Friday, March 14, 2014

Was It My Personality or my P*ssy


For years I have joked with my friend that I am going to send a survey monkey link to my old joints to pinpoint exactly where I went wrong. I am all about feedback and believe it's necessary for people to grow. I've never had the "what was wrong with me convo" with anyone I took serious because I always left them. But I was still the one hurt because they seemed to not take me seriously back when things were active. So now as I reflect… I realize… I have nothing to reflect on. So the main question that arises...

 Was it my personality or my pussy?

 One of the two has to be the reason. But which one? And don't look at this post all crazy. You wonder what about you is so horrible he doesn't want to stay. You ask your homegirls, who of course have nothing for you because they are in "he ain't shit … your two steps under Jesus amazing" mode, trying to boost your esteem and your ego up. They are your friends and at this point you can do no wrong. But you can't help letting your mind wander  in the dead of the night, when you're listening to that playlist that has all your bitter songs like Melanie Fiona "It Kills Me", Neyo "Let Go" and Deborah Cox "We Can't be Friends" (Mine is Called Waiting to Exhale... Don't act like you don't have one), you question your personality. You question if you’re boring. You question if you’re not smart enough. You question were you not caring enough. Your whole existence is put into question! I don’t know a woman who has ever felt any hurt has not uttered the question… “What is wrong with me?”
 

Now, some of you may say no. I know I am a good person. I have lots of friends and acquaintances, and I know I am a big ass ball of positivity. Fuck him, cause it was NOT my personality. That brings us to the second part of the question… Was it my pussy?  Every female, no matter how bad, how flexible, how yanking, has doubted her kootie kat. Missy Elliott ain't make " Pussycat" for you to be fake. We are all family here. I have had men say they “can't control” themselves around me, or that I have the elusive "badu box" (they’ll say anything so I take that with a grain of salt). I can recall every time a man underestimated my skills and the shocked look on his face. Again, don't be fake like you don't smile (or screenshot) every time you get a text that says "I didn't expect that". However, when you are sitting there completely single, remembering the good times when you were quasi-single (shout out to twitter for the new term), and wondering what about you wasn't enough to make him stay, your undercarriage is always put into question. You say, "He ain't shit, he trifling, he immature, he blah blah blah..." But deep (or not so deep) in the back of your mind, you start to wonder if your love triangle is to blame. When you see someone with their “amazing” relationship (that’s in quotes cause you know on IG everyone has a perfection filter on *cues Drake ‘Cameras’…*) and you are wondering (with the lowest of keys), how she got that man? Does she have the Cirque du Soleil vagina? Is Harry Potter trying to figure out her magic? You think fairy dust is spewing out of her love cave.  Maybe she is missing a gag reflex… you assume her pussy is on a pedestal that yours doesn’t have the strength to even attempt to climb. There are reasons why video vixens like Melyssa Ford and Erica Mena can have sex books on the national best sellers list. People (mainly woman) want to know if there is some integral sex thing they are missing and everyone knows but them and are too afraid to ask.  You lose faith in pleasure tunnel.
Lady, artist behind "Yankin" song... She got a man doe....
 
Now, this is a very rare occasion on here. I actually have the answer to this problem. Yes girl! I’m shocked too.  Ready for it? Ok…

Don’t take anything personally.

The Second of “The Four Agreements”  by Don Miguel Ruiz that changed my life slowly but surely.

Do.

Not.

Take.

Anything.

Personally.
Quick explanation of the Second Agreement:
"Whatever happens around you, don’t take it personally… Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves. All people live in their own dream, in their own mind; they are in a completely different world from the one we live in. When we take something personally, we make the assumption that they know what is in our world, and we try to impose our world on their world.
Even when a situation seems so personal, even if others insult you directly, it has nothing to do with you. What they say, what they do, and the opinions they give are according to the agreements they have in their own minds…Taking things personally makes you easy prey for these predators, the black magicians. They can hook you easily with one little opinion and feed you whatever poison they want, and because you take it personally, you eat it up…

But if you do not take it personally, you are immune in the middle of hell. Immunity in the middle of hell is the gift of this agreement"

Sounds so simple, yet so difficult… but necessary. We have no clue what really goes on in the minds of men. Shit, I’m not sure THEY know. You could be so nice that Mother Teresa would look like the Grinch next to you, or Jesus would rethink his celibacy because He knows what lies in your nether regions, but if the person you like/love isn’t ready… then you still going to be binge watching House of Cards in bed with a Seamless order for one. Nothing about YOU is going to make THEM ready.  That’s mental, not malicious. (Actually, some of it is malicious… those men are scum)

And, I am not saying you are perfect… don’t get excited mamita. I am saying stop worrying about what’s wrong with you based off of someone else. If you are going to change, do it because of how you feel about yourself. Live being the best you FOR you, and eventually, God willing, someone will be ready to live that reality with you. That’s probably not the “answer” you wanted but that’s what you’re getting.  You’re Welcome.

And a fun fact- I literally giggled the whole time trying to find different words to supplement pussy.