“Ay yo Tiny, I’m trying to be as polite as possible but you looking real good. What are you, like 4’11?”

– Said to me by a gentleman in East Harlem a few minutes ago

“They call you Indigo, we call you Africa”- e. badu

It’s been a while since I had an “Ask Me Anything” post. But since it’s a new year with new readers and a new direction with this blog, I thought I’d do this again.

Here are the simple directions:

1- Ask a question in the comment box about anything you want to know about me (barring my social security number, etc). No question is too great or small. Lurkers, I want to hear from you too.

2- I’ll respond.

3- I’ll summarize all questions and answers in a follow-up post.

See, I told you that was easy. Thanks for playing!

Check out this post and this post to see past questions and answers.

My notions of presenting and sexuality began before I realized I was gay. My sister was very much a tomboy, and I recalled her awkwardness with dressing in feminine clothing. I don’t think it wasn’t because of body issues or a self-perception of not being “pretty” in feminine clothing (she was, in fact, stunning) but it simply wasn’t her. I know I teased her a lot over the years for looking like a boy, but I think a part of me both feared her being ostracized for being different but also admired her courage to just Be.

I, on the other hand, dressed very girly. Part of the reason was because it was the 90s and the movie Clueless was popular. I totally was into the stacked loafers, a center part in my hair and barrettes. However, the real truth why I was so feminine was because it was an attempt to feel “normal” and included, instead of the unrelenting “different” that my adolescent years brought. While that difference was anchored in growing self-awareness of my sexuality, it was also very much impacted by being poor, African-American, living in the ‘hood and everything else that was not the upper class, white, girls prep school that I attended.

Around my junior in high school, I finally came to grips with being a lesbian. While I wasn’t officially “out,” I’d like to think that some of my friends suspected and at least one teacher was working covertly for me to be okay with myself. I was scared shitless of actually voicing those words “I’m gay” to anyone but I figured if perhaps I looked more gay, then people would get the hint, ask me, and all I would have to do is confirm. It was the 90s and it never occurred to me that I could be gay without an announcement.

So, I cut off all my hair. I was left with about an inch of curly something or other, and I felt like such a rebel. In a black culture where length and texture are badges of honor, I balked all that, and the defiance felt great. But I didn’t earn the “gay” badge that I thought would come with it. People just assumed I was being my usual rebellious self and never even questioned it, though my mother refused to look at me for 24 hours after the big chop. As it turned out, I would have to come out by traditional means and deal with the ignorant “but you don’t look gay” from the straight world and the “what, you know how to use tools?” from the gay.

I spent some years trying to figure out how to present, using and balking at labels, and 17 years after coming out I’ve finally found my comfort zone. I’ve accepted that I truly love the feminine, girly things about dressing, be it dresses, heels, makeup, and accessories. It has nothing to do with what roles or assumptions of what I should be. It’s simply a reflection of how I feel the most confident. The practical side doesn’t allow me to dress like that every day (though I’m trying to fight her J ) but I’m now okay with how I present as well as asserting myself as a lesbian woman.

At the end of the day, the clothes do make this woman—they identify me as secure, confident, classy, bold, sassy, sexy, and reflective.

Starting next week, I’m going to be featured at I Bleed Ink Magazine, writing a weekly series entitled Pieces of Her.

I’ll always remind you when it’s up, and I hope you all stop by, read, comment, and share!

*The title is a reference to Erykah Badu’s famous introduction of her song “Tyrone” on her Live album. Check it out here:

Necessary background information:

1-She calls her female parts her ” ‘gina” as in a shortened version of “vagina.” She also interchanges calling the same region her “booty” as well. So when she says that her booty hurts, you have to use context clues to figure if she actually means her butt or ‘gina.

2- I let her shower with me tonight to save on time. These forays are usually spent wrestling the pumice stone out her hand and convincing her that it’s not the best tool to wash our bodies.

So tonight, we were in the shower and she was brushing me with a foot brush. Then she stopped mid stroke and gasped. “Momma, I found something! What is that??”

I looked down to see what she was referring to and hoped that it wasn’t that.

“Oh my belly button?” I volunteered, hoping to deflect.

“No! You have an earring in your booty!”

Silence.

“We have to get it out!”

“No, Bean. Um.. Mommy will help with that.”

“Okay” and back to showering we went.

I thought that may have been the end to it, but when A came into the bathroom later, she shared “Mommy! Momma has an earring in her booty and you have to get it out!”

Lord, I hope she doesn’t repeat this tomorrow at school. Somehow, I don’t think that I’m that lucky.

I wish I had answers or some particular insight to share, but alas I’m just human. Instead, I have a plethora of questions that branch from these two:

1-Is it possible to be happy and whole in a relationship where the romance is done, when one has fallen out of love? How do you do that- be happy?

2- Should one stay in a relationship whe n the romance and intimacy has dissolved?

I’m sure there are a ton of answers and I know there is no “right” one. We all have a variety of circumstances. We’ve all tried a many things to cope, to heal, to numb. We all are on our journeys to liberation and this is one test that comes up repeatedly in my life, so I guess it’s time to study this lesson.

What are your answers?

It’s easy to fall in love, but will someone, please, tell me how to stay there?

-Love Jones

On touch

We use touch to say the things our words can’t

to reach from the soul in ways that utterances won’t

to transcend time and place

and to be inside

minds

hearts

spirits

In touch there is connection

a transference of energy

a communion

that is sacred beyond walls, titles, and eras

Touch is the first language

the one that communicates from our mother’s womb

the one that tells our true intention

the one that lingers from lover to chosen

In it is intention and reality

love and lust

truth and being

~liberationtheory

I feel sexy when I

- wear dresses and heels
- look at myself naked in the mirror
- make love
- get my hair done
- get compliments
- get my nails done
- work out
- wear perfume
- am being a tease
- wear my hair curly
- show off my legs
- have a new pedicure
- that look in her eyes
- kisses on my neck
- grown folks music
- baths by candlelight
- matching underwear and push up bras
- Brazilian waxes

I need to get back into a LOT of this.

What makes you feel sexy?