(Not) Being afraid to open my mouf

For several years I started trying to write an introduction for my book, "U gone hear my Mouth" that described what this book was going to be about. And I always tried breaking it all down into relevant topics so the chapters could capture my stories in an organized way. I liked the idea of being able to go in a lateral or linear fashion. But life just is not that way. That is not the way my narrative goes. Because the truth is, many issues that helped me evolve as a woman were those that made me face failures, disappointments, rejections and events meant to silence me, shame me and judge me. And I thought nobody cared about that.

My story is not the typical get rich or happily ever after cuz I found love or hit the lottery story. My story is about what feminization of poverty, criminalization of Black women and abstracting people to silence them is all about. Because these conditions made me a modern day Warrior. My story involves the purpose of oppression, deprivation and objectification. Silencing people. Shutting them up and shaming us into silence. My story tells on people purposely bringing me down so no one would hear my voice and eventually silencing me to tears. Bringing me to my knees. Breaking my heart because they thought I had no recourse to oppose them.

My story is about people who must accept their lot, and oppressors fabricating broad narratives to tell the masses how hopeless, unproductive and worthless we are. How angry we are. How unreliable and unstable we are while nearly everyone is living with instability, uncertainty and lazy unreliable people operating in their lives, in some way. Not just Black women, poor women, or Black people like "us".

When I say “us” that may not include you. But treating women in the way that I have just described has an affect when you are a woman. Especially if you are a Black woman. Because you have either been oppressed or have learned to become an oppressor, by the way the oppressor has treated, empowered or ignored you. 

It's had an adverse effect on me, when I think about how foul many Black women have treated me, when I was poor. When I was an employee. When I was young and beautiful.When I was a good mother and wife. When I was a Christian. When my mother died. Most recently Black women from other countries, who I seem to have the most encounters with these days. Black women who are some of the most hedonistic, yet hateful women I have met throughout my lifetime. Their foul behavior only showed how fabulous I was and would continue to become. They tried to stop me from being fabulous. And I told those bitches to kick bricks.

A couple of years ago, I went to a therapist to fulfill some course hours for a hands-on Counseling course, to learn Interviewing skills for professionals in family and marriage counseling. I went to maybe four free sessions to fulfill this requirement. On the last day of these sessions I had a personal breakthrough with my therapist. I did not expect it to happen. I first thought I should dread the revelation. But I must say, the sessions of course had to do with the profession, what I thought about it and why I wanted to go through five more years of school to complete the studies. I wanted to help, advocate for and create counseling and safe spaces for Black women and other single-parent families needing to leave abusive relationships.

This therapist was really good. He was a big White man, with a heavy French accent. I had therapists before, but never a white man. Not since the early 90s. But he was a wonderful person who honed in on something I truly had to take a few years to understand about myself. That is where my story starts, and what this book is mostly about. How, I, a strong Black woman found her guilded voice, to find the healing of the Goddess within. Because, it took this last session with this fabulous French therapist, and another 4 years for me to understand that I hate Black women. That is how I found my voice. 

It was not enough to hate racists, racism, white oppressors, poverty, and injustice. I had to learn the purpose of oppression from my own people, women. Black women. People I truly loved and wanted to make this world a better place for. And I learned that home truly is where the hate is. This reactive hate became my guide. This hate I felt, is where I found deep-seated truths that were shocking to me. Uncomfortable and emotional residencies I like to call them. So many encounters with hate in a public society. 

I felt traces of it wherever I lived, wherever I moved to, whenever I tried to make friends, volunteer my time or be a decent neighbor. Amongst all the people I met, I found reasons to hate Black women. And I had to accept that shit. As much as I thought this could not be true.

So reading a little deeper into my story, I just want you to know my hate healed me. My hate taught me many things I never expected to learn. Hate made me face issues I should have dealt with correctly, a long time ago, when I first denied these feelings. When I was told that I shouldn’t hate people, or speak so negatively when I refused to listen to people spewing their bullshit. Especially when I heard people say I was playing the victim. And the truth is I was victimized. Because the truth was I was silenced by a whole lotta miserable Black women who refused to hear my voice.

When I was taught, basically bullied into not trusting my own feelings, because I should not hate people--to close my mouth, I started closing and hardening my heart.  I abbreviated my own thoughts and turned off my intuition, so I did not have to remember how I felt. Then, being feminist, becoming confused about being a proud advocate for domestic violence victims, and all the women I wanted to protect. I questioned whether I could help change their harms and injustices to healing any more than I have. Well I started to think those days were over. Nobody cared about feminism that I knew much less what I did or said.

Yet it also is said that people will feel toward you the same way that you feel about yourself. So this confusion about loving or hating Black women, led to realizing that hating women was a result of being judged, labeled and presumed to be less than the goddess I truly was. Being shamed and unduly criticized by my own racial peers. Not only by some white oppressor. By Black women. They were the worst friends, colleagues and people in honored positions I ever knew during my adulthood.

Hate became my guide in this new social climate. Hate became the compass leading me into womanhood. Not only was it my guide, but my only living relative after my mother died, in my family. Hate became my sister when I realized most of the sisterhood I thought existed for good women like me, was really a given for hateful assed women of privilege among Black folks, who really hated being considered: Black. Women who wanted to be seen as some other color or nationality, and appreciated by whites more than their own race because of some misconception that there wasn’t enough room for all of us.

Yet hate made me breakthrough. Hate made me stand up for myself and tell that “sister” or “qween” gatekeeper, that I belonged there. Hate was a feeling that helped me find a sisterhood, after having to live through nearly three decades without prominent Black women supporting me. Hate made me fully understand the many roles, relationships and principles I valued. I passionately fought anyone I had to fight, and shut down any opposed I faced with rage, yes even though I hated it sometimes. But I got through it. And learned to love me. All the time. No matter what those bitches said.

Now I embrace the fire and rage that fueled my art, my words and my willingness to love. Because it made me beautiful. It made me love again. It made me find my voice. And I will never be silent AGAIN.

So I want you to know that love may be the answer, but hate may be the alternate route to finding your Goddess. U gone hear my mouth is gonna be about finding your guilded voice. Because YOUR VOICE is worth your weight in Gold, and money in the bank. 

I encourage you all to hear this one woman singing: 

“I am woman, I am fearless, I'm Divine...!”

 Listen to the words; Add it your playlist and raise your powerful voice!

Luv to U & Me,

Ms. BBB 😘