So, here's the thing... all of us have this little slice of badass inside- even if we have managed to keep it locked down tight. I have always (always) been referred to as 'nice', 'sweet', 'good hearted', and even 'gentle'. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing in the world wrong with those terms. As a matter of fact, there are probably many an asshole who would love nothing more than to not be referred to as an asshole- but rather, one of those terms instead. But there are points in my life when I just want to rebel in my badass-ness rather than to be referred to as sweet, good hearted or gentle (insert vomiting Emoji). Recently while watching Bad Moms Christmas, 'I am a Motherf*ucker' played in the back ground as the girls were revving up energy to no longer be held captive by their moms demands, their restrictive life rules, or by other's expectations. And I felt my badass self rise up. I even later googled the song -just to hear it again. And... as you can guess, I felt my bada$$ motherf*uck'n self rise up! For the briefest of moments, my old badass-self memories rose to the surface, and I remembered that I indeed did know how to be sexy, how to feel sexy, and what it was like to have the confidence and pissed-off-ed-ness to kick weak intentioned men to the curb (and to leave them crying tears of misfortune over the mere loss of me). Damn... I felt, touched, tasted, and even rejoiced in the truth that I am a Motherf*uck'n Woman! And... the next moment, I found myself coming up for air as I was drowning in Jelena. Did Selena really get her heart shattered by JB- or did Bieber get his heart ripped into a thousand shreds when Selena said, 'No more' and made her romance with the Weeknd public [and what the frick is up with his funk-ass hair anyway (insert eye rolling Emoji)]? And... the biggest AND of all... what am I doing surfing through the on-again-off-again love affair of Jelena?! How the hell did I go from 'I am a Motherf*cker' to Jelena in a matter of minutes? Minutes, mind you, that I cannot (ever) get back. I blame it on that sweet, good hearted, gentle spirit that is mine- even when I would rather camp out under the Motherf*uck'n Woman stars. Somewhere deep within me, even if I have managed to keep it locked down tight, I am a romantic at heart and I cheer on the broken and lonely hearted of this world. And in truth, I may just be able to be counted among them. Even though Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber are far beneath my generation (in terms of years) I still root for that first love to fight... and to win, in the end. And yes, I know JB went on to get his ass married to HB- but as they say, 'It ain't over till the fat lady sings' (which, by the way, means a person should not assume the outcome of a situation until it reaches its end, because the circumstances can change- credit knowyourphrase.com). So, Hailey best be hold'n onto her man so that he doesn't have a change of heart and go cry'n like a little Bieber back to Selena (Ima just say'n). I do feel this is a good moment to admit the truth, as some of you out there just might be pondering the answer I might give... and the answer is 'yes'. Yes, I have had momentary lapses of maturity and wondered what it would be like to have Bieber rock my world [hello... have you seen his Calvin Klein add (insert popping eyes Emoji followed by over-heated Emoji)]. I am a Motherf*uck'n woman, after all! But all it takes is looking back at his baby years... and I realize he is just a child. Albeit a child with a rock'n bod and badass tats (insert fanning Emoji).
Ladies... bring your eyes and your hormones back to me (insert laughing crying Emoji). This is not a blog post about Justin Bieber (moment of silence inserted for those now leaving this blog post). This is a blog post about being a motherf*ck'n woman by your own right. I am a tried and true believer that many of us keep our bad-ass self under wraps, so to speak. We want to feel this surge of badass energy yet not scare off those in our life who might not find it 'pleasing'- if you will. You know... women are to be seen, not heard. Women are to act proper- always. Women are to not conform to the world but instead shine like rubies, be agreeable, and not act up and shit. To be clear, I am a believer and have made no secret of that. I believe that God created me to be beautiful, compassionate, good hearted, and to not offer myself (or pics of my naked body) up to the world for free. I am filled with integrity (damn it!). But... and I can only be brutally honest here, I also am sexy. I am fierce. I can be a real wild cat with the right man. And- I don't have to be ashamed of that because God also created me with a full dose of passion, and sex appeal, and pounce-ability [if you can't guess what pounce-ability refers to... you might not be mature enough to be reading this blog post (insert blushing Emoji)]. His best for me is to not hide all the parts of what make me, well... me. If I only allow myself to be sweet, good hearted and gentle- that leaves no room for me to be sexy, fierce and a wild cat in the sac. Just a quick detour... some time ago I had a dream that I met a man who I had this crazy, once in a lifetime attraction to, and when we kissed in the dream, our teeth clanked (which, in case you don't know, was God showing me that this was not- not- the man for me). This played out later in real life some months down the road, and the very first time I kissed this new man that I was really attracted to... our teeth clanked. And I chose to keep seeing him, which turned out to be a huge kick in my own ass later. The reason for this detour, is that last night I had a dream that I met this man I was wildly attracted to, and we finally... finally, get to kiss. And guess what? When he kissed me, his tongue felt slimy. I didn't enjoy the kiss- and, even while kissing him, I was trying to convince myself that I could just teach him to kiss better. [For any man who has been given the opportunity to kiss me in real life, I apologize if you kissing me fell before my years of being told I am one hell of a good kisser. Maybe I just needed more practice... or maybe you were just a guy who knocked teeth or had a slimy tongue (insert shrugging Emoji)]. The reason I share this dream, is that I believe a lot of real life can play out in our dreams. God is clearly, once again, showing me that possibly the next man I meet- the man I might feel this crazy attraction to, is more likely than not, going to have a slimy tongue and not be a very good kisser. And... I will have the chance given to me to say 'Thanks, but no thanks' knowing that if I continue onward I will be once again kicking my own self in the ass when he turns out to be a dead-end-dude. And who wants that?! So- whether I am sweet, good hearted and gentle when we meet- or I am sexy, fierce and a wild cat... if his tongue feels slimy, I will take that to mean that the fat lady has sang. Done and done! I will then shake the dust from the bottoms of my feet and move the hell on.
Speaking of brutal honesty, I should not have mentioned that Calvin Klein add (smh!). Is that what they refer to as Bieber Fever?! Hehe... oh how heavy a load to be made of flesh (insert bewildered Emoji realizing... and accepting, it is a mere human). If you were sitting with me in my living room right now, you might just find yourself cracking up with me. I never know what God is going to put on my heart or in my spirit when I sit down to write, and low and behold, it's Justin Bieber. Ugh... the agony (not!). Now might be a really great time to admit out loud to any one who happens to have followed along this far, that it has been 2 years, 9 months, 26 days since my last kiss (1030 days... or 33 months, 26 days). I will say it for you... WTF?! Low and behold, you can survive without physical intimacy. Sure, 2 years, 9 months, and 26 days ago I had no inkling of an idea that I had just kissed my last kiss for a couple of calendars (sounds really bad when it gets put like that) but as they say, 'thats life'. For the record, I don't give it out for free anymore. I value who I am as a person, a woman, and as a believer. I deserve more today than I believed I deserved all those years ago. I want to meet a great guy... to feel heated attraction... to get a rush of hella chemistry- but I am willing to wait for it. I am not going to give it away to the next guy who gets my panties in a wad [sorry, I couldn't help myself (insert laughing crying Emoji)]. Especially if he has a slimy tongue! So what happens in the mean time while my calendar keeps adding up the days... and I keep noticing time slipping by while I remain single, a table for one? I embrace the Motherf*ck'n woman that I am, that's what. When I do meet the right guy (and I do believe there is a right guy out there) I want to be the best version of me that I can be. I want him to be clear, crystal clear, that I can be sweet, good hearted, gentle... and that I can also be sexy, fierce, and a real wild cat. I don't want him to question if I can handle him- I want him to question if he will be able to handle me. All of me. Every part- whether I keep it well hidden or on full display. I want him to sit back, wipe the sweat from his brow, and utter, 'That woman is a Motherf*cker!'. And sista, you should too (insert winking Emoji).