I’m Sexy and I Know it…Right? 6 Things Sexual Self-Confidence Is (and 5 Things it Isn’t)

Abiola Abram’s posted a piece on sexual self-esteem the other day on MommyNoire that made me realize how many poor examples of sexual self-confidence women have bought into.  There comes a time in every woman’s life where she becomes comfortable in her sexuality, and even furthermore proud of it.  Mine came in my early twenties, but I believe that’s partially because of my work as a sexual educator.  When you’re the condom lady and adolescents have asked you about everything from double penetration to “running red lights” there isn’t too much that makes you squirm.  I started to see sexuality as a normal part of human development, something that we should be talking about to people of all ages, but in an age-appropriate way. We are born with all of the parts needed to feel sexual pleasure and that’s nothing to be ashamed of as long as we pursue that pleasure in a healthy, respectful and legal way.

When women are sent mixed messages about sex, we begin to base our sexual self-confidence on the expectations of others more than how we feel about ourselves.  So often women are made to feel one of two extremes for enjoying or owning their sexuality: We’re whores or someone’s object to be assigned with whatever agenda they see fit.  Sexual confidence doesn’t have to be displayed on a billboard (although I am blogging about mine, but I digress) but it’s about being secure in your sexual self without hurting yourself or anyone else and fearing judgment.  It’s about you loving yourself sexually, and not waiting for someone else to.

Before we get started, allow me to warn you.  It’s going to get a little XXX in this piece.  I’m going to be talking about my own sexuality in great detail with the intention of edu-taining.  This may intrigue some of you, but it may terrify the rest of you.  Some of you may not ever be able to look at me the same after #1, but I’m happy to let my skeletons crip walk out the closet if it saves you all from creating your own.

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14 Ways to Instantly Be a Little Classier

A friend said to me the other day, “I don’t wear tight or revealing clothing because I have too much self-respect.”  What’s funny though were the images I had of her grinding into some guys crotch and slapping her ass as she looked back at him basically fucking her with her clothes on the other night as they danced to French Montana’s “Freaks”.  The thing many women fail to understand about having class lately, is that it’s a lifestyle.  It’s not something you can say you have only when it’s convenient.  It’s reflected in every word you say, interaction you have and every decision you make.  It’s why I will fuck with a woman with her titties hanging out her tank top who holds the door for the old lady, over the woman in the three piece suit turning her nose up at the young mom who is feeding her family with food stamps.

It’s funny because my mom reminds me of the mom on Everybody Hates Chris.  She was the ghetto snob who would beat our asses for sleeping on mattresses without sheets, didn’t like plastic pitchers in her refrigerator or her daughters coming outside with rollers in their hair.  But more so than those things, what I learned about class from my mother is more than how to keep a household.  It was about speaking to people when you walked in a room, excusing yourself when you’re interrupting a conversation, bringing something whether it be chips or a case of sodas when you’re invited to party.  Class isn’t a label that makes you sophisticated because you said so, it’s all about the way you carry yourself.

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How to Tell If It’s Jail Talk or Real Talk

Source: AtlantaBlackStar.com

 For some women, there’s something about an operator asking “Will you accept the charges?” and one minute warnings that somehow get them feeling all flushed and feverish. I won’t pass judgment; there are plenty of good people who do bad things and just because some of them end up on The First 48, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have people who love and support them.

My confusion lies in the fact that there are men who are walking around educated, employed, without warrants for their arrest and most of them would never be able to pull as many loyal, devoted women as a man who has nothing to his name but a cell that makes the bathrooms at Wawa look like the Four Seasons.

Women will put their whole tax return on a man’s books just to hold it down, never stopping to remember that this man calls them more now that’s he’s locked up than he ever did when he was a free man.  Don’t be manipulated: There’s jail talk and then there’s real talk. Prison brings out the creativity in a man.  When a man is locked up all he can do is think of fairy tale life he has waiting for him after he serves his sentence.  Some men legitimately want to turn their lives around and do right by the women remaining faithful to them. Others are looking to manipulate any connection they have to the outside world to make those days pass a little bit faster and themselves feel a little less guilty.  Are you being sold a dream?  Here are 8 ways to tell:

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Why Do Black People Love Louis Vuitton So Much?

Source: NoWayGirl.com

My fashion mantra is that you can make anything look great with enough style and confidence.  I love mixing edgy pieces with leather, silver accents, monochromes and pops of color.  I’ll shop anywhere from H&M to Topshop.  I don’t obsess over how much things cost; I like what I like and if I can afford it it’s joining my fashion family.  But then there are women who are self-proclaimed label whores.  These women think if you spend enough money, you can’t help but look great because Michael Kors and Hermes said so.  During my past trip to Toronto I became convinced that this is a myth.  My friend and I needed to kill some time before our bus left and we ended up in a department store called Hudson’s Bay which reminded me of a Canadian Macy’s.  Soon we were surrounded by tortoise-shell, ostrich feathers and heavy, colorful, costume jewelry that was so expensive it ended up looking cheap.  It made me a strong believer in the idea that the more money you make the more faulty your fashion choices become.

It reminds me of something I’ve always failed to understand: Black women’s obsession with Louis Vuitton.  Do black people really like Louis Vuitton and thinks it’s stylish or do we just jump on the trend bandwagon of whatever designer the next hottest rapper name drops in an anthem?  Women will set up a savings account to stack some money to one day afford an authentic monogrammed Louis Vuitton bag, like, “Fuck a college fund.  That Speedy is giving me life.”  But what baffles me beyond belief is that they all end up looking the same.  Furthermore, if you compare them to any monogrammed Coach bag, Michael Kors bag, shit even Guess all of those bitches look alike too.  I often find myself purposely looking for purses that you haven’t seen anywhere.  I want you to look at my bag and be like, “That’s a cute ass bag, but damn I wonder where she got it from.”

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A Guide to Being a Completely Over Confident Canadian Tourist

Every time I plan a successful vacation where no one gets lost, arrested and whelp people actually have fun, there’s an inner travel agent in me that swells with pride.  This time I took it a step further and decided to venture out of the country.  OK, I was on the same continent visiting a place that doesn’t even stamp the passport that 10 years ago you didn’t need to enter, but I survived a 10 hour bus ride sitting upright in between two couples, got detained at customs, nearly assaulted by a gang of Haitian men and still had an awesome ass time.

Before I begin, let’s just make this clear:  I did not travel to Toronto JUST to see Drake, but he was a major influence behind my travel plans.  Before his references to the Skydome and his Started From the Bottom video which could easily serve as a Toronto tourism commercial all I knew about Canada was universal healthcare, Niagara Falls and Degrassi.  I left wanting to change my area code.  Unlike my favorite city NYC, where “making it” is being able to afford a one-bedroom apartment and eat a meal that doesn’t come with a flavor packet, Toronto was somewhere I actually could picture myself living and thriving,  My crush on a 6 foot, Jewish child-actor turned rapper brought me to Toronto, but my love for the city could have easily kept me there.

In the meantime, if you’re looking to visit, here are some tips that we’ll keep you from looking like a lost, helpless idiot who is unable to do currency conversions in your head:

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One Reason My Summer Was Fucking Epic: OVO Fest 2013

I try not to use the word “epic” too sparingly.  Ok, maybe I’ve used it to describe everything from the season finale of Pretty Little Liars to the Coffee Toffee Cupcake at Crumbs, but this time it actually applies. You may recall a little piece I wrote last summer entitled “Six Reasons My Summer Kind of Sucked” in which I ranted about all the things that went wrong that summer including two missed opportunities to see an artist that inspires me greatly,  Drake (one where he was literally down the street from my house) as well as being told I didn’t have enough flesh on my ears to tolerate an industrial bar piercing.  The summer of 2012 just wasn’t my summer. But something happened in 2013.  Things kind of came full circle.  First I actually invested enough thought and energy into this blog to be able to confidently write a follow-up to last summer’s series of unfortunate events and I finally did it…I finally snagged tickets to this year’s OVO Fest, Drake’s annual summer concert in his hometown of Toronto.

Before I come off as an obsessed stan, let me give you a little background.  I know a lot of fans claim to to have been Team  Drizzy from day one.  I don’t know when that day was but I do recall the first moment I heard a Drake track and thought to myself, “I fucking love this dude.”  I was riding the 25 bus to my job as a manager for Dairy Queen one summer.  I was staring out the window at Frankford Ave. after walking almost 30 minutes to a bus stop in the 90 degree heat and thinking, “This can’t be life.”  At the time I think I had some kind of off brand MP3 player that my parents got me for Christmas because they refused to buy me an IPod when a low budget brand could do the same thing.  I had downloaded a bunch of Drake tracks the night before.  I was into him previously because I was Degrassi fan.  He started to get sexy around whatever season it was just before he got in that wheelchair and was fucking around with scandalous ass Ashley.  Anywayz, there’s this one episode where he’s rapping on stage and Ashley is all jealous because he’s getting more play than she is.  I was like, “Damn this dude is talented.  I mean it’s Degrassi but I could bump this shit if I had a car.” So anyway, here I am on the 25 bus hating my life of soft serve Blizzards and methhead customers and that’s when I heard “Closer”. Besides the fact that the whole track was amazing, there’s this line where he says:

I promise momma Imma do it

Cuz I know I put u through it

And I just want u to sit around

With your friends at the dinner table

And say my baby famous and I

kneeewww it

I don’t know what it was about that line, but at that moment I decided I couldn’t settle anymore for this slingling ice cream shit; I needed to be so much more and furthermore I could be so much more.  How often do we talk about what we want to do just to find ourselves making excuses and folding at the first sign of insult and injury?  I don’t know how many years ago that was but in that time I got a Professional Writing undergrad degree, got an actual professional job that actually gives me all kinds of fancy adult things like paid time off and healthcare benefits and I’ve been slowly and steadily building a writing career for myself and making some decent freelance money.  I guess one of the reasons Drake’s rags to riches story makes me so emotional is because I feel like we kind of grew together.  Granted he’s way more financially stable than I am, but my mom can sit around at table with her friends and say, “My baby’s successful and I knew it.”

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