The Attractive Couple Plight

Do I think I’m pretty? Yes. Do I think I’m beautiful? I believe I have a beauty that isn’t an outward beauty; I think I inhabit a beautiful spirit. Do I need the validation from men to affirm my beauty? No. I don’t need that from every man, but I do want that from my man.

I remember being pregnant, hormonal, and sitting on the carpeted portion of the bathroom floor in the home I shared with my now ex-husband. I had had a really bad day, and I was sitting there crying my eyes out. I cried not because I was just having a bad day. I cried because I knew in my heart of hearts I was married to a man that didn’t want to be with me, a man that didn’t like me.

We had been together since I was 16. Initially there was something about him that I just did not like. I didn’t know what it was. He was incredibly attractive: 6’3, medium brown skin, beautiful dimples that made me melt every time he smiled, and he always made me laugh. Women loved him. Men wanted to be like him. Children adored him. I would say we were equals in that regard. Men loved me. Women wanted to be like me, and I never met a child that didn’t want to either play in my hair or sit in my lap.

 People always commented on how good we looked together and how handsome our oldest son was. His entire family instantly took to me, and he didn’t have one friend that didn’t like me. I think that is what bothered him. I owned whatever room I walked into by simply being myself. I have never lacked confidence because I was raised that way and am genuinely a happy person. I’m not arrogant, but I am sure of myself, and on those rare occasions that I am not I fake it until I make it.

Having been with him for almost 10 years, I knew he harbored a sense of insecurity, but I don’t know where it came from. He was accustomed to women throwing themselves at him and giving him whatever he wanted. I was never that way with him. I challenged him to be a better person, to be real with himself. I am a believer of equality and operating under the law of reciprocity. Looks aren’t enough for me. I always felt as though he was in competition with me, which to this day still baffles me. I was his partner. I wanted him, me, and US to succeed in life. I helped him with his résumé, job evaluations, and anything else he needed.

That night was the first and last time he ever called me pretty. He’s never deemed me beautiful. We sat on that floor and talked for about an hour. His last line to me was, “You’re very pretty. I never pictured myself being with a woman like you, though. I always pictured myself being with a model chick. Not you.” His compliments were always low-key insults and somehow seemed to insinuate that I might be cheating on him because so many men hit on me.

I would be lying if I said those words didn’t make me feel some kind of way at the time as well as shot a blow to my self esteem, especially while I was pregnant. I said all that to say I don’t understand why men go after women that are widely pursued only to be in a secret competition with them when 9 times out of 10 the only compliments that matter to her are the ones that come from her man’s mouth. Of all the compliments I receive in a day, the only ones that make my heart sing are the ones that come from my sons and the man I love. I don’t know. Do extremely attractive men suffer from the lowest self esteem, or are they just spoiled and “rebel” against the women that don’t fall at their feet?

His Ether

He has me feeling like love

Like something otherworldly

The cipher of my body decoded 

Now I need him in my cypher

His love

I did swallow and coat it

No choking

Just yoking

Butterfly stroking and soul soaking

I did

 

I did

I did partake of his Indian Poke

But I didn’t choke

Just call me Koch

Like a Native

I separated the poison from sedative

Created my own anesthetic

From his ether

He’s a keeper

I a leader

So I was gifted

With The Crown

Your Truths

Lately more and more I keep finding myself wanting to live more of an earthy bohemian-like lifestyle mixed with a bit of luxe. Minimalist, quiet, lots of travel, and delectable earthy sensual pleasures. These are the things I dreamed of as a teenager. I was never one to fantasize about a wedding or huge house filled with lots of children and a loving husband. I dreamed of being a business woman that was free to move about on a whim. This recollection of my past dreams has lead to my doing lots of introspecting and getting to the heart of what I really want and what MY truths are as opposed to what I have been taught to believe, want, and need. 

Q’s Truth Number 1 - I don’t want a traditional house with a yard and a dog. I want a loft, high-rise, or condo. A traditional house is too much of a commitment for me. I felt I should raise my boys in a house because, well, that’s the way it’s supposed to be done. I now realize that as long as your dwelling place is filled with love, understanding, calmness, and lots of food the children will be happy. I am not one of those mothers that wants my children to live with me forever, and I don’t intend to sign up to babysit my grandchildren every weekend. 

Q’s Truth Number 2 – I don’t want to get married. People are constantly asking when I will re-marry. Even my youngest son wants me to be married. I have dated many amazing men, but in my heart of hearts I don’t want to be married. That might change later, but for now I don’t want that. I love having options and the leisure of dealing with a man when I feel like it and on my terms. There is nothing quite like the ability to pick and choose who you want to spend your time with. If I am not in the mood to deal with a particular man’s flavor of personality, then I don’t have to. Every person brings something different to the table. If I want to chill, then I can call guy #1. If I want great conversation, I can call guy #2. If I just want a male’s opinion I can call a male without fear of my man becoming jealous. If I want to be pampered, then I can call just about any man. You get my drift. I get bored quickly and am very selfish with my time, so I need variety and understanding men that respect the fact that I require a lot of alone time.

Q’s Truth Number 3 – I don’t want more children. One of the first things most men ask me is whether or not I can bear more children. Yes, I can, but I don’t want anymore. I am constantly hit with the, “but what if you meet an amazing man that is perfect for you but he wants you to have his baby?” speech. At this point in my life, I would just have to let him pass me by because my answer is no. As with number 1, maybe this will change, but no time soon.

Q’s Truth Number 4 – I am not a traditional mother. My goal is to raise children that become adults that are self sufficient and can think for themselves. I encourage my sons to set trends, not follow them simply to fit in, and to blaze their own trails in life. This makes me a bit more of a laid back mild mannered mother. I rarely ever raise my voice at my boys and treat them with respect. For example, if I tell one of them to take out the trash I would say, “Kailon/Kambren, take the trash out, please. Thank you.” I say thank you before they do it as a way of letting them know I expect you to do it right now. I don’t order them around unless it’s bath time. Boys hate taking baths until they discover girls. I am a stickler for neat appearances, and at times it pains me to watch my 13 year old’s sense of fashion play out before my very eyes. I will make suggestions, and, unless he is wearing something totally ridiculous, I just roll with it and let him express himself via his attire. My only rules are no clothes with skulls and cross bones, because I don’t want reminders of death on my children’s bodies, and no sagging pants. Other than that, most things are fair game. I also encourage them to flow in what they are naturally good at. Kailon loves art, fashion, music, and photography. He’s not athletic. Even though he’s taller than me with a lanky frame I don’t push him to play basketball. Kambren is into anything sports related: wresting, karate, football, etc. I don’t try to get him to paint a portrait or play an instrument. I believe what you are naturally good at is what you should be doing in life. 

What are some of your truths?

Irons in the Fire

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” - Anaïs Nin

That is one of my most favorite quotes by Ms. Nin, and it perfectly describes where I am in life at the moment. I am somewhat private and hush-hush when it comes to sharing my goals and aspirations with people other than the ones I am intimately acquainted with, mainly my mother and sister. I do this because, of course, I believe in the power of words and don’t want others speaking against my plans and praying/plotting against me. There are some pretty wicked people out there. I also do this because if I fail, I can quietly get to work on Plans B through Z without being publicly humiliated. I am preparing to feel naked in 5,4,3,2…

My sorta tame curls blowing in the wind

I entered a natural hair/modeling competition. I initially only wanted to enter the hair portion which was not a competition, just for the exposure and experience, but it required I be a size 6. Um, yeah…I am double that plus 2. I was going to leave, but two of the lovely women hosting the event talked me into staying and signing up for the full figured segment. I met so many amazing women! What lead me to even considering this whole ordeal in the first place was the fact that in one week I was told by three different people (one was a random older foreign man in the grocery store) that I have the strut of a model. I took that as a sign to stop procrastinating, cast my line, and do the damn thing. Whatever happens, happens. I am enjoying the beautiful journey. Pray favor for me guys and maybe even a modeling/spokesperson contract! I have two boys to feed. We all know boys eat ALL day long. LOL

My wild curls

I love to dance. I dance and sound like a White girl from The Valley, but I love to dance no less. I am great at choreographed dances and learn them quickly, and I have also been doing liturgical dance since I was about 15 years old. I needed to work out and get in shape, but between work and my sons I never had the time. I started doing strength training in my office on my lunch breaks. I did mainly squats and lunges because they work the bigger muscles thus burning more calories. I figured I may as well get more bang for my buck and tone my booty in the process. I have been interested in Zumba but none of the classes ever fit my schedule, so me, being the overachiever I sometimes am, decided I would get certified and teach myself on my time. Well, word got out that I am a certified instructor. Long story short, I will begin teaching Zumba on my birthday, September 21. I am hoping for much success and a loyal customer base, and lots of booty popping, hip shaking, and shoulder shimmying ratchet fitness fun. I want the women in my class to feel like strippers and have fun! A friend of mine said he was going to make me some ‘Undercover Ratchet’ shirts because my outer appearance is so…not ratchet.

The last new thing I am checking off my list is spoken word poetry. I have a friend that owns a restaurant and is looking to diversify her clientele and thus is now hosting an open mic affair every Friday night from 10pm to 2am. She asked me to help kick things off September 28th. This will be the first time I ever read my work aloud. I don’t know how I feel about all this just yet.

Needless to say I have been one busy bee. If you are in Houston the weekend of December 7-8, stop by the reliant and holler at ya girl! If you live in Houston and want to join my Zumba classes or want to witness me bless the mic for the first time just let me know and I will get you the info. I appreciate you, babes and gents. You may reach me via email at duchessqui@gmail.com. What irons do YOU have in the fire?

I do not own the image of Teena Marie, but I do love her music. I can listen to “Portuguese Love” endlessly while imagining being on an island at dusk with a rugged masculine man that has one hand around my waist as his other puffing on a Cuban cigar. The wind fondling my hair and carrying the scent of his Hennessey laced skin. Euphoria…

Sex-etary

What are these women outchea doing?! Some are always complaining that their men aren’t making enough money while others just let them walk around being sexually and emotionally frustrated, and others still are doing all three. Bad business if you ask me. Nobody asked me, but I’ma lace you with my opinion anyway because this is my blog.  

Apparently some of the men I work with think I am their personal nerd that will spew out research papers at the drop of a dime with only a moment’s notice. I usually look over their directions for the papers and let that ish sit on the corner of my desk as I carry on with whatever I was doing before they walked into my office. I love to write, but I hate writing research papers, or papers of any kind for that matter. I can do it and charge them for it; I just don’t want to, though. All of these men are married. I feel they should be asking the women they wife-d up for such favors. I am not trying to put another woman in a pair of Louboutins. If you don't care enough about your man making more money and bettering y'all situation then why should I? You sure as hell won't let him cop me any Loubous once he does make it. And that brings me to where I was going with this post. If you’re complaining about your man’s income or lack thereof, what are you doing about it?

As much as I hate writing research papers, I would write one with the quickness for my man if it meant bettering him and his situation because in turn I would be bettering my own situation. In fact, I would do more than write his paper. I would be his secretary, administrative assistant, administrator, brain storming partner, sounding board, motivator, all that. Get that money, baby! Ambition is sexy, and I don’t ever want to see it die. Hell, if he got frustrated I would gladly suck him off or whatever he needed done to get him back on track. I’m here to help you, be your partner. I want you to be able to hold your head high and walk around like the S.ugar H.oney I.ced T.ea that you are all the while knowing that you have a fully grown intellectually inclined sexy woman backing you. Do your thing, Daddy.

Don’t complain about it, ladies. Get to work. Rub his head and pillow talk about how amazing his talents are and start asking questions to spark his interest in bettering himself for the two of you. While you’re ego stroking him, don’t forget about yourself. Stay driven and motivated about your life and goals outside of him. If yours coincide with his, great! If they don’t, so be it, still pursue them. Most men want you to have a life outside of them anyway. If you just don’t like your mate enough to want to see him do better then it may be time to totally reevaluate your entire situation. 

This just serves as my kind unction to get you to play your part to ensure you have a great sex life, travel the world, and rock the hell out of some fierce Louboutins, Brian Atwoods, L.A.M.B.s, Schutz, Cavalli, Charlotte Olympia, and anything else you like. Everyone knows a man making money with a supportive woman in his corner will gladly do whatever it takes to keep her happy, and a woman blazing her own trail in life is a spicy fun one. That all makes for great sex, conversation, company, and emotional stability. Now that’s some powerful stuff.*cue Beyonce’s ‘Grown Woman’ followed by Jay-Z’s ‘On the Run’*

Breezy Baby ;-)

I finished my hair with just enough time to stop by the shoe repair shop before heading to the airport to catch my flight. I leisurely pulled into the parking lot of the shop, happy to be able to wear my pumps again. I could sense him coming behind me as I stepped out of my car. I didn’t catch a glimpse of his face as he gently played in my hair, licked my skin with the velvety softness of a most divine silk and cashmere blend, and sang sweet melodic whispers in my ear. As I turned to face him, he breezed beneath my dress, causing it to flutter and rise. I hurriedly attempted to lower the hem while being overcome by a blushing fit that was futile to fight. He disappeared into the steaminess of the atmosphere, leaving me there alone blushing and looking around to see if anyone had witnessed our saucy interlude. I felt so sexy holding a dirty little secret wrapped in exhibitionism. How did that naughty gust of wind know I was wearing no panties?

I'm Chilling

I am not seeing anyone exclusively. Actually, I haven’t seen anyone totally exclusively since my divorce. I am not against monogamy, but by the same measure I’m not out here looking to get ‘chose’ as a wifey, either. I’m chilling.


I met a police officer. Wait, let me back up. I met a banking call center manager. He’s 37, divorced, 2 children, claims to want no more children, and seemingly financially stable. We went out to lunch one Sunday afternoon. It was a very nice date. Lots of easy conversation, laughs, comfort…the whole 9. Fast forward 2 days. He sent me a text stating that he really liked me and wanted to develop a relationship with me. I told him that while I was open for building a relationship and getting to know him better I was not, however, open for exclusivity. I was totally honest with him. He’s a wonderful man, and just about any woman would be happy to claim him as her own. He said he understood. We still talk and try to plan dates around our schedules. He said he wants to travel, take trips, and things of the sort. Total sweetheart he is. The first time he contacted me he simply stated, “You are a beautiful lady. Are you seeing anyone? I would like to take you out this week. Let me know when you are available.” Um…okay Daddy. LOL. I gave him my number and thanked him for his straightforwardness. I really liked that.

Now, back to the officer. Dude is totally dope. We met while he was working security at the local grocery store. Apparently he had seen me buy wine a few times, but this night I only bought juice. He said, “No drank tonight?” as I was leaving the store. I was a little embarrassed, but he was cute, so it was whatever. He walked me to my car, and we chatted for about an hour before I finally told him to just take my number and call me later because I needed to go. He’s 38, also divorced, has a few kids, going back to school for his masters and hopes to practice law. We talk about music, clothes, men, women, hair, shoes, and literally everything under the sun. He keeps me laughing, but he’s also blunt and direct. Those are qualities I hold in high esteem. Mr. Officer is a bit more rugged, though. He’s from the North, so he’s a bit fresh, has a cute subtle accent, drinks his liquor straight with no chaser, has tattoos, and rocks Timbs. I TOTALLY dig that. I LOVE very masculine men. They ignite my feistiness like none other. He asked me what I was looking for, and I told him nothing. He seemed a bit irritated at my response, but I honestly am not looking for anything. I am open for whatever but am not gunning to walk down the aisle. I told him we would just see what transpires.

Then there’s the Nigerian that has been here for a few years. He’s 38 and claims he wants to be married by next year. We argue so much it’s unreal, but he seems to get off on my going off on him. I ain’t able. He also wants about 2 more children. I REALLY ain’t able. I don’t want anymore. I have 2, and my ‘baby’ is 8. I’m good. I know that’s selfish, but it is what it is.

Lastly, there is Mr. HC Muse from a few posts down. Mister man is sexy as all hell. I honestly can’t figure out what we are. I’ve asked him to define ‘us’, but of course he hit me with the, “let’s not label and confine what could be.” Fair enough, but I swear dude acts all pissy or suddenly enthusiastically pops up when my status updates on facebook suggest there is someone else. In all honesty, there was no one else around when I first met him, which meant he very well could have had me all to himself, but he failed to define what he wanted from or with me. Perhaps I am making the same move with Mr. Officer, but I also know how to open my mouth and say that I want a more permanent ‘something’ should my feelings start getting the best of me. I’m not for that passive aggressive hinting ish.

I guess what I am basically saying is I don’t want to belong to anybody. I like being free and able to change my mind on a whim. These are all wonderful men. Truly they are, but all provide something different that I need. Mr. Banker lavishes me with compliments. Mr. Officer nicely balances my ghetto side. Mr. Naija feeds my sadistic nature, and Mr. Muse gives me the purest affection a woman could ask for. I don’t want to die an old spinster, but I also don’t want to be in another unhappy marriage, so for now…I’m chilling.