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Your Pussy Ain’t Worth NOTHING!

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Image courtesy of flickr

If you think your pussy is the most valuable piece of yourself you have to offer, then I guess your stock is down. 

The area of anatomy determining my sex is not the only “gift” I have to give to anyone. Period. What happened to intellect? Thoughtfulness? Essence of Self? It’s irritating to keep hearing over and over, “Close your legs, Black woman. Stop giving the one sacred thing you have away to every man.” Last time I looked in the mirror, I saw more than just my vaginal area. If we really want to go there, what actual part of our female, sexual anatomy is the most “valuable?” Is it the actual vaginal canal, the  labia, the uterus, or just the whole vaginal mound? I mean, really, we need specifics about these things if it’s the sole piece of us that has any sanctity. And, let’s not even get into the details of the word ‘thing’ in reference the objectification of a woman’s body parts.

Oh, and as a side note, sex is part of a romantic relationship. Every partnership may not last long enough to get to the act of sex (assuming the paring wasn’t purely based on sex), but that doesn’t mean there isn’t sexuality and sensuality involved. Are we not supposed to “give” that away either? I guess that means, no kissing, no flirting and absolutely no reciprocity when it comes to romantic affection.

Lets get to the real point here: there is more to a woman than the “sanctity” of what’s between her legs. She’s got much, MUCH more to offer than just that. And actually, it’s probably the least valuable part of her. What about her affection? Her quality time? Her smarts? Her opinions? Her wit and charm? Her beliefs? Her self-esteem, self-worth and Self? What about the encouragement she gives? Her depth and capacity to love? And, her depth and capacity to love you? All of these amazing and priceless facets of her Self (and not her physical self) are within her to give away, and to display on a daily basis to any person she chooses. And it’s all of these qualities and more that make her noble. Irreplaceable. Worthy. Valuable. But I guess it’s just easier for you to depreciate, diminish and downsize her into a single, visible denominator of the “thing” that makes her the woman that she is.

Pretty cheap stock, if you ask me.

Fuck. The. Frail. Shit.

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I am so tired, peeved, done and OVER the “woe is Black women, I’m so sad for them; they can’t get married because they’re evil, emasculating sapphires and Black men are either in jail or on the down low” movement that is getting play in mainstream media [ and, as a sidebar, I could’ve/should’ve put hyphens in that quoted text, but I didn’t wanna, so suck it].

Just because I didn’t get spoken for in an arranged marriage at age 16 doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with me. Or, with her. Or, with her. Or, with her. Can Black women get a leg-up? Maybe we should ask permission to excel in our careers before we get married. Can we get past that first college-to-real life transition [there go those hyphens], first? And, God-forbid, can we want to pay down some debt or own property before we get married? If it ain’t a dowry, it ain’t what’s poppin’, I guess!

Stop trying to tell me what I’m doing wrong. And, stop telling me Black men ain’t no good. Honestly, I want a stellar career, amazing girlfriends, a dope downtown condo, a car that purrs before I jump the broom. And it’s attainable, because, honey, I can do BAD BITCH STATUS all by myself.

Thank you, and good morning.

GREATNESS: FLO-JO

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Who DIDN’T wanna be Florence Griffith-Joyner when they were little? I know I did. She was gorgeous, talented, in shape, and rocked pro nails. She ate McDonald’s and won silver medals. She stopped eating McDonald’s and won Olympic Gold with the help of her husband Al Griffith, a man who cared for her so much, the the story makes you believe in Black Love again. She had a sassy and flashy fashion sense, evidenced in her love of metallic bodysuits and affinity for long, colorful nails.

Flo Jo Dolls on Ebay

She was graceful, powerful and intuitive. An undeniable talent, running faster than the wind with a lush, wild mane trailing behind her. Stallion indeed.

Read the love story here.

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