d much rather live in a nation where differences are celebrated and respected, where people can live comfortably in their own skin without the need to try to control, dictate, or annihilate anyone who makes them mad or disagrees with them. I understand that there are nations in this world where I couldn’t even express my displeasure without imprisonment or worse so for that I love my country.

I appreciate the fact that I can live freely as a woman in the United States without fear of having my genitals mutilated, state sanctioned rape, or being considered a second class citizen just because I possess a uterus. I’m troubled by the fact that I can’t turn on the television or radio without being insulted or denigrated for my gender. I hate the fact that misogyny is a multi-billion dollar form of entertainment in this country.

Unlike some other places on earth, I have the right to love anyone I desire, regardless of their gender here. Regrettably, I don’t have a right to marry whom I choose because some people believe that I will infringe upon their heterosexual rights if I do. I’m not gay. I’m not even sure I will ever have an overwhelming need to get married again. I just can’t stomach the fact that a country that proclaims to want the tired, poor, and huddled masses from all over the world doesn’t have tolerance and acceptance for our very own neighbors who want to share in a committed, loving relationship with all the benefits and privileges thereof. The very same people who claim that homosexuals are immoral and promiscuous are the ones who are working to ensure that they can’t ascribe to matrimonial monogamy. It’s difficult to understand why in this great land, we can’t live and let live.

I feel incredibly blessed to live in a country where I have a right to choose what to do with my reproductive body. Right to lifers in this country not only want to take my ability to control my body away from me, they also want to ensure that my child and I won’t have access to adequate affordable healthcare, housing, education, and opportunity. Their concern for my fetus ends when I give birth. Then, it becomes their mission to see that I’m denied every social benefit that ensures the well-being of my offspring and the community at large. It’s precisely that hypocrisy that infuriates me about the USA.

There can be no question that the U.S. stands alone as the richest, most alluring country in the world. People from other nations see this as the Promised Land. It’s here they want to move and migrate in order to realize their dreams of wealth and prosperity with vision of streets of gold and the land of milk and honey. My country has laws in place to ensure that I don’t have to toil in a sweatshop for a month and only bring home $7.00. The United States protects my rights if I’m injured on the job, if an employer harasses me, if I lose my job, and when I retire. The people of the United States, a very large portion of them rather, want to demonize people who come to this country in pursuit of a better life in this country. The disdain and hatred for undocumented workers, who work in jobs no one else would want, who receive a mere pittance in exchange for back breaking labor, and who have no rights as even human beings let alone employees is was makes me ashamed of my country. With all the wealth, with all the resources this country has, the greed and selfishness of people who think there isn’t enough to go around and who actually feel justified in their beliefs that we should build a wall to prevent people from having access to providing for their families is despicable.

I love that here in America I have access to museums and libraries and some of the best educational institutions in the world. I am incredibly blessed by the fact that my friends are from virtually every corner of the globe; I belong to a community of activists and artists who are passionate about fighting for justice, diversity, and truth. As an American citizen I can vote and participate in the political process however liberal my agendas. I hate that my ancestors had to shed their blood and in many instances, give their lives in order for me to be a part of that process. My heart soars that I could be a part of an election in a country with such an odious history of racism elected an altogether brilliant man of color to this nation’s highest office. I hate that racism is at the core of the right-wing criticisms against him. I love that I reside in a country where the freedom of speech is protected. I hate that Fox News isn’t seen for the hate-filled, racist, liars that they are and shut down with public outrage and a demand for more fair and accurate reporting. I love the sweet summer peaches of Georgia and the electricity of New York City at 4 a.m. I love the heartbeat of Washington D.C. and the shrimp etouffee of N’awlins. The music and culture of Miami’s Latino population infuse me with vitality and I’m equally moved by the traditions and food of the Chinese people of San Francisco. There’s nothing better than waking up on a brisk Chicago spring morning and going running by the lake. I love the Midwestern fields flowing with amber waves of grain and the purple mountains with their majestic views of my homeland, I love the Redwoods, the Grand Canyon, and the flowing Mississippi River. I hate the fact that the indigenous people of this land have been marginalized and disenfranchised with the acts of genocide that have been ignored and erased from the history books. I love Florence, South Carolina where I would go in the summer and spend time with my cousins and get bitten by mosquitoes the size of quarters and eat the best food I’ve ever tasted at The Thunderbird Inn.

I hate the projects of the inner cities where people are piled on top of each other like rats with no plan to provide them with affordable, decent housing, as if they deserve to live like that simply because they are poor. I hate the segregation of the south where Blacks are kept in their place with imaginary boundaries and intentional mis-education. I hate that the soil of the south is stained with the blood of my ancestors who hung from the trees like strange fruit for the entertainment of others.

I love my country because it is my home. To be born in this time, in this place is to be considered fortunate. Simply because I am a United States inhabitant, I know that my voice has a greater opportunity to be heard and, moreover, respected around the globe. Listening to the American art forms of jazz, the blues, and Negro spirituals soothes my soul. If only they weren’t born of the horrendous history of chattel slavery that has been sanitized to appear little more than a mistake and not one of the most egregious acts of terror against humanity that it really was.

Our founding fathers saw fit to ensure that each and every person born in this nation had the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The irony that plagues me is that during that very time individuals with beautiful black skin were considered 3/5ths of a human being, little more than animals, who labored to make this country the wealthiest in the world. I want desperately to love my country because it is the bastion of principles that it proclaims. Oh were it truly the land of the free and the home of the brave with liberty and justice for all. Sadly, they are empty clichés. Injustice reigns freely from sea to shining sea based on race, gender, income level, physical ability, age, and sexual orientation. I can’t, in good consciousness, give my unconditional love to a nation that perpetuates wars on concepts where innocent people are victims of capitalist agendas but I can love the potential for my United States of America, a beautiful jewel with flawed facets, to live out its mission so that all its children might be one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Scottie Lowe

Scottie Lowe is an author, activist, and she is also the creator of

Through the Back Door

Anal sex has long been considered a taboo and forbidden sexual practice. It has supposedly led to the destruction of cities and has been looked upon as something unnatural. Yet for all of the moral admonishments, laws governing its behavior, and the movement to keep people from doing it, the practice of anal sex continues to exist and, in fact, flourish. Anal sex is growing in popularity as women learn that it can be a source of intense pleasure and not merely something painful that they must endure at the hands of an insensitive lover. Men are coming to accept that anal penetration can be a deeply satisfying experience whether it be from man, woman, or toy. There’s evidence that stimulation of a man’s prostate is healthy and there are even sources that assert that anal penetration stimulates chakras, or spiritual centers in the body. Rimming, or the practice of performing oral sex on your partner’s anus, is often seen as an extremely pleasurable, intimate and bonding experience for both parties.

What are your thoughts on anal sex? Is it something that you are adamantly against and will never try? Was it something that you once thought was disgusting but now you enjoy? If you are a man, are you down with doing it to your lady but your ass is exit only, or have you tried a tongue or finger back there and found that you enjoy it? Ladies, do you get aroused by penetrating your partner with a strapon? Do you like anal sex more than vaginal sex? Tell us what you think and share your experiences.

Monday, November 02, 2009

A Short-term Thang

Relationships, at least here in the self-centered West, have a specific pattern. When a couple meets, they feel each other out, they date, they make an assessment as to whether the person to whom they are attracted is worth the emotional effort, and if said couple falls in love, the couple decides to pursue a relationship. The understanding is always that the couple is pursuing a “long-term relationship”. The unspoken definition of a long-term relationship, as we have been led to believe, is one defined by no end date. A long-term relationship is supposed to be forever, happily ever after, it’s supposed to symbolize the dissolution of the individuals and the birth of a couple who combine their lives and goals and stuff in a romanticized notion of pair bonding.

I have the distinct pleasure, the very unique opportunity to be in a short-term relationship. A short-term relationship is, as I have defined it, a relationship that has no specific end date but one that is also not formed with the false belief that it will last forever. A short-term relationship is one that takes advantage of the feelings of love, intimacy, companionship, and connection one can feel with an individual while taking into consideration that there are very specific impediments to the relationship that will not withstand the test of time, that will not pass the long-term-litmus. A short-term lover is one who has the benefits of all the closeness, passion, commitment, and love without the threat of maintaining everlasting bliss looming overhead.

My lover, my manfriend and partner, the person with whom I share my life and body is an amazing man whom I love conditionally. He is someone with whom I share a history -- a history that has been blemished by his betrayal and poor decision making. We are vastly different individuals in many ways who are also so alike it is scary at times. I hold no fairly tale illusions about a happily-ever-after with him but I am more than willing to revel in the happy-right-now feelings I have in my heart (as well as my other body parts that are outrageously satisfied). I’m working hard to implement all the things I’ve learned over the years about what it takes to be in a healthy relationship, the things I’ve practiced in my mind with my fantasy partner about not expecting him to read my mind, trying to communicate my fears and dissatisfaction without trying to belittle or demean him. I’m loving every minute of being able to express all the love I have in my heart by spoiling him, nurturing him, by loving him totally and completely without hesitation or reserve. Our core philosophical compasses are so dangerously opposite however it would be foolish to think that we can build a life of long-term goals together.

I am Black. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not only Black, but I’m super, unapologetically Black. I’m passionate about providing people of color, descendents of slaves, individuals of African descent a model and example of healthy relationships and sexuality that celebrates our differences without having to whitewash our unique identity, without conforming to clownish stereotypes, while divesting ourselves of detrimental and destructive behaviors we’ve acquired in trying to conform to an identity that is not our own. While he is a man of color on the outside, he doesn’t identify himself as such. He rejects his identity; he is comfortable, dare I say happy being surrounded by rednecks and very, low-class white people. He has spent his entire life believing that being Black is something negative that has to be overcome, something he has to deny in order to be accepted by his peers. To think for a minute that he and I have the potential to form a long-term relationship would be foolish. I NEED someone in my life long-term who can be supportive of my goals and objectives. I need a partner who not only can believe in my goals but whose goals are similarly aligned with my own. For right now, however, I can overlook those differences and see the things about him that are exceptional.

Because we have been socialized is such different circumstances, my great fear is that because his core/intrinsic attraction is to smoking, drinking, bi-polar, dysfunctional, mentally unstable, white women that I will once again become the discarded victim of his need to distance himself from being Black. He is uncomfortable with my blackness. He doesn’t like me talking about race unless I say that color doesn’t matter. He is more willing to let white people ridicule him about his race than he is willing to consider that I have a right to publicly express my displeasure with the way Black people are portrayed, depicted, and stereotyped. So . . . we choose not to talk about race. For the short term, that works. I can compartmentalize my life in such a way that we can laugh and joke and share a great number of conversations that don’t touch upon race, we can enjoy the moment without the burden of projecting what is going to happen years from now. Can I do that forever, for the long-term? Unquestionably, no!

He has never seen a healthy relationship; I come from generations of Black couples loving each other as far back as slavery. Our perceptions of what it takes to be in a healthy relationship are vastly different as well. His approach to relationships is not to think about anything, never question his choices. My approach is to analyze, dissect, think, and think again. We both see each other’s position as being flawed. I need to assess the mistakes and patterns of my past so that I can grow, mature, and make healthier choice in partners and relationships. His belief is that every choice he’s made in the past has been valid and justified because he was doing what he thought was right at the time, no matter how detrimental the outcome. We live in a tiny, backwards town where adultery, drugs, alcohol, and violence are the norm for relationships. We live in a town where everywhere we go, we are faced with one of his past dysfunctional lovers, all of whom he still cares about and defends as valid choices. I could easily say that I don’t need the drama, that I deserve better in a partner but that would be stupid of me to dismiss the fact that I’ve never met a man more committed to my pleasure, to my happiness, I’ve never met another man more willing to try to be a better man with me.

The things I love about him, the things that make him such an exceptional man, are largely the things that make him so vastly different than most African American men that have been socialized in Black communities. He doesn’t have the defensiveness, machismo, or absurd notion of what it means to be a Black man so he can be his authentic self. He makes me happy. I love being with him; I know deep in my heart that he loves me; I know that being my boyfriend is important to him, so much so that he’s willing to try something different than what he’s tried before. I question his ability to be completely honest but we are working daily on that with very good results. I’m working hard on trying not to change him, I’m trying not to be judgmental of his current emotional maturity but accept him for who he is and all the wonderful things that he brings to the table. I can be outrageously condescending in believing that my way is the only right way and that he has to think and believe as I do. I’m working on that. I know him to be thoughtful and kind, he is beautiful, sweet, sincere, intelligent, warm, and loving. When I think of his accomplishments and abilities, given his surroundings, I’m in awe of how outstanding a man he is. I know that when I tell him my concerns and objections that he’s going to make a concerted effort to address them immediately. He is attentive to my every desire and need. Those things have more value and weight in my choice to be the woman in his life, to be his girlfriend, than the fact that he was raised in a community of rednecks and has embraced them as his peers, loved them as his partners.

I think of all the romantic interests I’ve had in the past that would have benefited from a short-term philosophy. I think about how many nuanced things that adults should experience in a relationship that I’ve been deprived of because my relationships didn’t have long-term potential. I’m not at all sure that my man understands or believes in the whole short-term concept but he’s wiling to take things one day at a time and see where it leads us.

This culture, this society bombards us with clichés about opposites attracting and love conquering all but I’m introspective and self-aware enough to know that those are just empty words meant to distract people from the very real, very hard emotional work it takes to build a healthy relationship. I’m attempting to replace the dysfunctional, romanticized Hollywood picture of a long-term relationship with one that is based on appreciating the good things a person brings to the table while those good feelings last. When will our relationship end? As my grandmother used to say, “Honey, you have to ask someone smarter than me.” I would like to think that our relationship will come to an amicable end when it is time for one of us to move from this place. Maybe the relationship will end when one or both of us decide that the current situation is no longer fulfilling. Ideally, the relationship will end with no hurt feelings and the acknowledgment and recognition of the tremendous love we have for one another and how it has been a wonderful component to what will be our history as we move forward. There are those who would have me believe that our relationship will be long-term as long as we continue to accept each other, love will prevail, don’t be a cynic, anything is possible. etc. Equally as loud and equally as critical of my short-term relationship model are those who say that any man who has hurt me in the past, who doesn’t value me for who and what I intrinsically am as a person is not worth my time and effort as even a short-term partner. I have to say that I’m not only comfortable with my choices but I’m outrageously happy. I have weighed his pros and his cons and the benefits FAR outweigh the negatives. For the short-term, what he and I share is positive, affirming, beautiful, loving and wonderful and that works for me.

Scottie Lowe Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved

Saturday, September 12, 2009

To Be a Black Feminist

I recently read a deluded and sad “Letter to a Black Feminist” by a gentleman who blamed feminists for . . . well, basically, anything and everything he could think of. The fact that he didn’t even correctly identify what a feminist was or our real agendas didn’t seem to bother the numerous people who responded and told him how insightful and well thought out is misguided ramblings were. I am a feminist. I am an unapologetic Black feminist. I’m saddened by the lies, mistruths, and ignorance being perpetuated in my name and feel it’s my responsibility to share the truth for anyone who may be so inclined to learn and grow.

Here’s the Feminist Primer as simply as it can be explained.

Feminists work to dismantle the social, sexual, political, and economic disparity between the genders.

Feminists seek equality. Equality doesn’t mean we think we are as physically strong as men; it means we want our different strengths and abilities to have the same weight as men’s strengths and abilities have.

Feminists don’t want to be superior to men; we are not looking to replace patriarchy with matriarchy.

Feminists don’t want to emasculate men (although the concepts of masculinity and femininity are flawed, that’s besides the point). We have no agendas to make men more feminine but simply understand that there is a certain harmony and peace when masculine and feminine energies are in balance.

Feminists don’t seek to form matrilineal societies where women rule and have multiple spouses.

Feminists want to be seen as human beings, not objects, not submissives, not broken ribs or whatever fairy tales Black men want to quote to justify their insecurity with the concept that man and women should hold no power over each other.

Feminists aren’t lesbians, although we can be, but our sexual orientation has nothing whatsoever to do with our desire to fight the systems that keep women as second-class citizens.

Feminists don’t hate men although we certainly have a right to hate their privilege.

Feminists aren’t “against the family,” as so many Black men want to imply, we just don’t want the family to be based on a patriarchal model where men have the final say just because they have a Y chromosome.

Feminists simply take a stand against the oppression and tyranny of women under the false assumption of men being somehow inherently superior.

Feminists don’t want to be defined by how attractive we are to men but by our intellect, skills, talents, abilities, and our humanity.

Black men are so terrified of being equal to women that they raise these absurd and paranoid rants against feminists in order to deflect from their own emotional immaturity. Black men are hysterical. They yell and scream about how they want an end to the fallacy of white male supremacy but they don’t want anything to do with the end of male supremacy, ESPECIALLY if it means they might lose their historically unearned place as leader, ruler, and so-called king. As long as Black men feel they have a right to oppress, subjugate, or dominate women because some white man wrote a book that said that God deemed that anyone with a penis has special privileges to view women as inferior, then black men will be forever handicapped by their own ignorance and arrogance. Emasculating or hating men has NEVER been the agenda of feminists, that's nothing but bullshit rhetoric from immature and insecure men who want to keep women silenced and maintain their privilege of oppression. The very men who so vehemently hate feminists, who make us out to be evil estrogen wielding castrators, are the very men who are raping women, who are committing domestic violence, who are complacent when they see women being treated like whores and objects. Misogyny is a sickness within the Black community; it is a rampant disease that threatens our very existence. Until Black men can boldly declare that they are feminists, activists who fight for the equality of women, meaning they are willing to divest themselves of their unearned penal privilege and address how dysfunctional our society is in terms of gender, they will forever be emotionally handicapped oppressors.

Black women aren’t much better. We have no clue what a feminist is other than what we hear Black men yell and scream, we are so conditioned to try to conform to Black men’s whims, fantasies, and irrational demands, that we never question anything they tell us and we go along with what they say. Black women can more easily define what a touchback in football is rather than correctly define the term feminist, even though one is meant to make them appear more attractive to men and the other benefits their status and standing as a woman in society. Of those who have a tiny clue what the word means, they inevitably say, “White women have commandeered the feminist movement for their own agenda so I consider myself a womanist.” Ask a Black woman, “What’s the difference between a feminist and a womanist?” “Well, a womanist is more concerned with Black issues.” Does that mean that we need to come up with a different name for Democrat since I’m more concerned with Black issues than white Democrats? “Well, a womanist is more concerned with the family.” Well, white women get married more than Black women so this Black womanist movement isn’t being particularly effective, is it? You lessen your position of power if you refuse to face Black men head on with their misogyny and you attempt to side step them by using a more neutral term that they don't object to. You cannot be a warrior in the struggle if you are starting your crusade from a place of concession. If you refer to yourself as a womanist, you’ve already said to the world, “I don’t want to be equal to men because I don’t want them mad at me for being too radical.” Womanism is not the lite version of feminism, it's not the Black version of feminism, it's the patriarchal conformation to Black men's insecurities.

If there was ever a platform upon which we could stand and unite, all men and women, it is the feminist one which states that we will be seen as human beings, no more, no less, that women serve a greater role in the world than doing housework and being receptacles for sperm to satisfy men’s lust. We are individuals with equal strengths to bring to the table as men. They are not the same strengths, but they are equal nonetheless. Just as left is not better than right, hot is not better than cold, up is not better than down, white is not better than black, let us all agree the man is not better than woman.

Scottie Lowe

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Phone Bone

I've come to accept that I might not ever share my bed with a true partner. A true partner is someone who appreciates me, accepts me, someone who loves me for all that I am. My bed might only ever provide temporary refuge for men who feel a connection but fear the connection. It's very possible my lovers will be men who leave me feeling insecure and ugly, questioning my value and worth as a woman, a lover, and a partner.

But I am a woman with needs and desires that go unfulfilled for months and even years at a time. I long to feel desired and loved just like any other human being. I don't have casual sex; I can't go out to the club on a Friday night and meet someone I'm attracted to. I've learned the hard way that I can't go on a dating site and find someone with whom I share chemistry and connection.

I find comfort, safety, and release occasionally in phone sex. In the familiarity of my own bed, practicing the safest possible sex, thanks to AT&T, I can experience the intimacy, love and connection I desire. The men need not be perfect. I can pretend there in the dark that he is my ideal lover. His voice can caress me, his words can satisfy my hungers. I can touch myself and pretend that my dream lover tenderly, sweetly, gently delivers each and every stroke.

Phone sex is my only outlet. It's the only form of sex I can seem to have and not have crippling guilt and remorse afterwards. The longer I'm alone the more I realize how essential physical connection is. Every time I have sex with someone undeserving of my body and my love, I feel like I have to punish myself. I feel like I need to revirginize myself and go without sex for painfully long periods of time in order to purge myself of my "sin" of weakness. It's my weakness to my urges that I know are human and normal and natural that haunt me. With phone sex, I have no such angst, that disappointment in myself. My phone lovers aren't real so I can let down my hair and be primal and feral and never feel an ounce of remorse. I feel lonely afterwards, that's for sure, but FAR less than I do when I have sex with and I know that when he leaves my bed, he may not return.

My phone lovers, too, are few and far between. To be honest, most men are not great at making love to a woman's mind so it stands to reason that the skills needed to seduce a woman over the phone are underdeveloped as well. I don't want to be called a bitch; I don't want to hear fake and contrived scenarios. I just want a man to tell me how much he desires me, my body, my personal brand of pleasure. I want to experience his private pleasure with his words and sounds. I want to dance to images in my head sung to a poetic sonata of sensual bliss. I want to cum together and cry out in the night and feel that bond.

Ideally, I would be able to find a man who wants me and who is a great communicator and we could supplement our amazing sex life with occasional phone sex to keep things spicy. Minus that, I will have to find satisfaction in cellular love.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Sensual evolution

When I was a child, I thought as a child, when I became a woman . . . the theory is supposed to be that my thoughts and perceptions shifted to that of an adult. I’m convinced that one’s orientation doesn’t shift, one’s primary programming doesn’t evolve, one just becomes older and more adept at justifying and validating the belief systems passed down to him or her generationally.

In an effort to define my sensual evolution, I’ve taken some serious time to assess where I was and where I am now and where I want to go in terms of my sexuality. I’m reluctant to use the term evolution because I’m not convinced that my shift in sexual desires has moved to a higher plane. Perhaps it has just shifted around like a box of tissues in the back window of a car on a bumpy ride.

When I was a developing teen with raging hormones and no one to help me navigate my sexual feelings other than my other pubescent friends, my sexuality was defined by my mother’s collection of pornography in her closet. I was thrilled with words more than pictures and obviously, given my career choice, a fact has carried over into my adult life. I learned about sexuality from overtly misogynist and sexist material that objectified women. Thusly, my sexual desires reflected that fact. I wanted to be seen as desirable and subsequently my fantasies were in relation to that. My earliest fantasies were of doing the things that would make men want me, to see me as the most beautiful, to be the most pleasing to men. I worked hard to perfect my skills at giving head; I would construct intricate and complex scenarios to seduce my boyfriends, all my fantasies revolved around giving pleasure to men. Rarely, if ever, did I fantasize about men giving me pleasure. Two rapes, a failed marriage, a decade of being single, and the conscious effort to become more comfortable with my sexuality have caused my fantasies to shift. I no longer have a desire to be seen as beautiful or desirable to men, in fact, my desires are just the opposite. I want to be seen as a human being and a woman and the person inside the package.

For many years now, I’ve been asexual. I’ve put up a wall around my sexuality intended to keep people out. For me, the concept of planning a seduction and performing outrageous feats of sexuality to please a man are totally foreign to me. My sexual fantasies now mostly revolve around me being seduced and pleasured. In my 43 years of life, I’ve only been seduced once. I’ve had plenty of men want to give me pleasure but that really had nothing to do with pleasing me as a human being, it had more to do with conquering me as some sort of trophy or possession. I do fantasize of once again planning intricate and detailed seductions for my mate but the concept of finding a mate that appreciates all of me are the details I can’t seem to fill in in my imagination.

I used to fantasize about being with women; it’s been years since I’ve had those sorts of thoughts. I used to fantasize about sucking dick; now I chant “Eat me” in my fantasies. In fact, for the first decade of my sexual life, I never asked a man to perform oral sex on me because I thought that was an indication of being selfish. I would REFUSE to sit on a man’s face, even if he insisted that I do it. In my mind, it was indicative of something exclusively for me I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it. (I still don’t like doing it but that’s mostly because men tend to suck too hard on my clit when I’m on top and I like it SOFT) I still fake orgasms, almost pathologically, because I can’t let go of my conditioning that says that I have to make the man happy. Today, a large percentage of my fantasies unashamedly revolve around reciprocal anal play. Five years ago, the concept of two men together sexually triggered what I call the “knee-jerk talk show reaction.” That’s the standard, “That’s disgusting,” indignation that 99% of people have in the audiences of Jerry and Maury when the concept of male bisexuality is discussed that is blatantly absent when the issue is two women together. I realize now that my beliefs were part of conservative, Protestant-ethic, brainwashing that has no basis in really dissecting the causes, issues, and genesis of same sex couplings. Today, I find myself aroused by the concept of two men together and I also am aroused by the act of intimacy that a man extends to me in sharing his bisexual desires. Rarely do I fantasize about being penetrated and when I do, my fantasies are romantic more than sexual. In recent years, I was aroused by dominating men. Now, I no longer have a need to be sexually dominant I just accept that as a part of my sexuality. I don’t have a need to assert power over men, or to psychologically manipulate them, I simply long to be treated as a queen.

My ideal sexual fantasy at this stage in my life is to have a mate, lover, partner, boyfriend/husband that is committed to pampering me each night. I dream of a man that draws my bath every evening and pampers my body with oils and lotions and shea butter. Completely relaxed, he then takes painstaking efforts to bring me to orgasm based on the things that arouse me specifically, i.e. licking my asshole, fingering my magic spot, sucking my nipples gently, and eating me SOFTLY. Then and only then, when I’m completely satisfied, do I fantasize that I’m so wickedly pleasured that I have to have him inside me and we make love in a passionate and intense erotic experience. Upon awaking, he’s there behind me, to give me the morning wood that I love so much. I do fantasize that I take great efforts to keep him aroused and plan intricate seductions but it’s difficult to get a good picture of how I do that for the simple fact that I can’t see a man in my life.

I’ve tried to map out a roadmap of where I want to go in my sexual life from here but a lot of that is dependent upon finding a mate. Right now, I tend to think that I’m going to be primarily celibate for the rest of my life and that I’ll supplement my sex life with meaningless episodes once a year or so. That saddens me more than one can imagine but I’m extremely pessimistic about finding a mate. I would like to see myself evolving sensually with my mate, practicing tantric techniques and growing in love and communication. Where I go, how my fantasies will evolve is yet to be seen but I will be sure to monitor my motivations and desires in an effort to track my sensual evolution.

Have you assessed your sensual evolution? Have you asked yourself what things went into making up your sexual personality and how have you grown or changed? How are your desires different now than in years past and are they more healthy or have you just continued on without thinking about your sexual motivations? Share your thoughts and opinions.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Black Porn Sucks

The images of African Americans in the adult industry are largely atypical of the true Black experience. The perpetuation of racist and stereotypical images prevalent in the adult industry work to foster unhealthy and diseased perceptions of African Americans and render the majority of African Americans without avenue for healthy erotic expression. The perpetuation of the Black woman as the Ghetto Bitch, Ghetto Whore, and Ghetto Freak is not reflective of the vast and overwhelming majority of Black women. The perpetuation of the Black man as the barely literate, one-dimensional bull is offensive and steeped in sick prejudices that are not reflective of the vast majority of African American males as well.

The quality, or lack thereof, of Black or Ebony adult material available is horrific. Internet sites tend to list ebony or interracial content as “fetish” as if there is something freakish or abnormal about Black sexuality that sets it apart from the norm. The videos available are as low budget as one can possibly get; the actors and actresses are usually taken from the most disenfranchised and marginalized portion of the population, the sets appear to be nothing more than housing project residences with an HD camera and a tripod purchased from Best Buy. Similarly, Black oriented magazines seem to produce a fair amount of income from recycling images from 1975 with production costs that range around $.04 per poorly printed copy.

The word nigger is a racial epithet, not an aphrodisiac. There needs to be an immediate cease and desist of the use of the word Nigger (or any pronunciation thereof) in adult films/websites. That word should not ever be used in connotation to sexual arousal. When used in that context, it becomes the sexual trigger for people of other races and they then associate that word with Black sexuality and their arousal. It’s unacceptable convince anyone that it's erotic or sensual to throw that vile, offensive word around during sex to fulfill or perpetuate their racist/slave/Mandingo/dark continent fantasies.

Intentional and concerted effort needs to be made to show African Americans in a more favorable and well-rounded light. Black people are capable of more than interracial couplings and Freak Fest Ghetto Extravaganzas. Black adult stars are rarely ever featured together, implying that Black people are only arousing when paired with white people. All black adult entertainment usually panders to the lowest common denominator, virtually excluding those individuals that might be seeking adult entertainment that does not originate from housing projects or Black Bike Week.

Using economically disenfranchised African Americans as tools for adult entertainment is standard fare for the industry. The very nature of the practice is racist and offensive. It leave people of other races with the false impression that Black people are all on welfare, all victims of gunshots, and only capable of the most vanilla and mundane sex acts perform while drunk on malt liquor. It leaves the "actors" themselves with a false sense of identity by promoting the concept that all they are capable of is sex in exchange for money. Most importantly, it is not entertaining or arousing for the vast majority of African Americans that exist outside of that reality. It is offensive to suggest that showing such a miniscule portion of the Black community in an adult light is the source for arousal for all of us.

African Americans that come from all walks of life and aesthetic expression should be represented in tasteful, erotic scenarios. Black women can be beautiful and sexy with natural hair yet they seem to be dangerously missing from the adult industry. Showing image after image solely of African American female buttocks simply serves to objectify and dehumanize the subjects. Apparently, lighter complexioned African American men are not considered attractive or sexual because their presence in the adult industry is minimal which only serves to reinforce the “Mandingo, cotton-picking, big-dicked-Negro-as-Buck” stereotype. That negatively defines Black manhood as being equivalent to skin tone and penis size.

I find it disheartening that it's almost 2010 and I, a reasonably intelligent, sensual mature Black woman, can't find one single erotic film/video that speaks to me. It's sad that my female peers feel the need to deny their sexuality because we have no concept of what it is to have erotica that isn't raunchy and degrading, because we have no erotic outlet other than books. I'm prepared to take the industry by storm, create material for us, by us, that speaks to us and appeals to all races. I create erotica that arouses men and women, both black and white. I write stories that show our complexity and sensuality that aren't whitewashed, colorless tales but rather I write about our issues in our language and that isn't a coon/minstrel show that makes us look like buffoons. People of African descent deserve adult material that is light years ahead of what's available to us now. "Well, the adult industry isn't going to change. We have to make our own." I hear that all the time from the legions of people who share my frustration. Unfortunately, the white power structure has to sign on, someone has to open the door in order for us to get our foot in or else we will be spinning our wheels in futility.

Copyright 2009 Scottie Lowe

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Nigga What?

We embrace calling ourselves niggers, like that’s empowering, when in actuality, it’s disrespectful to our ancestors and just plain ignorant. To believe yourself to be a nigger, to behave like you are an ignorant sub human (the true implied meaning of the word) has no benefit or value. Defending the use of the word, trying to rationalize that it has been changed into something positive is insanity. Nine times out of ten, the usage of the word is meant to be disparaging and degrading, EXACTLY the way white people intended it to be used, and on the tenth time, it’s an empty a sign of self-hatred masquerading itself as a term of endearment.

White people expect us to behave like niggers, so calling ourselves that, ESPECIALLY in front of them, does nothing but reinforce to them that we are inferior. To carry yourself like royalty, to walk with dignity, to boldly declare that you are not only equal to but better than white people with your speech, your actions, and your intellect is FAR more threatening to white people than calling yourself a nigga. Want proof? Write a blog calling yourself a nigga and talking about cars, drugs, guns, rap, sex, sports, and how much you love living in the ghetto. You won’t get a private response or two from white people. Well that’s not entirely true. You might get a response or two asking you to fulfill their sexual fantasies. Then, write a blog, grammatically correct and spell checked, that talks about the greatness of black people, our strength, and our ability to excel despite racism, oppression, and bigotry. Write about how our true history of greatness has been distorted with white lies and deception. Discuss, academically articulated with footnoted and documented proof, advanced African civilizations and how white people re-wrote history to make themselves appear superior. White people will crawl out of the woodworks to tell you that Black people are ignorant and that you are nothing but a nigger.

You have to ask yourself, what would you rather be called, what benefit do you get from calling yourself a nigga? If calling yourself that makes you feel connected to other black people, consider yourself a slave on the plantation. If you do nothing else this year, decide to stop using the N word to describe yourself, to describe other black people you want to look down on, or as some sort of synonym supposedly meaning Black person. It’s negative, unenlightened, and stupid.

Copyright 2009 AfroerotiK All Rights Reserved

Interracial Relationships and Afrocentric Leadership

I think one of the great failures of African centered thinkers, a group to whom I used to staunchly belong, is the fact that they are tied to the belief that white people are somehow genetically, inherently predisposed to be oppressors. They somehow believe that only Blacks can transcend the fallacy of white supremacy, they falsely believe that whites are incapable of relinquishing their power and privilege. In the history of the world, the fallacy of white supremacy has only existed for the past 2000 or less. The Creator of All, the I Am that I AM, created all human beings as equals. White people, just as African people have the ability to realize the falsehood, lies, and distortions of the past two millennia are nothing more than illusions separating us from the consciousness of love to which we are supposed to vibrate. IF and only if two people can come together, respecting and honoring their differing histories, cultures, norms, perspectives, and share the same goals of eradicating the fallacy of white supremacy, then and only then does color not matter in terms of love. I do NOT believe most African centered scholars who have married white people have done so with partners who have transcended, I do not believe most let go of their mental enslavement that deems white people inherently superior. That doesn’t mean that Black scholars can’t contribute to our revolution. We are ALL, everyone, still enslaved to some degree. Rather than pointing the finger of indignation, we need to embrace that we all still have miles and miles to go before we reach the mountaintop. There are those in the African centered community who will tell me my contributions are invalid because I am open to loving another woman or that I don’t denounce homosexuality. Rather than worry about whom someone loves, we should concern ourselves with our collective scholarship and accomplishment and how we can find commonality to unite in our objectives.

I have had the most exceptional opportunity to meet two white people who are passionate about eradicating the fallacy of white supremacy. I was suspicious; I was filled with hate, rage, and distrust. I learned quickly that my inability to accept them for the true warriors that they are, was my flaw, not theirs. Their motives were pure and they were tackling challenges I never thought white people capable of until I expanded my consciousness and understood a more universal, more enlightened view of the beauty of all of us, not just people of African descent, being created in the image and likeness of The One Most High. Not every white person has attained such enlightenment. In fact, most haven’t even come close. I think we do ourselves a disservice by shutting the door on white people who want to help our cause and encouraging them to pick up armor and fight the valiant fight among their peers. What I don’t think we need to do is pick up their battles. I don’t think we need to help them educate and enlighten their racist peers. I think our energies should be focused on healing our pathologies and ourselves and if they want to help, embrace them, encourage them, invite them to see us in situations where we are behaving in empowered, enlightened ways.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Promiscuous Girl

There’s a HORRIBLE song, musically that is, that touts the virtues of being a promiscuous woman. We, as women of color, have been socialized to fall on either ends of the very limited spectrum. We either think of ourselves as freaks, a derogatory term that has become synonymous with Black women who believe their value is in their big asses. The rest of us think that any sexuality beyond heterosexuality union with our prince charming is bad and we live our lives trying to force men into that role or denying out sexuality and any expression other than the most conservative of behaviors.

Just a couple of years ago, I thought going to a swing club was quite possibly one of the nastiest things I could do. I turned up my nose at it and judged anyone who would go. I couldn't wrap my head around the concept that anyone that would have sex in public was worthy of my respect. Until I experienced a swing club myself. My first experience, I went with a friend who was going through some deep shit and she was going to go with or without me and I decided to go with her in order to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. We walked around and asked a lot of questions mostly but one couple invited us to watch them have sex in a private room. It was better than any porno I've ever seen because they were mad about each other and they were having sex for US. It was like having my own action figures that I could move and position any way I wanted. While the young lady was getting fucked, I was whispering in her ear. She held my hand when she came. That's a moment I won't ever forget. I went to several more swing clubs after that and found that even though I didn't have sex or participate, I enjoyed the experience I shared with people who were willing to share their experiences with me. I had two friends I would go with on a semi regular basis and we would "play" together. Did that make me a promiscuous freak? No. Are there women who go to swing clubs who are promiscuous freaks? Yes, by all means, but just because one engages in sexual expression doesn't define them.

It wasn't until I went to an all Black swing club that I allowed myself to experience group activity. It was so beautiful, so sensual, so natural, so erotic . . . I loved every second of the experience. There was something so spiritual about the entire thing. My friend was going down on me, making me cum like mad, and I was my usual very vocal self. A crowd gathered around to watch and I turned my head and kissed this guy who was lying next to me who happened to be fucking another sista at the time. It was mind-blowing. Before I knew what was happening, there were total strangers, men and women, lined up to give me pleasure.

Did that experience make me a promiscuous freak? NOT AT ALL. I have no regrets whatsoever. It was amazing. If I had two lovers whom I cared about, and my libido was resurrected, I would probably welcome the possibility of double penetration. I had a threesome with a two friends once, a man and a woman, and it was one of the most sensual experiences of my life. There was no jealousy, no hang-ups, it was three peers coming together to experience a level of intimacy that no words can describe.

Judge the person, not the act. It is not beyond my comprehension that a woman would be able to enjoy the act of being fucked in the pussy and asshole at the same time and NOT be a ho. Unfortunately, most women aren't sexually liberated, no matter how promiscuous or celibate they are. How the men who engage in the act perceive it afterwards has a lot to do with the maturity of the individuals beforehand and it has very little to do with the woman herself.

Copyright 2006 Scottie Lowe

Only in Rio

Black men are going to Brazil in droves to experience uninhibited sex with the women there. To hear them tell the tale, the women there are BEAUTIFUL, putting us lowly American Black women to shame. To all the men who feel the need to travel to Brazil for "sex vacations," let me say to you, that if you find women with African features and brown skin so repulsive, women who look like your mother and sisters, aunts, and daughters, take your happy ass right on the fuck to Brazil and live there. If the only women you find attractive are biracial/mulatto European looking women, then I would invite you to pack your bags and move to Rio immediately.

This trend, for brothas to go to Brazil in search of sex with multiple mulatto, transsexual, underaged hookers, and MOVE there is yet another glaring example of how Black men are emotionally immature and piss poor partners in relationships because their priorities are fucked. It’s extraordinarily superficial and shallow to want women to use as sexual objects and to control. And you can best believe that they are doing more than having sex, there’s scat, bestiality, pedophilia and any perverse thing you can imagine going on in Brazil. Who, besides me, is going to identify the pathology of black men who are so emotionally immature as to want women to shit and piss on and fuck like dogs, or be fucked by dogs and consider that heaven as opposed to forming a relationship with a woman who is going to be supportive and work towards building a family and future together?

Black men who go to Brazil state that the women there “never question your judgment or threaten your authority.” Isn’t that their same argument about white women? Real men aren’t that insecure. What authority can you have if you need to pay women to sleep with you? How sound is your judgment if you can't see the beauty of the women who have sacrificed, loved, and supported you your entire life and you opt for women who only want your money? Men don’t expect unconditional acceptance, it's little boys need unconditional approval no matter how foul their behavior is. Us dumbass Black women are trying to be meet the impossible standards of these damaged men in order to find a partner when we need to be saying, “AWWWW hell no, you don't meet my standards.”

Copyright 2006 Scottie Lowe