Saffron Soul. Violet Voices. @saffronsoulvioletvoices - Tumblr Blog

resurrected in the graveyard of his exes

RIP

the relationship you had just ended. now, the term relationship can be subjective. it could have been a situationship or something close, but for the purpose of this piece, it really may not make a difference.

at any rate, you have been banished to the graveyard of his exes. this space he cultivates. he puts out flowers on the grave markers, tends the grounds. knows how to recall each and every story of all of the exes buried there. he mourns and laments over the ending of each relationship, and will do the same over yours. with just as much fervor and fondness.

he only does it so he can raise you from the dead anytime he is bored. resuscitate you whenever he needs his ego stroked. when he is in between romances and needs relief or needs someone to pay him some attention. he knows that you will answer his calls, laugh at his jokes, suck his .di.....

you're too busy trying to prove to him why you deserve to be raised from the dead and given a new lease on life. why you deserve to be his main, why if he has you in his life, he won't need to go picking in the graveyard of his exes ever again.

the thing is, when the next one comes along, he will remove you from life support and lay you to rest again. and he will tell his new girl about all of those that lie in rest in the graveyard next to you. women who did not make it. women who he was in relationships with where the relationship "just ended" or where he and his ex "just faded away".

beware of the graveyard and those who appear to RIP. he keeps a lifeline linked to them so he can breathe life into them at will. and they will rise up, happy that he is willing to entertain them for the moment.

the thing is, you have to decide if you are willing to be laid to rest on this sacred burial ground. are you willing to be laid to rest in this place that he holds so special and taps into so often? because trust, he keeps tabs on these women, always looking to see what they are doing, where they are in life, and how they are living. and it's not necessarily because he particularly likes these women, it's merely to stroke his ego, because he knows they will when he has the need for an audience. each and every time.

are you okay with being this woman? the woman who answers his beckoned call. being okay with the label of "friends" just so you have a placeholder.

because that’s what you would be when the relationship runs its course. merely a placeholder and something to do. you will get dropped the moment his attention goes elsewhere. and no matter how many times you stand up, wave your hands in the air, call him, text him, comment on his posts, make yourself available to be of assistance, he still won't choose you.

the graveyard needs to stay full. It's the only way to stroke his ego. It has to stay full of women who do all of the above. is that you, Sis?

because if it's not, let him know. hold him accountable for his actions. let him know that there is no middle ground. he either steps up to be with you and be the man for you or he can go.that you won’t interchangeably define yourselves as “friends” when it ends or if you have a breakup because there is a true definition of friends. sometimes dating ends and true friendship develops and sometimes when it is over, you get your own grave dug in the cemetery of his exes. your very own headstone and he never forgets to lay out your favorite flowers and remember your fondly.

or, you could let him know that you will not be buried in the graveyard of his exes, an eternal purgatory while he plugs in to you and pumps you full of life and just as quickly takes it away when it suits him.

you are worth way more than that, sis. remember that.

Kisses,

~Tee

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Photo: ComputerWorld

#relationships #men and women #love #dating

the glow up

so I've never really made any apologies for who I am. what I did do was try and dial back my pretty. and I do understand that I dimmed my light for too damn long.

I had a habit of having people around me that didn't always feel the best about themselves, but they were drawn to me. I've a vibe type of person, always have been. so the way that I chose my friends had nothing to do with their outside and everything to do with who I believed them to be and who I saw them to be in the moment. and who I was in the moment.

my mother used to always tell me that although I had several friends that were true friends, there were several around that were actually jealous. I cringed at the thought. I felt so normal, so regular.

how on earth could someone be jealous of regular schmegular me?

her answer?

it's not the things you have, the tangible stuff. it's who you are and the fact that they look at you being you comfortably and they can't do the same. so they lurk trying to figure out the formula and when they can't the "friendship" blows up. my mother was ALWAYS right but I felt uncomfortable with that concept so I tucked that advisement and thought that maybe later, as an adult, it would make sense.

enter the woman I affectionately refer to as my fairy godmother. she of course tells me the same thing.

"why are you dialing back your pretty? use it."

I'm like.....seriously?

she says, "Uh, yeah," then goes on to expound on the fact that as a woman, as a dope ass woman, other people and their self esteem and sense of self worth, and lack thereof is not my problem. that I can be cute AND intelligent at the same damn time. that it is unfair to me to allow my light to dim and that I'm not doing the work fulfilling my purpose when I do.

I had to stop for a moment. think.

I told myself for years that I preferred the background, choosing to do things that kept me out of the spotlight. yet my entire life, people would tell me that it seemed like I belonged on stage. something wasn't adding up. and it was because I was dimming my light, hiding my pretty. not walking 100% in who I was designed to be.

then one day, I decided to be unapologetic about the way I lived my life. what if I turned my light all the way on? what if in doing so, I actually helped other women turn their light on? what if it started an entire movement and I made a difference somewhere to someone?

none of that would happen if I kept claiming to be regular schmegular, when I'm completely not.

none of that would happen if I kept hiding my pretty in favor of my intelligence instead of using both at 100%.

my mother was right. I should not have been uncomfortable with what she told me. I should have been uncomfortable with the girls that were around me that either were okay being mediocre or that felt a way being around me, because of their level of self esteem. I should have been more uncomfortable with those girls that senselessly compared themselves to me because their self esteem wasn't intact and so they would do their best to plant seeds of doubt in me so that I would stay on their level.

I'm not regular schmegular.

I'm dope as fuck and I'm magic.

period.

and I can be pretty and be intelligent equally and not have to make any apologies for any of it.

I can be both of those things simultaneously. it's okay to be in the limelight and I don't have to play the background to make anyone around me comfortable. see this post, it's not me bragging or being self centered or narcissistic.

this post is for all of the women dimming their light because the other people around them have self esteem issues or they are just plain miserable.

sis, I'm here to tell you that you can be pretty, beautiful inside out, intelligent, innovative, and inspirational and not apologize for it. it's not your fault that they don't feel about themselves the way you feel about yourself. leave them to get themselves together over there ------>

while you singlehandedly glow the hell up.

Photo by Chris Maher

Kisses

~Tee

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#self #motivation #inspiration #glow up #growth

no, honey, you can’t marry him in your head

so we’re gonna do this today. the truth, straight with no chaser. I’m here with this tough love because I needed it. and because I care and want you all to be great, I’m extending the same tough love to you. trust me, the process was hard. rough and emotional as fuck. but, in order to recognize the pattern of screwing up all my relationships, this moment of shadow work needed to be raw and uncut. here we go, mental marriage. don’t blank stare me, you know exactly what I mean. the shit we do when we meet a guy. slap him with the “potential” label, then run off and marry him in our head. imagine a future with said man. contemplate how the sex would be, how you’d cook him breffis in the mawnin’. all the mind fucking you did in the 2.2 seconds he walked into your space. yeah, that. mental marriage. you know good and well you’re married to a plethora of men in your head. real talk, I’ve been “married” to a man, in my head, for the last five years. we got kids and shit. live on an island eating passionfruit and guava all damn day. I get metaphorically “dicked down” just the way I like. but we’ve never slept together and I ain’t seen much but a dick print—shadow dick. sounds dumb as hell doesn’t? but that’s what we do. jump off a ledge and place dudes in a category. set up expectations for men who barely know our last name—don’t even know we exist. and he bet not like an instagram post! now, we go togeva. sounds cute chatting it up with the girls. kee-kee about all the freaky shit you’re never gonna do in real life because the fantasy never becomes reality. we wish upon a star and hope said dude reads our nonverbal cues: likes, emoji waves in messenger chats, “hey there” temperature checks via text, slick comments which look and sound like every other thirsty chick in the thread. delusional. let’s presume information is exchanged. conversations ensue and a first date manifests. if this dude ain’t all up on you or ask you about your entire life (only for you to play coy and deflect), send sexual innuendos, put his arm around you at some point, send you a “goodnight” text, and “good morning” text the next day, you throw him away. suddenly, he ain’t shit, never been shit, ain’t gone be shit. subscription canceled. a freaking tirade because he didn’t meet the expectations you designed in your head. the ones he never knew. didn’t hint he wanted to go that far with you. but you did. why? cause you don’t know how to date. no one told you every man who takes you out doesn’t necessarily want a relationship, nor does every man who pays you a compliment want to bend you back and buss it open. but I get it. the dudes you’ve experienced have mimicked those stereotypes. half of us ain’t never been with a good dude or had a genuine connection with a man who just loved our person. folks say men and women can’t be platonic and I call bullshit. flag on the play. the reason why folks say this is due to a lack of value. we stopped valuing each other. instead, we’re objects. folk who can “do something” for the othe—a benefactor. not a person who deserves to be treated as such. you marry men in your head because, deep down, you’re lonely as fuck and want a dude to save you. cringe when you see a dude playing captain save a ho because secretly, you want him to be your knight in shining armor. wish the glass slipper fit your foot. the fairytale ya mama, nana, auntie, or some antiquated teacher told you back in the day. society pushes the cinderella idea. make you think love is supposed to be magic and glitter all the time. hype you up to believe a man is gonna swoop you up and save you from your lonely ass. what they failed to mention is the only way a man can come and sweep you off your feet is if you’re halfway off the ground. you gotta be in your own ecstasy beau. in love with yo damn self, married to yo damn self. how a man gone come love on you and you out here pimping yourself out for the quick fix feel? and I know it’s hard to hear. I know you don’t want to admit it. I didn’t but I had to sit with it. sit with why I have empty conversations. text threads with no forward movement. vague ass invitations for company with me still waiting for a man to reply: “sure, we can hang.” the man you want will find you while you’re in motion, not living in your headspace with a random who ain’t gave you a second look. your #mcm is with the chick who’s emotionally available, not preoccupied with emotional bookmarks. that dude you married in your head, divorce him. he don’t want you. cause if he did, you wouldn’t be on a honeymoon with his shadow or living in inbox intimacy. stop wasting your energy. no, honey, you can’t marry homeboy in your head. but if you shoot your shot, show some actual interest, and clear your emotion cache; he may see you're interested and come to you. with love. Vee.

#relationships #dating #men and women #self love #saffron soul

men aren’t intimidated by you

newsflash.

men aren't intimidated by you.

boys are maybe, but not men.

problem is, way too many women are out here choosing boys and then blanketing their bad experiences and applying it to everyone of the male species. I'm going to let you know right now, before you read any further, if you are already in your feelings because of the title and the first few words, it will only get worse. so you can stop reading now and go ahead and click somewhere else to entertain yourself. because I'm going to go ahead and turn all the way up here.

when I was a teenager, my mother told me to never be intimidated by another human being, especially another woman who puts her bra on one strap at a time like I do. so I never grew up especially afraid of or intimidated by anyone. because I don't compare myself and my self esteem is intact. how could a woman who is successful be intimidating? isn’t success something positive, something to be revered? of course it is. but who wants to sit around and talk shop all day? no one. not even your friendgirls.

nowadays, memes rule the roost on social media and we have incarnates of Shazza Zulu (if you aren't of the A Different World generation, Google him) online spouting everything that women want to hear about relationships. coddling them and making them feel as though they are not responsible for their poor decision making.

newsflash.

men are not intimidated by you.

boys are. not men. and you, unfortunately, continue to choose boys. manchildren in adult bodies that look like they should be grown, but they aren't. not even close.

so when you throw around your degrees (which you should be proud of) and you lead with all of your accomplishments vs who you are as a person, boys are intimidated.

men are annoyed.

and here is where I tell you to kill that script that you've been running in your head that says that "good men don't exist". good men are getting married and booed up daily, just not to you and your attitude.

don't get me wrong. I understand what you've been through. I haven't always chosen correctly either. we all have to admit that we have faltered and stumbled when it comes to making decisions with love and relationships. dating is not easy. and it is down right difficult when your self esteem is either in the toilet or wrapped so tightly in the scroll of your degree that you haven't seen it in years. problem is, some of you talk loudly and boast your accomplishments because you want to deflect from the fact that you don’t know who you are. genuinely.

this is the part where it's time to truly figure that out. I mean, because who wants to wear the badge of honor that people are intimidated by them? and who wants to continue to wear that badge when it's a sack of lies?

men aren't intimidated by a woman that owns her own, that is successful, educated, knows what she wants in life, and that is accomplished. men are however annoyed by women who are overly mouthy and always have to have the last word, are aggressive, have no substance other their material things and accomplishments and accolades, and who don't have a nurturing bone in their body. men are annoyed by know-it-alls who aren't open to listening or receptive to being a team.

as a matter of fact, I'm not going to just put this on men. as I look at this list, I'm actually annoyed by those same characteristics. and I'm sure those things don't work for you in other areas and relationships in your life, or they may because you have chosen to surround yourself with passive people who allow you to continue to exist in your current state OR you may be the type that doesn't have a substantial group of genuine friends.

either way, the word is annoyed, NOT intimidated.

one of these memes out here lied to you. and social media will have you thinking that men are afraid to approach you.

truth? your energy is not inviting. the look on your face. your body language. it says it all when you enter a room. no man is going to give you the time of day, no matter how smart, pretty, or accomplished you are. he's just not going to work that hard. no one is really. they shouldn't have to. especially when you aren't going to accept the reality that you are not approachable. who is really going to sit and fight you on that?

and before you say it, before you go there, the other woman that he did give the time of day to- she wasn't easy and she was not a pushover. she was open and receptive and inviting. words and concepts that have somehow turned into negative connotations. but if you could be a smidge more inviting, you might get the date you want from a man that approaches you vs you having to seek out the man that you want.

but because the men don't want to give you the time of day or a second phone call, you continue to deal with boys and continue to perpetuate the rhetoric that men are intimidated by you.

one day you will stop talking and being aggressive enough to tell yourself the truth.

men, real men (and they do exist), they are annoyed by you.

the boys are intimidated.

and whether or not you want to acknowledge that, the truth ain't never lied.

Kisses

~Tee

Photo from Pride News Magazine and Can Stock Photo Inc

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#relationships #men #women #pride #intimacy #love #success #educated

‘grace’ is a victim. just not of assault

some of you may unfollow me. some of you may unfollow me and that’s ok because this needs to be said. there’s a lot of us out here who have the game fucked up. placed our energy in the wrong parts of the movement. there’s too much focus on correcting male behavior and not enough highlighting the strength of a woman’s voice. victims of rape, assault, and harassment exist. I know because some of them are my best friends, family, even myself. my concern: at what point do we transmute the label of “victim” into a position of power and courage? last year, auntie maxine told us to “reclaim our time.” this year, I’m here to encourage us, urge us, and demand we reclaim our power. the story of grace festers in me. it festers in me because I envision a young woman enamored by the celebrity of a regular ass fuckboy who violated her person. the geek who got money and figured he could fuck everything moving. grace is not a victim of assault; however, she is a victim of sexual coercion. in light of this, it’s important to note her situation—this particular situation—was avoidable. and let’s be clear before I get the victim blaming and shaming comments, the incident is not her fault. I do; however, want to distinguish between accountability and blame. by definition, these words are synonymous but there’s a distinction in the degree which is important to reference: blame assigns a fault or wrong accountability requires ownership am I blaming grace? absolutely not. she did nothing to invite the type of behavior ansari exhibited. no woman should be placed in a position of discomfort and made to feel as if she has to engage in unfavorable acts. however, I will hold grace accountable for not taking ownership of her voice. if you’re still with me, pull up a chair. before ansari put his nasty fuckboy hands and lips on her (and let’s be clear he’s definitely a fuckboy), there were several instances during the night where she could’ve taken her ass home. the white wine at his apartment, which wasn’t her preference, but drank anyway. how he led and ended the conversation with himself throughout the evening. the eagerness to culminate their public outing with a rushed check—food and drink barely complete. then, the open door for potential sex with the phrase: “how bout you hop up and take a seat?” a phrase she indicated in her interview with babe.net was an invitation. in spite of this, which occurred before any sexual activity, she didn’t leave. why? the fairytale. grace replies: “I didn’t leave because I think I was stunned and shocked. this was not what I expected. I’d seen some of his shows and read excerpts from his book and I was not expecting a bad night at all, much less a violating night and a painful one.” the fairytale. and I get it. what woman wouldn’t be elated to meet their celeb crush, let alone, go on a date? it’s a dream. hell, it’s my dream. however, what you ain't finna do is be an asshole to me all night and think we gone fuck. in general, what you ain't finna do is think we gone fuck just cause you got money and station. this is where women, like grace, get caught up in some bullshit and left to deal with the trauma of a cinderella moment turned into a nightmare. I know, I’ve been there. I spent a lot of my late teens and early twenties giving up coochie points to dudes who didn’t deserve a hello. I wanted men to want me. wanted them to take me out and treat me nice like I assumed they did all the girls in my dorm. my naivete kept me blind from knowing what they did or if they did anything at all. a visit to a man’s residence prior to or after a date doesn’t quantify sex. but when that man makes advances you don’t want or aren’t comfortable with, there’s a part of you that should deem yourself worthy enough to say no. and when you do and the no gets dismissed, kick a muthafucka in the balls and run—like. hell. this is where my issue lies. at what point do we, as women, become so paralyzed in our voice we compromise our integrity? are we afraid to gain or lose a “reputation?” are we afraid to lose an opportunity? were we taught ordering on the “fucking side” of the menu required actual fucking? my concern is not ansari and his fuckboy ways. my concern is grace and the fairytale she held on to. the: I didn’t leave because I think I was stunned and shocked reply indicates a hope that he would just back off and be normal. but grace, my love, he was normal. maya angelou said it best: “when people show you who they are, believe them.” he showed his ass throughout the entire date before the sexual advances; yet, she stayed and hoped to have a “pumpkin carriage” night. I don’t want another grace. I want this to be the last of the graces who anchor themselves in the idea of a man, only to be drowned by his reality. I want the graces of the world not to hold out until a dude goes too far to get out of dodge. I want the graces of the world to have cue words, phrases, and signposts which prompt the removal of a hostile environment because ansari's apartment was hostile af. I want the graces of the world to not have to retaliate on social because the expected fairytale ended in a horror movie. I feel for grace, but I want her to be accountable for herself. for not choosing her sanity over fantasy. for not wanting to see her crush as is—an asshole. at no point was Grace under duress. am I taking away her feeling? no. still, I want the graces of the world to be shocked and appalled outside the asshole’s apartment who violated you. not contemplating if he’s going to notice you’re uncomfortable and coddle you. he’s not. men like ansari are incapable of comfort when in their phase of hunt and kill. grace was easy prey. a target. he sensed the enamor in her conversation and behavior and took advantage of that. grace is a “victim” of an opportunist, her lack of self-esteem, and the loss of her voice. there’s a fine line here and while there’s an effort not to overshadow her experience, this is not a #metoo moment. the story of Grace cannot be lumped together with the stories of women who are experiencing assault, rape, and constant harassment as I type this. to the Graces of the world, connect with other strong women to find your voice. I need you to not endure dragging yourself down to the white meat before you remove yourself from an awkward situation. this may read flippant; however, I mean this with the utmost sincerity: join a facebook group. many are safe havens and offer support and camaraderie. they’ve been a woman’s silver lining. I encourage following women activists, on instagram, as well as other pages of inspiration. attend a meetup, and if nothing else, see a therapist. it’s pertinent you reclaim your power, for no one else but yourself. please, do not hide behind the victim label. don’t allow people to force in your hand or attach it to your name. don’t let the monsters with a peen disempower you. fight for your self-worth and understand a real man, one who values you, will never compromise your safety. in fact, he’ll give his life before anyone takes yours. I send my prayers and meditation to the graces of the world and hope you regain the strength to be you again. with love.

Vee

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bye.

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glow. all day.

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brown girl aesthetics

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❤

I prefer my pens in blue though 💅🏾

#thatswhatIlike #allblackeverything #loveandfaerymagic __

your intuition isn’t off, but your logic & reasoning might be

your intuition is not off, but your logic and reasoning might be. see, here’s the thing: intuition is your connection to Spirit. it’s a Divine act of knowing and the knowledge comes from your Guides or Source (if you’re fortunate). but your logic and reasoning, that’s worldly knowledge. shit you learned from your upbringing, school knowledge, street wisdom, common sense from context clues. the problem: you keep calling your intuition logic and reasoning. that’s the lie you told yourself to keep you from following your heart. trusting your gut instinct. your higher self told you not take the job, fuck with that dude, hang with those girls, take that ride, but you didn’t listen. rationalized all the things that could go right and dismissed what could go wrong. saw the opportunity. your intuition isn’t an opportunist—you are. stop lying on your intuition. it told you what to do, but you refused to listened. wanted to be right and ended up being strong and wrong. now, you wanna claim you don’t believe in God. step on your soapbox and say the Angels don’t exist, that your ancestors are some crazy ghosts haunting you at night. cut the shit. God didn’t lead you wrong. neither your Angels, nor your ancestors conveyed the message incorrect. in fact, they told you opposite and you argued them down. claimed it was the “devil” on your shoulder rejecting your intelligence. but you know the devil is a lie…right? yep, I’ll wait. and I’ll still be here when you’re ready to be accountable. your intuition is never wrong. but sometimes, hell, most times, your logic and reasoning is. stop jumping off the ledge and blaming your higher self. it’s unbecoming. there are parameters in place to protect you from such casualties; yet, you keep ignoring them. shut off the signals so you can dwell in your ego. had enough of being fake right? here’s some advice: meditate and listen. I learned the hard way and I’m still learning. the truth is not always want you want to hear. honestly, it’s rarely what you want to hear; however, it will set you free. stop satisfying your ego with your logic and reasoning. the magic you want to happen in your life can’t be quantified. there’s no metrics to the power of Spirit in your life. trust your intuition. I guarantee your higher self with thank you for it. k? Vee.

#enlightenment #intuition #higher self #divine message #saffron soul #shavaughn elle