The New [Old] Standard.

Guess what? Your way of Love just isn't cutting it.

Be More.

Cop Sho Baraka's newest album, Lions & Liars.

Photo Editing Attempt

love24, originally uploaded by iamspokenword.

"24" is concerning the journey of my 24th year on earth.

How I Feel.

"...He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world."

-1 John 4:4

I am a mere silhouette. A vessel for greatness.

192 hours.

For the past 8 days, loving him has been like enduring open heart surgery without anesthesia. Metaphorically speaking, of course.  All of my theories and convictions about love are undergoing great scrutiny, and sometimes I can't tell my heart from my head. On a brighter note, they are finally starting to come to an agreement: Love is a gorgeous mess.

For the past 3 years (almost), I've been one of three corners in a technical love triangle of friendlationship. (Yes, friendlationship is friendship + relationship. Hear that, Webster?) Infidelity was avoided, but I still ended up being the victim of betrayal. Ultimately, my desire was to keep this out of the blogworld until time created a healthy amount of distance between the confession and the pain that ensued. However, my words provide me healing. Hopefully, it will give my readers the same benefit.

If you read between the lines of my love and I's story, then you will see annotations of another significant bond in his life. This bond, while purposeful in its valuing of genuine friendship, carried the weight of the "What If". Granted, it was incapable of stunting the progression of passion between my love and I. Nonetheless, the fantasy of potential was fed, subtly...until the moment it was strong enough to take on a life of its own. This significant moment fell parallel with the season we took a breather from The Title, mind you. I think the instant I knew that I loved someone who had questionable feelings for someone else, I realized that it would always be the three of us. The night I held his confession letter, I was escorted back to that night I saw him holding her from the reflection of my darkened computer screen. It felt like deja-vu, almost. Although I didn't understand why my heart felt heavy that night so long ago, the rush of past connecting with the present gave me clarity. And it only took me a second to track through every conversation, each moment I quieted the sickening feeling in my gut, and every instance I forced myself to trust him.

My love and I are well on our way to recovery and reconciliation. However, my interaction with the third corner is in a peculiar place. I know most would say that reaching out to her is unnecessary, but my heart beckoned me to. She is peculiar to me, because I'm told that she places only a feather's weight on what happened. Therefore, my attempts to reconcile seem to come off annoying and juvenile....and she is well within her rights to ignore me and my heart. Although it pains me, I will shake the metaphorical dust off of my feet and try to repair and rebuild. I am allergic to dysfunction, but I will not run from it. I'll choose, instead, to war with it.

My love is actively working to gain my trust back. As with the third corner, she sees no point in responding to my extension of forgiveness. No worries, though. I have her scent; matched with a keen sense of smell.

**Update (March 22, 2010): I've talked to the third corner and from our conversation, I've gained closure about her.

Speak. {Part 1}

For most of my childhood, I thought that my voice was either insignificant or incompetent. I grew up as a soft-spoken soul in the midst of a loud family who needed to shout to get their point across. My peers and I, in grade school, held the belief that the people who talked the loudest/most were heard/reverenced more. I was neither. However, my silence gave me maneuvering abilities. I was able to observe without being noticed, and I witnessed many truths and life lessons. I literally learned through the mistakes of others, and that gave me a bit of wisdom that most teenagers did not have. In a way, it made it easier to stay out of trouble, because I was close enough to see where some paths lead. Superiors and mentors in my life began to take notice. And suddenly, I became an "ideal" teenager; with a clean lifestyle and wisdom, conjointly. Through my silence/docile nature, I had finally been given a voice.


Somewhere around my 21st birthday, I became more and more vocal. Confident in spiritual matters because I'd been groomed to be the leader. The fault-less standard of holiness that others could look up to. The one who not only lived above reproach, but made sure she told everyone else how they should straighten up. I became less afraid of speaking up; and caring less about the consequences. It was liberating, truly. Considering that I was forced to keep silent; be seen and never heard, I took most opportunities to open my heart and mouth and use it as a method to teach and educate others.

My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment. Even so, the tongue is a little member and boasts great things.   --James 3:1,5

 The moment I was given a voice, I also accepted the tendency to be judgmental and haughty. I assumed that I'd been given a gift of oversight to correct others. I was, unknowingly, using a vehicle of condemnation; calling it a gift of teaching. Meanwhile, I myself struggled with correction, and was more condemning to my own heart than anyone else. "This is the way that it has to be, right?" "People won't change unless you give them hard truth and pierce through their emotions!" I think this passage in James says that those who wish to teach must have a clearer sense of grace, empathy, and humility than those they teach. Teachers will be examined more thoroughly, because of the responsibility attached to carry truth to others. If the teachers misuse their role, then people may not receive truth.

Let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger because the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. -- James 1:19-20

Likes & Dislikes

Likes

• Ihop's International Free Pancake Day
• Naps
• Candid pictures that capture emotion
• Doggy bags from restaurants
• eBay
• Struggling to stop laughing
• Cult films that represent Black culture (e.g. Coming to America, Black Dynamite)
• Learning something new about him
• Feeling the peace of God immediately change my attitude
• A good quote

Dislikes

• Feeling rushed
• People who constantly take but never try to give
• Seeing a sweet kid shyly smile at you and then the frustrated mother snatch him away
• Getting up extra early to finish homework
• Crying from frustration
• Pushy, ungrateful people
• That one person that usually messes up the chill vibe in a room
• Double standards
• Going too long without reading my Bible

For Michael. [Rememberance]

 11 years and still I feel aching. 

Not a sorrowful aching, though. I don't wish for you to leave Paradise to reacquaint yourself to mortal flesh; taking back on its limits and sometimes repugnant tendencies. 

Keep your wings. 

Spread them, fan the Glory of Heaven closer to where we are. Where we wait, in anticipation. The Lord has been faithful to mend the wounds caused by the suddenness of your goodbye. And He will keep our hearts steady. Everyday. Especially today.

I miss you. 

Michael Bradley Jeter

August 1, 1979 - February 22, 1999

Food Lion+Ingles+Kroger = My Rodeo Drive.

Everytime my mother calls, she'll ask the same question:"You got enough food in your fridge? You getting enough to eat?" Lately, I find myself fussing over my boyfriend more and more when he tells me that he hasn't eaten all day. The first thing I do when I travel back home to my parents' house (after resting my bags in my old room) is look in the refrigerator. And not necessarily because I'm hungry, but it somehow helps me guage how well my parents are doing financially.

I'm starting to notice a trend...

I connect a sense of well-being with the amount of food I have direct access to.

I am not proud to admit this...but the last month and a half of the past fall semester, I stole food from the dining hall on campus. Because of the campus dining plan I chose, I could only visit the dining hall 5 times a week. Plus, I had ABSOLUTELY NO MONEY. Granted, I had shelter, hot water, electricity, and a warm bed. Thankfully, I didn't owe my university any money. But the miniature fridge tucked underneath my bed had a jar of applesauce and a couple bottles of water in it. Life, momentarily, sucked. However, it's strange to me that the moment I received a bit of money, the first thing I thought of to buy was food. I was elated that I could go to the grocery store and get groceries to last me a whole month instead of a pair of cute boots...or skinny jeans from American Eagle. And whenever my fridge was stocked to capacity, with a overloaded bin of snacks sitting next to it, I could care less that the bottoms of my AE ballet flats are starting to wear thin, or that my jeans are outdated. Or that I can fit my entire wardrobe in one suitcase, even.
 
In the smallest amount feasible, I understand what it's like to not know where you're next meal is coming from. But there are people in other countries, children especially, who go days...weeks without food. Americans see economic status based on the types/quality of clothes a person wears, but true poverty is found within a man. Also, there are almost 13000 McDonald's running in America, with 2000 more than open every year. Americans are the most unhealthy, wasteful people as a group. 25% of the food Americans eat is thrown away.

We think that being blessed is what we drive, wear, and possess. Christians, even, think sometimes that what Jesus meant in John 10:10 equates to material possessions. Granted, He never clarifies, but I'm sure it wasn't physical wealth. There are many people in this world, on a daily basis, that go without basic needs.  We should be content (which is not the same as settling) with what we have.

There is no greater satisfaction than a full stomach.



*Dedicated to broke college students.

Wants & Needs

Wants

• skinny jeans & an external hard drive....still
• more money
• an amazing photo shoot with the best friend
• to know who my real friends are
• a vacation

Needs

• skinny jeans
• more discipline with the money I have
• intentionally make mental pictures of quiet moments with the best friend
• treat everyone with respect and dignity, whether they deserve it or not
• more moments to rest my mind

How I Feel.

In the immortal words of Shug Avery:

"Ooo, Miss Celie...I feels like sanging!"

Learn The Lesson.

"Life is a long lesson in humility." -- James Matthew Barrie

We live in the age of the Hater, where we place emphasis on having victory over odds and others. From birth, we are taught to pursue what we want in life, and that the most important opinion is our own. The toughest heart is girded to hold to the belief that you can only count on yourself. You are all you have. Even religious-minded people hold similar thoughts: "Trust no man, only God." " Only God can judge me."  Circumstances, which are meant to chip away the hardness of our hearts, only add to the boulder on our shoulders. Overall, it's puzzling to me why we end up choosing to grasp tighter to ourselves, instead of letting go. Is it that we think we'll end up losing ourselves at the end of it all? But that's impossible.

We are who we are.

When God created us, He didn't just mold our outer shells. He also placed an inner nature deep inside. That, which is "in His image". But, as the story goes, we believed a lie and took on another, false nature. True love is self-sacrificing, but we are taught that love is indicative on how a person makes us feel. We weren't created to deny our feelings, or be led by them. Yet, God knew that a passionate heart, tainted by a sinful nature would equal disaster. Which is why we, as human beings, are in a constant, ever-abounding need of an ego check.

All of us. From Hitler to Mother Theresa.

Our society desires to keep us occupied on the dissension that lies between us, instead of the real battle that's going on. I'm not downplaying hurt, rejection, or any of the other forms of heartache that one can endure in a lifetime. However, we are taught that the remedy is to increase your self-love. That if you'd simply love yourself more, it will help you make sense of all you've been through. But, that is incomplete.

It's amazing the point of reference you have when you take the stance of a servant.

Love's Day. (A Letter)

Dear Everyone,

You are Loved. Always have been, and always will be. 

Celebrate, on this, your day.

Love,

God

Friends, Acquaintances, and Other Folk.

I've had an especially fierce burden on my shoulders for my friends recently. Most of them are involved in a wide array of circumstances, and I've actually been able to slow down enough to watch their turmoil unfold before me in a slow-motion fashion. I remember having significant moments like that in high school, and I'm sure it means the same as it does now:

God is intentionally pointing something out to me. To learn from and to pray for. In these moments, God tends to teach me about the ways of people. Certain people, at times, but usually its a general lesson about humanity. I'm broken by the sabotage we allow to go on in our relationships with others. It's natural to have dysfunction...because we're humans. But it's almost as if we have this itch for utter destruction to happen ever so often. People have become indispensable, and we don't value others enough to look past our own needs.

You see it everyday, divorces happen. Childhood friends fall out of sync. Family members hold life-long grudges that affect generations. And we'll choose, instead, to hold onto this immaterial pain that makes our hearts more feeble and colder. Or worse, we'll fill our lives with numerous shallow, unproductive acquaintances...and think that it will fill the place that God reserved for those that will add to our existence. Vulnerably speaking, I wish not to surround myself with drones of people who aren't looking out for my benefit. Those who won't help me stay true to my standards, convictions, ...myself.

Life is too short to try and go at this thing all alone. And I'd rather have two or three in my corner than a crowd of people spectating in the stands.

Figure out who your real friends are. And treat them that way.

Interlude: Re-Introducing.

Brittney S.

Age 24

In pursuit of a more intimate walk with my Lord.

Explicitly Black.

Graciously Woman.

I write. everything.

Presently being equipped to go back & save our children.

Heart of gold that beats outside of my chest.
Lives for the stage but deaf to applause.
Secretly building "my castle made for two"...


Hello.

Grown, Part 4: Hips.

I had every intention of remaining a virgin until my wedding night. Not only because it aligned with my morals, but because it was a dream of mine to save my body for the man that pledges his life, heart, and hand to me in the sacred covenant of marriage. I never really understood why most people (or girls, specifically) treated their sexuality with such thoughtlessness & disrespect. (My wish here is not to be judgmental, by the way.) I had friends who believed that being "free" sexually equated being irresponsible. It wasn't until I'd entered into my first serious relationship when my standards were tested. I never even considered "going all the way" until I fell in love. 

And even though I was full of upright principles, sound Biblical evidence, and a proper upbringing, I still made subtle choices that led me to a series of bad decisions. Regrettably, I am not the young girl I was, on one hand. However, I am a grown woman who still muses over an old dream: to be a precious gift to my future husband. And to be pure in the eyes of God; forgiven and clothed with priceless Grace.

The matriarchs in my family used to be able to tell that a young woman had started to have sex because her hips would start to spread. I'm not sure how accurate that is, but it served as a proper metaphor concerning growing up:

Adult activity matures the infantile body.

God will begin to prepare the expecting mother for birth through all of the changes her body goes through in those 9 months. He is aware that giving birth is the most daunting, necessary task a human body can endure. An important part of this bodily transformation is how the hips spread (which happens in the first stage of childbirth, actually). It's all necessary, but too much if God has not already prepared the body. 

We live in a culture where 11 and 12 year old girls have the bodies of grown women. Wide, voluptuous shapes that confirm that our children are growing up too fast. And when these girls become expectant mothers, it is more likely that the generation to come will be "pre-mature" & impatient in their thinking, maybe because they themselves were birthed by  the premature. But we must have hope. Hope that God will still fulfill His promises & plan for every life.

I have hope. Despite my own premature entrance into the world, I still have opportunity to birth something great. These hips were created to birth greatness. I need only to be patient while God continues to prepare His vessel.
...I am grown, after all.

Interlude: Wants & Needs

wants

• A $100 to blow @ Forever 21
• A dope new hairstyle
• Skinny jeans 
• A new notebook
• One really good photo shoot
• Car (transitioning into a "need")
• More time on stage performing poetry
  

needs

• $ for the pending apartment
• My apartment to no longer be "pending"
• The focus/girth to completely fill the notebooks I have
• My computer to be fixed
• Emotional fortitude
• A summer/fall job
• Clarity with the avenue to expose a hidden talent
  

Grown, Part 3: Hair.

To paraphrase scripture: "A woman's hair is her shining glory."


I remember, as a little girl, the harsh, trying feat of my mother doing my hair. Most of the time, I did not like it. The whole process caused tears and plenty of "ow! ma!" 's coming from my lips. I was affectionately labeled "tender headed", because one comb stroke convulsed my limbs more than a seizure would. Usually, I didn't like the end result either. My bangs were too curly. Or my ponytails were too tight.

But the older members of my family raved about how cute I looked. I pouted as they pinched my cheeks, but something makes more sense to me now than it did back then....

My mother was shaping my glory.

One thing I appreciate about being a Black Woman is that hair-care is a form of intimacy. Mother to child. Sister to sister. Woman to man. Other cultures won't quite understand why this can be a sensitive act between two people. My cousin recently put micro-braids in my hair, and it was a nurturing, bonding experience. She was doing more than "hooking me up". She was tending to my glory.

[I am, in no way, trying to disregard the recent anthem of India.Arie. Women ARE more than their hair. However, there is something significant about the covering of a woman's head that shines brightly to the opposite sex. I've been told that it is one of the first things a man notices about a woman's apperance.]

When I was in middle school, I hated doing my hair. Transitioning through my ball-playing, tomboy phase, I rocked t-shirts and wore my hair back in a ponytail. I never brushed it. I seldom combed it. I washed it to keep it from itching, but I could have cared less what my glory was becoming (or not becoming). It wasn't until I started to get it professionally done (at my mother's prompting) that I noticed a difference. I remember my stylist Keisha (who is still my go-to superwoman when I am back in my home state) spinning my chair around to face the big mirror...and asking me what I thought.

It was one of the first times in my adolescence that I'd felt beautiful without someone telling me so. I remember looking down for a moment in shame because I wasn't aware that I could be pleased with my appearance. But then I quickly looked back up, and smiled at my reflection. Keisha nodded and said something to the effect, "I guess that means you like it."

Sometimes we can be afraid of our own God-given glory. Granted, it is a glory that would be non-existent without Him, but it is ours none the less. Other times, we assume that we should possess a certain type of glory. But true glory is unique to its vessel; though it all comes from a singular Source.

I've spent too much of my life being afraid of me. Stifling the glory that so wishes to shine forth.
It is a battle, but I am searching. Digging for the depths of God's glory, and the glory He has destined to rest on my head. Flowing. Lovely. Gorgeous.

...after all, I am grown now.

For. Haiti.

If it affects one of us, it affects all of us.

How to Help

Soundtrack for a Revolution.

What Did I Do In 2009?

Inspired by N.Steven...

• Endured the WORST case of Senior-itis imaginable
• ...but still graduated from college; getting my Bachelor of Science degree in Psychology
• Went through my first full year since going natural (hair, that is)
• ...and I learned to cut my own bangs (Don't smirk, that's an accomplishment.)
• Completed my first year as a Resident Assistant...working on the second.
• Burned through over $450 on a birthday shopping spree over the course of a weekend
• [Speaking of birthdays] I turned 24
• Had a summer that consisted of writing, sleeping, and talking on the phone. Jealous?
• Cried on a consistant basis...
• ...because I fell deeper in Love with my best friend
• ...whom I was seperated from for 8 agonizing months...
• ...but we got back together; better and stronger than we were before. 
• Survived my first semester of graduate school (and with exceptional grades might I add)
• Messed up...had quite a few "almost's"...but still managed to drag my broken self back towards the Throne of Grace
• Went caroling for the first time
• Gained closure for all three of my previous relationships that ended in heartache...one of which, I took by force)
• Learned that God IS the God of Second Chances (and third, fourth, etc.)
• Dance sporatically with friends sitting in a parking lot
• Banned BET
• Stood in the cold rain for/during a home football game for 7 hours. Yeah...never doing THAT again.
• Had a grip of my family in VA with me at the same time (Yeah. Glorious Chaos...)
• Performed poetry (with the best friend) a few times; including in front of a crowd of about 75 people. 
• Bought almost 20 books...including Just Some Stuff I Wrote Down
• Raised a virtual child online
• Mourned the loss of a Legend
• Saw a couple great theatre plays & went to The Concert that changed my life
• Got lost in DC & NJ
• Was involved in a technical love triangle...and witnessed the woeful formation of another
• Got lost in beautiful, intimate moments
• "Chased" a homeless bum to give him some food
• Fell out of a moving car
• Acquired a serious love jones for Phonte Coleman of Little Brother/The Foreign Exchange
• Witnessed two of my closest girlfriends (one of which who swore she'd be a cat lady) fall in love
• Starred in my first Hawt Sawse video (Sure, you have no idea who I'm talking about...so watch it!)
• Stole food from my campus' cafeteria for 2 1/2 months straight
• Lost and found my necklace in over a foot of snow
• Watched my mom learn to walk again
• Acquired addictions to Bejeweled, Moe's Southern Hot Wings, and chocolate syrup :)

Grown, Part 2: Heart

I spent most of my "girl-hood" stuck in a perpetual state of playing house. Only brave enough to muse over my dreams and desires for love. As a girl, I never considered what I needed to become as those dreams and desires transitioned into reality. I wanted Love, and I thought that I would be in a state of life-long bliss and inner fulfillment once it arrived. That little girl forgot about the sort of heart needed in order to catch, keep, and cultivate Love.

Proverbs 4:23 Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.

As a girl in relationships, I gave my heart without question. I prematurely opened myself to the great ideal I worshiped. I caught a hint of potential and attempted to form it with my own tiny hands into what I thought I wanted. I was blind to the fact that what I needed was unlike anything I'd seen on TV or even in my own house. It was a craving for a unique Love that I knew well but was also estranged to. Once I realized that limited, earthly affection was never meant to fulfill that need, I was able to conclude what the heart (with all of its desires) was created for.

Imagine suffering such great disappointment on a consistent basis; serving as a reminder that you will never be loved like you desired. Looking all around for the source of True Love that didn't seem to want to be found. Suddenly, you look inside and notice that you had the Source all along. He was the Comforter that held you close as your heart broke for the thousandth time. He felt every sting of rejection and disapproval you've ever felt. He compassionately dried every tear, and waited patiently while suffering through the greatest Unrequited Love story that has ever taken place.

Christ waited for me to see that He is my Source, and that my heart was His home. I was to guard that dwelling place because giving it to those undeserving would be abandoning my First Love. Trading in gold for a clump of dirt. It isn't until the day that I exchange my heart with another that I can free my heart. And I have to keep preparing myself for that day, because it could be closer than I think.
I mean, I am grown after all....

Grown, Part 1: Head

My imagination can tend to run away from me at times. One iota of evidence, mixed with an already existing tendency towards distrust, can paint a clear picture prematurely. It wasn't until recently that I realized how this way of thinking was sabotaging my life. The wisest woman I know, my mother, used to always tell me, "Believe little of what you hear, and even less of what you see."

Little girls are led away by their pre-existing notions which are usually made concrete by prototypes of the past. It takes a grown woman to recognize that the more life you experience, the less typical life seems to be. I'm beginning to understand that. My defense mechanisms & victim mentality will only aid in keeping me trapped in a self-fulfilling prophecy that I will always stop short of fulfillment. In a constant cycle of disappointment, and with a strong inability to see joy in each breath and sunrise.

The inner corridors of my head are where this battle rages daily. But, I have become more victorious lately. There are far too many dreams and desires close enough within my grasp to continue to nurse wounds that have already scabbed over. After all, I am grown now.

Grown. [Intro]

24 years. 3 months. And 10 days.

......

Wants & Needs

Wants

• My computer fixed/External Hard Drive
  
• A real bomb pair of skinny jeans
• Bling :)
• Sharing the stage with Phonte of The Foreign Exchange
• Jill Scott concert tickets
• Attend a guest lecture from Nikki Giovanni/ or Maya Angelou
• Discovery of another indie music gem
  

Needs

• Peace concerning trouble getting pregnant with my future husband
• Grace to do it right this time
• Clarity & Direction for future plans
• To be hidden away in the arms of Christ
• More adventures with my best friend
  

How I Feel.

...Life is chaos. Be back soon...