confessions.of.a.beauty.queen.

I hate my skin. It is so black.

I hate my hair. It is so thick and not "good hair."

I hate my body. It is so short and skinny, and of course, no boobs.

I hate my voice. It is too soft and weak.

I hate my smile. It is way too big.

So, I thought.


In silence, I wept bitterly because no one thought I was a precious pretty little girl (Again, so, I thought). My soul was slaughtered with self-hatred and persecutions of shame.

THEN IT HAPPENED.

I started to learn about myself. Then I started to like myself. Then I started to love myself and still, I am enriched in the epiphany of self-love.

I love my chocolate skin. It's rich, exotic, and too damn delicious to admire.

I love my hair. I had naturally long hair to short boy cut. Regardless on the style, interwoven with weave or not, my hair is flowing with health.

I love my body. It is petite and fun-sized. As for the boobs, one word. Push-up bra. God is a genius. hahaha.

I love my voice. It is soft, soothing, inviting and feminine.

As for my smile, it is still big and wide, but Bodacious!!


There are HUNDREDS crippled little girls who are defiled, hating themselves, thinking such foolish thoughts I once feast upon daily. I pray that one day, they look in the mirror and cherish their unfading God-given beauty...

...like I finally did.

all.men.are.dogs.

All men are dogs.

Well, at least the ones I've dated. Most of them.

Others were just mistakes.ugh.

But then I STOPPED serving KIBBLE AND BITS and starting cooking up Filet Mignon in red wine and balsamic vinegar.

....and Reginald D. Johnson, Sr. pulled up a seat.

I simply love my man. He is a warrior. Not because he is fighting a rare brain cancerous disease, but because he indulges in my tasty love everyday.

I am his Queen, with his pure love dripping all over every inch of my body. Who needs diamonds when you could have such a love so rich? So precious? So rare?

He fulfills me.

Mentally.

Physically.

Spiritually.

All through high school and college, I fell for the cuties who were delicious but were too tart to taste. To be real, they just treated me like shit.

But one night, an angel came down, wiped my tears and told me to STOP.

Like my girl Wilson says, every woman has a light bulb that will turn on when she is fed up. Until her light flashes on, she will continue to allow men... excuse me, dogs to treat her like a piece of savory bacon.

But I met him. Reggie. The man who truly covered my bruised heart with his blanket of solace. And healed it.

Countless nights of warm thoughts. Because the Prince of my dreams have arrived and stayed by my side, my everyday life is a fantasy. A real love story.

Finally, a man who is a man and who loves me. And not ashamed of being loved back by his beautiful Black Queen.

Why do YOU hate me? And Her?

Envy is poison.

She bathes in sin.

Hate flows out her mouth, gently over her lips and teeth.

Each spit of deceit from her twisted tongue and jealous lips crushes her spirit.

Black little girls' self-esteems bleed death. And that's only the beginning, so we believe.

What constitutes this? SELF-HATRED.

We let each other sink. And because of this, more black women are crying. and dying. and still killing.

Why do we cane each other with whippings of brutality? And not healing?

Because we kill each other's spirit.

We depend on men to nurse us back to health, suckling on their lies as we lay on their chests, giving our children's blood as we engage in unhealthy and even unwanted sexual relations.

Jealously is unyielding as the graveyard.

Love is strong as death. But Jealousy potion is sweeter. And we are all dying to get a sip.

Angels Breath...

My boyfriend is fighting brain cancer.

Devastating, right?

Not really.

His cancer integrated into my body and spread into my heart.

Cancer kills. But it gives New appreciation for life.

Tiny angels have rescued his soul.

We both grieve in our unfailing love. We rejoice because each sunrise is the gateway to a new day to gain an excellent standing and great assurance in our faith.

The discovery of his rare brain disease has taken a toll on him physically. But not his mind.

We can't control every thought. But we can fully be certain to think about what are thinking about.

His brain tissue may not be hearty, but his mind is.

"You're blessed when you get your inside world-your mind and heart-put right. Then you can see God in the outside world." ~Matthews 5:8

Cancer is scary. But life isn't.

Be reverent.

"And keep living."

At least, that is what Reggie says.

So, it must be true.

New ME

Good Evening.

My name is Tammy.

A lot of you think that you may know me. But you don't.

Hell, I just met myself a few months ago.

A lot of people ran out of my life. Others are still walking towards the door. It's still open.

Some people may think that I have changed.

Guess what.

I did.

Sincerely,
Tammy J.

P.S. God ain't thru with me yet.

Stop

For some people, they wake up and wander around, pleasing themselves.

I, on the other hand, I wake up, in high hopes of pleasing God.

Over the last few weeks, I have been trying to get closer to God. I know that it's not like he is gently pushing me away every time I get closer to Him; it just feels as though I have yet to touch Him.

The thing we call Life is a bitch. I realized that this morning when I was getting dressed for work. This world of ours is a fucked up world. And it is not the food or oxygen that carries us through our 14 hour days.

It is God's grace.

Lord, have mercy on us. Please.

There have been times I wished that I did not have to get out the bed. I would be scared to face the world. The unseen dangers. The disguised hatred.

But reciting a few Bible scriptures is what gets my adrenaline going.

After playing hide and seek with my pillows, I wake up, asking myself, what the fuck am I doing? Why am I not successful.

But that's the thing. I am.

I am just too damn blind and dumb to realize it. I am so blessed that it hurts to start counting. By the time I get to blessing number 4, I feel like a coward and ask the Lord for forgiveness instantly.

We get so caught up in worrying about our lives. We forget that it is NOT our duty to worry. We are all assigned one duty from God and that is to JUST LIVE.

Like the Bible says, each day has its own troubles, so only live for today, for tomorrow is too not promised.

A Love Story

I will never forget the day I first saw him. He walked through the doors at Malcolm X Elementary School, downtown.

Light-skinned brotha.

I glanced and then quickly turned my eyes away. I could never have something so delicious.

He saw me. And smiled.

Heart starts pumping. I smiled back.

But of course, as a dummy, I turned away and looked right at my phone, texting the green-eyed monster.

hahaha. ok.ok. Ill stop. It was my now-ex boyfriend. He is not a monster. He is simply the guy who threw my heart out onto the street, stomped all over it, while spitting globs of deceit on it. hahaha. just kidding.

Looking back, he gave me nothing. And he took it when he left.

Who knew right then that this light-skinned brotha would be the Prince who sweeps me off my feet and plants me as his precious black rose in his secret garden, his heart.

And his name. Reggie.

...his love travels so deep inside me, I do not want to return from our journey. oh je t' aime.