I read a blog this morning that reminded me of the blessings in my life. What I’m truly grateful for is everything, from the close relationships with my family to even the hassles at work. I know eventually those headaches will lead me to the path I’m meant for. And with me along the way, there’s that special someone in my corner. That is also a beautiful blessing.



She’ll buy her own I don’t think she’ll never look
In a man face standing waiting for him to take care of her
She’ll rather go to work and pay the bills on schedule
Independent, Webbie, Lil Phat and Lil Boosie

webbieboosie.bmpThis morning, “Tangy” calls me at work, one of my best girlfriends who isn’t a girl, if you know what I mean. We’re chitchatting about nothing, as we always do, and the subject comes to relationships. The thing we’re discussing is about having a man and being the little wife. Of course, in his case, since he’s more effeminate, his man would have to be the masculine partner, and Tangy would be the little wifey.

Or so I thought. Tangy immediately objected that domestic role, saying, “Uh uh, we would share the household duties. It’s gonna be fifty-fifty.”
I say, “Okay, so what if your man expects you to do these things, like cleaning house and making dinner? You wouldn’t feel obligated?”

“No,” he said, like it was an abomination that I even asked.

I guess when it comes down to it, I’m pretty domestic myself. It comes from a lifetime of seeing my mother serve my father dinner, although he does do his share of the cooking. It’s a role that comes from having an old-school mother and father team, one where dad may wash a few dishes, but doing laundry is simply out of the question.

I adopt this role, as the femme of a lesbian partnership with Lebron, but sometimes it conflicts with me. I do relish taking care of my stud, because it’s something I enjoy. I love to cook (and she loves for me to whip up a pan of baked chicken).  Lebron does her part, as well, as I owe most of my furniture assembly and computer repair to her.

So I’m singing Independent in my car on the way home, and I found some small part of me that thinks I’m that woman, too. Two jobs, work hard, you a bad broad…well, maybe not the two jobs part. It sometimes conflicts, because you’re your own person, but being in a relationship means you have to compromise and find your role.Until Lebron, I always thought of myself as independent, not leaning on a girlfriend for much and really not expecting much either. My single girlfriends and I were–still are–educated, sistahs with good jobs and taking care of ourselves without too much help. We were knew that we were catches, but we knew having the right man or woman was icing on the cake in our lives and didn’t want to settle for just anyone.

We were, simply put, divas. Even Lebron felt that way when she first met me, but to her chagrin, it was the thing that attracted her — that I had my own mind.

It’s still that way for me, but I realize now that I don’t have to be so “hard.” I can let my guard down some, and let myself be loved. I can be independent and submissive, finding some satisfaction in the balance of both aspects.