By SheelaR

I’ve been struggling with the idea that I’m a modern woman. In comparison to my own mother, I am, but I’m not sure that I want to be. I have a career that I love and I don’t get caught in traditional things, such as cooking and cleaning, although…I do enjoy them. I like watching sports with the guys, doing outdoorsy type of things, and that whole mindset. I’m not into this whole feminist movement stuff. I’m not sure how it’s helped women, aside from a sexual revolution standpoint. In that case, it hasn’t helped us at all. Women in the workplace still make less than men and men still make the laws that govern our bodies.

These modern feminists look up to Beyoncé as their idol. Her affinity for sequined onesies and bending over on stage while shaking her bottom, is their idea of liberation. If that’s being liberated and modern, I’m behind the times. I define being a modern feminist as embracing all that is soft and beautiful as a woman, while enjoying a multitude of choices this world has made available to me as a free thinking autonomous woman; some of the choices available to men. Feminism has been relegated to the “how sexually free you are” category. I reject that, while making a point of saying…I enjoy copious amounts of sex, but not in a way that makes me too “liberated.”

As a modern woman, I totally appreciate a man who doesn’t have a problem cooking, cleaning, and doling out back and foot rubs. This old-fashioned modern woman, loves that I can seem to have it all without sacrificing all the things that make me a feminine woman, but not a feminist. I like old-fashion love and dating. I like it when a man opens the door for me and kisses me on my forehead when I need it most. As a modern woman, I enjoy the idea a making him a warm meal after a long hard day and running him a bath. As modern woman, I still want to give him babies, and breastfeed them while gazing over at him reading a newspaper.

As a modern woman, I want to be sexy in my clothes but modest in my taste. I want to walk out of my front door with a face free of makeup and still feel at my most beautiful. I want to confidently rule the boardroom while maintaining a calm, soft, and assured demeanor. I want so many things as a unwilling modern woman, so I guess that makes me an old-fashion modern feminist.

By SheelaR

Poor little lass, a confused product of privilege. Raven is what is being termed “The New Black.” New Blacks want to exist under the assumption that their money and privilege makes them colorless in a world where you are almost certainly judged by color before anything else…especially, if you’re black. It is a sad and unfortunate truth and reality. Having said all that, I actually understand how she feels. I too hate being labeled. However, the reality is…we’re labeled from birth and it is an inescapable destiny. She has also said that she doesn’t want to be labeled as “gay,” despite the fact that she is currently in a lesbian relationship. She simply wants to be known as “a human that loves other humans.” Aren’t we all? Isn’t human a label? Now I’m confused. 

By SheelaR

I’ll be posting several years worth of Facebook and text messages soon. I think it’s important to finally rid myself of some blackness that has permeated the interior of my quiet life. I’m trying to decide what to post. Stay tuned!

By SheelaR

We seem to be living in a time where we’ve become acutely aware of and sensitive to most anything that makes us slightly uncomfortable. We’ve gone from being totally desensitized to quite possibly…overly sensitive. I’m going to go ahead and include myself in that statement, and here’s why…

I’ve had horrible cold since Saturday before last. My colds are the equivalent of double pneumonia with a shot of flu. I basically turn into a giant ball of coughing mucus, and I usually end up at the doctors office after unsuccessfully trying to fight it off naturally. So, today was the day for a much needed doctors visit. After I left the doctors office this afternoon, I headed to the pharmacy to fill a couple of prescriptions…cough medicine and birth control.Yes, one has nothing to do with the other. I just threw that in for effect 🙂

I drop off my prescriptions and make my way to the grocery store. I pull into a parking space, roll down my windows, and start a text conversation. As I’m doing that, the owner of a car to my left, walks up and proceeds to load his groceries into the front passenger seat of his car.*side-eye* He finishes, locks his car door, and then pushes parks his shopping cart a few feet away, which placed him directly in front of my car…and he simply leaves his shopping cart there, directly in front of my car

Now, I know that you know that I was sitting in my car. I’m hard to miss. I’m brightly colored with lots of hair, and my windows were rolled down. Not to mention, you looked over at me the two times you banged my car. Oddly enough, I was too preoccupied to care…but I noticed. What bothered me about your sudden and irritating appearance into my life, was not the fact that you parked your cart in front of my car, or that you banged my car, but the fact that you unapologetically banged my car…not once but twice.

In the short amount of time that it took you to do all of that, you managed to disrespect and offend me several times. I don’t know if your rudeness is a result of ineffective parenting or if you’re simply jaded by your many life experiences. Either way, you managed to make me feel a way that I’m not comfortable feeling, and I am kinda pissed about that.

You glared at me as if I’d done something to you. My only mistake was unknowingly parking next to you. I could be over-thinking this, but I’m comfortable saying that I am not. We are regressing as a society. We are angry, willfully ignorant, and outright rude. It seems like we’ve began a descent into hell, right here on earth.

I tried not to feel so affected by your behavior, but here I am thinking and writing about it. Wondering what was it about me, or more importantly, what is it about you that caused you to callously disregard me as a human being. You probably haven’t thought about me as much as I’ve thought about you. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Whatever the reason for your parking lot follies, I shall not let it keep me up tonight or give any more of my precious energy.y.

By SheelaR

I love his story…even though I don’t know much about it. However, I feel like I can relate.  It feels close to home, especially since I’m Brooklyn, N.Y. today.

http://www.irishcentral.com/news/A-black-Irishman-in-New-York-gets-the-Internet-buzzing.html

By SheelaR

Purely out of an intellectual interest, I joined a ‘Black & Poly – BDSM’ group on Facebook. I initially had no idea what being “black & poly or BDSM” entailed.  I didn’t even know that it was a lifestyle that  black people engaged in. It is almost unimaginable to me that anyone would be ok with engaging in such a lifestyle. I’m what I term “super monogamous.” I love the idea of mating for life with one man.  That might actually sound unreasonable to some, so I’ve joined vowing to keep an open mind. If you’re completely clueless as I was, see the links below:

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyamory

As soon as my request to join was approved, I quickly began scanning the page for information and posts of interest. I simply want to understand what makes them tick and how one (or three) functions within the confines of a polyamorous relationship. It seems that many, like myself, have lots of questions about the lifestyle; simply looking for a deeper understanding.

Although, much of what I’ve read has been interesting, a post about being  “poly and single” jumped out at me.  I though to myself…how does one become poly and single? That didn’t make sense. Poly and single simply means “Solo polyamory is a fluid category that covers a range of relationships, from the youthful “free agent” or recent divorcee who might want to “settle down” some day but for now wants to play the field with casual, brief, no-strings-attached connections, to the seasoned “solo poly” who has deeply committed, intimate, and lasting relationships with one or more people. Some solo polys have relationships that they consider emotionally primary, but not primary in a logistical, rank, or rules-based sense, and others don’t want the kinds of expectations and limitations that come with a primary romantic/sexual relationship.”

Sounds like a complicated lifestyle.

That’s all I have now. I shall return with more, as soon as I have greater understanding 🙂 I should also have more to add about the BDSM aspect of it. I’ve got so many questions!

By SheelaR

Things every mixed person will understand…

I am the product of an “African American” mother and “Irish American” father. It doesn’t make me unique, it simply makes me a riddle wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma… but only for some people. I’ve struggled with how to define myself, and I’ve settled on not doing it. My own father has struggled with how he sees me. He refuses to refer to me as “mixed” or “black.” I think that might have added to my early years of being racially confused. I don’t think he was prepared to raise a “mixed” child and deal with all the complexities involved in it. He’ often said that all he sees is “his sunshine.” In a world full of labels, he didn’t want to label his only child. He wanted me to grow up free of that. What a lovely idea… Unfortunately, we live in a world that is consumed with labeling or pigeonholing people.

My take… it is not your place or responsibility to define how I see myself. My very first encounter with ignorance occurred with my well-meaning Irish granny, who, at some point seemed confused by the idea of “mixed-race” people. My coloring was more or less of a mystery to her. She expected me to be darker, she honestly didn’t know any better… However, she would redeem herself by saying that I had the best of both worlds, which included my messy head of hair. She was and still is, the best granny ever.  She’s just a tad ignorant about all things related to “race.”

Life has been filled with moments where I’m explaining my existence to the curious. I’m generally not offended. I’ve always seen it as an opportunity to open some eyes. Unfortunately, not all those moments were good ones. Some people are highly offended at the very idea of “race mixing.” Some are willfully ignorant, asserting that I’m nothing more than a “black” girl, a half-breed, a mutt or and a host of other offensive terms.  That’s their own insecurity about who they are at work. Trying to relegate me to particular category makes them feel good about themselves.

Stop asking me what I am. I’m human first, start there. No, I’m not exotic. I am, however, midwestern born and raised. Nope, I have no Native American ancestry that would explain my hair and bone structure. However, you might find it interesting to know that my black grandfather, is the product of a black mother and an Italian father. There, more confusion for you.

And then there are those who think that I was raised in a trailer park. I have to say, that always elicits several giggles from me. I think I was raised by a single white-trash mother, who was abandoned by my black father. You don’t have all the answers. People of mixed race/ethnic heritages, have different upbringings, just like everyone else. We don’t all come from the same mixed bag of nuts.  Pun intended.

Us “mixed people” would also appreciate if you stopped asking us what we like to eat. It might surprise you to know this, but some of us will eat just about anything you plate. No lie. Although, I must say, I do love Italian food. It’s probably a big fat coincidence. My grandfather was raised like most “black” people of his generation, on “soul food.”

The next time you meet a “mixie,” just love and embrace us like you would any other. We are no different and would prefer to be known and appreciated beyond how we look or our ethnic affiliation. I feel no need to constantly define who or what I am. I’m just Sheelagh. That is all anyone needs to know.

By SheelaR

I’ve been struggling with my mood for the last few days. I’ve been feeling reflective, most days. I’m  also witnessing people I know and care about struggle with mundane life issues, and it seems to be taking a major toll on them.  Me, I’m struggling to sleep. It is having a profound effect on my mental sharpness, as well as other things.

My ability to write is suffering and that troubles me. It’s my outlet and therapy! I need an outlet for my emotions. I’m burning out, slowly but certainly. I’ve been straining to leave work related emotions and stuff at work. Leaving it all behind has been a big helper.

I love the creative soul in me, but when she’s stifled… my whole world stops revolving. Being creative helps me to maintain healthy relationships and softens my mood.

I’ve been consuming a cocktail of allergy medication, which the doctor thinks is adding to my insomnia. He gave me sleeping pills, but I’ve withstood the urge to take them. Nevertheless, I took one last night, and sleep still managed to escape me.

I’ve vowed to retire to bed early tonight, we’ll see how that goes. In lieu of sleeping pills, I’m going to have a lovely glass of wine or two. That will put me to sleep for sure 🙂