The Comfort Zone: Why I'm Coming Back

The comfort zone is not only my favorite song by Vanessa Williams, but what this blog is for me. It is my safe space. A creative haven. The only place where for the past seven years, I have written like no one is watching.

I started this blog during the first semester of my senior year at Yale. Back then, I wasn't sure what I wanted to be. I just knew I wanted to be fabulous and in love. So I blogged about my daily struggles as a college student, the pitfalls of my love life, and budget beauty baubles and DIY tips I swore by. Honestly, I  can say, I was blogging about DIY beauty before it became popular. Now evvverybody is doing it! No shade.

I digress. Before  I knew it, I was on to something. My blog started picking up speed in 2008, but something happened. I graduated. And I started working as a television reporter. Working on-air is a unique occupation because your likeness and your public opinions aren't really your own. You represent the call letters your recite every time you sign off. And so, out of fear of revealing to much, and a desire to focus on my career, I stopped posting. Almost.

In 2010, I was still working in tv when I felt a familiar itch. Really, I needed an escape. I'd fallen for an elusive figure that I call *Miles. Miles was everything I ever wanted in a man, and in retrospect, he represented everything I wanted for myself. He was good looking, successful, smart, and well-off. He was young with a high profile job as head of company he'd built from the ground up. I admired his independence, his cocksure attitude, and the way it seemed that everyone wanted a piece of him.

Maybe that's why I fell so hard. Deep down, I wanted to  be just like him.

Nonetheless, I think Miles sensed my inner restlessness. I think he caught the glimmer of utter fascination  in my eyes whenever I looked at him. I couldn't hide it. After the first date I was hooked. And over the course of two years, every time he disappeared without explanation, I didn't give up. I resigned, with foolish hope, that one day he'd complete me.

You know how the story ends. I figured out how to complete myself.

But nonetheless, during that time, and every other major romantic or professional hurdle, I wrote myself through it on this site. No holds barred. Yes, an alias, or several, but for some reason, I've always been able to be honest on this blog. It is home for me.

And for that reason,  I am coming back home. I don't know how this will pan out. I am trying to complete a fiction (inspired by Miles, go figure) and my career is all types of crazy (more on that in the future). Plus, I try to update my official site regularly. Nevertheless, I will be making it a point to return with more heartfelt stories, observations, DIY tips, and commentary that pertains to Black women. I hope you will rejoin me for this adventure and provide feedback too.

Also expect to sneak peeks from my upcoming work of fiction. I'm super excited about that.

When you don't know where to go, let your heart lead the way.

Flyness and funk,

What's your price? On Sex, Economics, and Market Crash

A woman's most valuable asset is her vagina.

Oh... you think I'm tripping? You don't think your vagina has a price? My mom looked at me pretty funny too until I explained to her my logic.

Let's look at some the basic differences between male and female sexuality.

-In all cultures men are expected to give resources in exchange for access to female sex. These resources may be in the form of dinners, money, gifts, time, attention, compliments, exclusivity or even marriage. But something of value is given in exchange for the possibility of sex. With few rare exceptions, women do not give anything in exchange for sex.

-Sex is costlier for women. Intercourse could result in pregnancy, child birth, and the responsibility of motherhood. Men only lose semen, and they practically have an endless supply of that.

-In all cultures, female virginity, or brand new vagina, is a prized possession. Male virginity, however, is stigmatized.

-Women may enjoy sex, but men need it. When push comes to shove, men are far more inclined to relax their standards or even resort to using porn and/or prostitutes for sexual gratification.

-In all cultures female infidelity carries greater weight than male infidelity. When a man cheats, it is viewed as a broken promise. When a woman cheats, it is as if she gave something of the man's away. In most cases, her infidelity is unforgiveable.

-And finally, when a man boasts about a successful seduction he might say he "scored" , "hit it", or "got the panties". The woman on the other hand "put out" or "gave it up".

Sex between a man and a woman is not an equal exchange. When men and women have sex, physically they are doing similar things. Socially they are doing very different things. A man is receiving something of value that the woman is giving. Her vagina.

Since the beginning of time women have used their sexuality as a powerful negotiating tool for resources and protection. Let's not forget that it wasn't until very recently, less than 100 years, that women were allowed to really work and take care of themselves. For the greater part of human history a woman's sexuality and ability to bear children was her most significant asset. Her survival and her childrens survival depended on how well she leveraged her sexuality. Hence our foremothers had to be incredibly selective about whom they granted access to their vaginas.

When we consider sex as an exchange of resources, our perception of romance is bound to change. In economic terms, the world is a market place. Courtship is a negotiation to determine what a man is willing to give in exchange for access to a particular vagina. And marriage is a contract. But perhaps this less-than-romantic concept of romance could do womankind some good.

It goes without saying that all vagina is not created equal.

There are certain qualities that may increase the value of an individual vagina, and they of course pertain to the woman attached to it. Beauty, youth, class, intelligence, virtue, and a lack of prior sexual partners all raise value.

And then of course some qualities lower it. A used vagina is worth less than new vagina that's still in its original packaging. A widely-distributed vagina is worth less than an exclusive vagina. As with any commodity.

Then there are factors that influence the overall market, largely supply and demand. Think of it as the US Vagina Exchange. The price of American vagina has been plummeting since the early sixties, around the time the birth control pill was introduced. When women stopped having to worry about getting pregnant, they were free to enjoy sex just like men.

In actuality, women's liberation merely freed women to frolic in a man's sexual paradise. As women indulged in pleasures of the flesh, the market became flooded with cheap vagina. As time passed, premarital sex became the norm. More babies were born out of wedlock. Sex without strings and cohabitation without commitment became the norm. Vaginas could be had for less than ever before. One dinner. Maybe two. A week of phone calls. A drink. A compliment. The slightest sign of interest.

By the eighties it was considerably more difficult for women with high quality vagina to command the same high prices as women decades prior. Men weren't as willing to lavish them dinners, gifts, attention, and commitment. It was too easy to find cheaper vagina elsewhere.

And in the year 2000, in a market inundated with cheap vagina and internet porn, the price of american vagina hit rock bottom.

The vagina market crashed.

So where do women go from here? There are two options. Usually when supply exceeds demands, companies work together to reduce the amount of product on the market and raise the market value. So, theoretically modern women en mass could stop giving of the vagina so freely.

Then of course there are steps individual women can take to command a high price. And that's pretty simple. Make your vagina exclusive. Why be a KIA when you can be a Porsche? Why be a double-wide when you can be a mansion? I believe that a woman's vagina is her greatest asset. It is sacred. It is her crown jewel. But it is only worth as much as the woman it is attached to.

The best thing that we can do to survive this sexonomic recession is to be the best women we can, and to make peace with extended periods of abstinence. We have to put our vaginas away and save it for men (or the man) who truly deserve it. We must be wonderfully aware of our worth and only willing to share ourselves with men who demonstrate that they are as well.

While many men will settle for what comes easy, the best men will work for does not. A man may cross the street for a cheap thrill, but he'll jump through flames for a woman that only few have had.

And you know what?

I don't think he'll mind the challenge, the adventure, or the possibility of being with the best this world has to offer.

Cheers,

PS: Never did like economics in college.

Love Changes

My doctor friend is fabulous, juggling everything. Her position as an OB-GYN at a hospital here in Medium City, South. Her MBA classes. Her foundation. Her friends including myself, a little-sister-like companion. And on top of all of that-- her new man.

"You're so good about balance," I told her on our last phone conversation. We were rehashing the events of the ladies-night dinner we attended the evening prior. She was taking a break from studying for an exam.

"I used to be," she admitted. "It's getting harder. Men are needy."

Aren't they? Actually relationships are needy. They deplete time you would be spending on yourself, but some things are worth that time. My doctor friend is in her mid-thirties, and after a series of failed relationships and men she was simply too good for, it seems like she has (finally) found the one. But you know what? Perhaps if she found 'the one' when she was my age-- she wouldn't be so accomplished.

It is the compromise of love. Love changes things.

Sometimes in the absence of love, there is plenty of room for personal growth. When Miles cleared the picture (partially, as I ironically heard from him the other day) I seemed to have a lot more time on my hands. Really I didn't, but the young energy that I was pouring into my love life, hoping to build a future with this handsome man was suddenly.... mine.

And then of course it took quite a bit of energy to get over it.

But once that time passed, I asked myself a question. How can I make me happy?

Have you ever woke up singing? Like, I'm feeling fabulous! No specific reason, just you're high on life? Well, that is my life right now.

In answering this question, I realized there were some things on the grand to-do list that I wanted to accomplish. I wanted to shed a couple pounds. I wanted to jump start my literary career. I wanted to give back to the community and essentially renew my life. And then one day I glanced in a mirror, and realized, I had. Totally.

That heart break sparked the greatest phase of transformation in my life in ten years. (My transformation between middle school and high school was something serious.)

That's the positive aspect of being young and single, especially if you have big dreams for yourself. You date and commiserate and then you spend a lot of time working on you. You become more fabulous with each passing year, and really, with each passing liason, because even if it doesn't work out (hopefully) you learn something new about men, or something new about yourself. Maybe both.

And then when the man of your dreams does come along, like my doctor friend, you are ready. In fact-- maybe that's why he comes along.

Flyness and Funk,

Ike