You took my breath away. And it was literal. I used to hear clichés like this one all the time and think: yeah sure! And then I met you and I got it. That proverbial light bulb just went off. So this is what they meant. It’s the I-can’t-breathe-but-don’t-want-to-come-up-for-air The wait-while-I-wipe-that-silly-grin-off-my-face That now-where-were-we That I-know-I-just-saw-you-but… … Continue reading Literally I
Marigot In Madagascar
To restore her usual confident self, she returned to her habitual shopping spree and sampling of men. She went on dates. She had men doing her bidding yet, she felt empty. She broke off engagements. She lived her life this way attempting to forget that she could be, and was attracted to women. She still found herself plagued by memories of what could have been with Veya. She knew she needed to let that go and move on with her life, and she knew just the cure for that! A vacation! She would go to Giselle’s in Madagascar! Giselle had been inviting her since they both graduated from college and Giselle left the US to return to her island. She called Giselle up and arranged a visit.
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Personal Space? What’s That?
"Madam I will be right back!” he mouthed as he walked by, establishing eye-contact when I looked up. He was dressed in a blue uniform with his baton hanging from his belt. I assumed he was as one of the security men who patrolled Coconut Grove’s beachfront. Confused I nodded figuring he feared for my … Continue reading Personal Space? What’s That?
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Welcome to WWISH
There are lots of theories why women like me exist. Smart, highly-educated, beautiful, sexy, great cook. Also, Type A, neat-freak, no-nonsense, impatient, brutally honest. Unmarried and childless. By choice! They say we had strong female figures in our lives who over shadowed the male figures (if they were around). They say we are jaded because some guy in our past duped us. They say we are ‘apuskeleke.’ They say we hate men. They say we are lesbians. The list goes on. It never occurs to anyone that perhaps marriage is not meant for everyone, nor does it have to have a timeline, nor does the same timeline have to apply to everyone.
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Thoughts During the Long Layover (a week overdue (blame it on costly airport wifi))
Was it worth it all? What happens if I decide this is not for me, and I want out? What do I do with all these things I’ve shipped to Ghana? But what if I decide, I want to stay? How many of my contemporaries return to Ghana and stay this early in their lives,l. at age 34? I know of folks retiring there after they’ve acquired their “fortunes” or amassed enough wealth to live better than they used to live when they were there. I know these folks are around my mother’s age. But what would the country look like if my contemporaries all came home in their numbers and pushed for better functioning public service systems. New public restrooms. Dual-, better yet, multiple-carriage roadways that were built in the allotted amount of time with no contractor “chopping” the money. Traffic regulations implemented and thwarters penalized. Child labor abolished and perpetrators dealt with harshly. The status of women elevated and their well-being and thriving be of national concern. What if my coming home, our coming home would aid in this process? Would I have the patience to deal with the traffic, poor cell service, filthy public restrooms or lack of, and the superiorist attitudes of men?
Musings of An African Woman 