The People’s Prince. . .or Jester? Why the Royal Couple’s Moves Are Anything But

I commend Harry for doing what he felt he needed to do to protect his wife. Protection is a man’s main responsibility to his family. I also recognize that Meghan understands the influence she has with her husband. As she should. But this ain’t it.

Courtesy of Hello.com

This is why the type of woman a man chooses is important. Harry has a weakness. He lost his mother at a young age and never got over it. Especially since what he knows is vague memory and secondhand info. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like. But…. Meghan knows these things about Harry.

Now because Harry is a man, he is taking full responsibility for his decisions and continuing to protect his wife. As he should. That’s honorable. But…..

This. Will. Not. End. Well.

You can’t pull a man away from his mission, his sense of purpose, his family and legacy, all the things that ground him and think everything’s going to be kosher. It won’t be.

Meghan signed up for this. It’s what she wanted. This woman is almost 40 years old. She’s worked for years in Hollywood trying to gain stardom to finally land a role as somewhat of a B-List actress on a show no one talks about, despite growing up in Hollywood.

Maybe all the attention came as a shock, since no one was checking for her before. But that’s what happens to A-List celebrities all the time. It comes with the job. So going from B-List actress to royalty, what did she think was coming? NO ONE gets only good press. It’s the nature of the beast.

This is not a Black or white thing. Princess Diana was WHITE, and the crazy paparazzi was implicit in her death. This is a white-hot blind spot for Harry, and in my opinion, the only reason moving away from the very systems that can protect him and his family seems rational to him.

Now let’s take a look at this. They stayed in Canada for a little while after leaving England. Now they are living in L.A. L.A.? L.A.

This.
Ain’t.
About.
Privacy.

They will have about as much privacy in L.A. as two monkeys humping at a zoo. It is what it is.

ESPECIALLY if they plan to do a reality show. Are you kidding me?

Courtesy of dailysoapdish.com

American media can give a flying you-know-what about who Harry is……or was, since essentially, he’s removed them both from that and it they have been stripped of their royal titles.

They left Royalty to come to America and pimp their privacy out for TV, social media, and the very media attention Meghan claims she doesn’t want. Make it make sense, fam.

Where does Harry even fit into all of this? Hollywood and tv is not his thing. That’s Meghan’s world.

In addition to all of this, Meghan’s “world” is in a state that allegedly has some of the worst numbers for cases of coronavirus. How is this a wise decision? I’ll wait….

Meghan is very selfish and self-destructive. She wouldn’t understand the impact being separated from his family has on Harry because she’s estranged from her own family. She gained a family and a place by marrying Harry, and I don’t think she sees or appreciates that. How could she? Dysfunction breeds dysfunction. Now she’s also denying her child that family structure and security from damn-near birth. SMH.

harry and meghan photos
Via The Telegraph

To add to all of this, no way you can be such a strong and outspoken “activist,” but can’t stomach unfavorable media attention. I don’t buy it.

Harry lacks foresight, fortitude, and keen judgment. He needs the close counsel and guidance of elders, because he is about to become the main clown in the sideshow that is part of the larger circus of Hollywood.

I’m aware that Meghan Markle is a sacred cow for many of you, and I’m telling you. . .

This whole situation is a hot mess unfolding.

There will be a Part II to this, quite possibly on my upcoming podcast. So stay tuned for that and follow me on Facebook at A Pen for Loren’s Thoughts.

The Burden of Strength: Letting Go

Awhile ago, I was talking to a friend and she said, “But you’re the strongest person I know.” I used to get that a lot. Can you relate to that? Being the strong friend? The one everyone wants to be more like? Meanwhile, you’re longing for someone to be there to break your fall every once in awhile.

I'm sis

And while I’ve never liked strong as a descriptive word for me, as of late I’ve been actively working toward dismantling the perception.

Here’s the thing: It takes a lot to be “strong.” And many, many times my strength has been my weakness. It’s a double-edged sword, because when you’re weak, either no one cares or they’re waiting to pounce on you. When you’re strong, they say, “Oh, she’ll be alright. She’s the strongest person I know.

I was strong for so long, not because I had no other choice, but because what I believed to be the alternative was not an acceptable way of living for me. I was living in a reality of extremes and saw no in-between.

I didn’t want to be weak. I didn’t want to be pitied.

I wanted compassion, but didn’t know how to access it. In fact, I think a more accurate statement would be that I didn’t know how to receive it. Looking back, perhaps I mistook compassion for pity. Does this sound familiar to you?

When you confuse the two, you will reject compassion as pity every time. You fear pity, because pity makes you feel like a weakling, and you fear being perceived as weak. You begin to overcompensate by being hostile and verbally abrasive when you feel the need to protect yourself. The thing is that you feel this need often, and it’s exhausting. You have to bark loud. It’s how you let people know that you ain’t the one or the two.

The thing is anyone can bark loud and use strong language. What I want for you as a woman to do is fortify your insides by establishing strong boundaries. Then, practice employing those boundaries to protect you from the stress of the physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse you’ve been allowing. Arguing or trying to convince others of your value actually lowers your value. It lets the other party know that your value or boundaries are up for negotiation. But that’s not the case, right? Right. The last thing you want is to have a loud voice and low resolve. That’s weak.

strong black woman

One last thing I want to address. Really, I want to give you permission. Sometimes, just you and your boundaries aren’t enough. Lean on people who care for you. Allow them to be there. A lot of our need as women to feel strong and misconstrue what it means is due to us not having or utilizing our support systems. This is so important when dealing with all types of relationships, including romantic relationships.

When dealing with predators, let the people who love you protect you.

NEVER face a predator alone. If a member of your tribe is not available to face them with you, simply refuse to engage.

Predators will always try to lure you out into the wild ALONE so they can make you prey.

– They want to prey on your heart.

– They want to prey on your psyche.

– They want to prey on your self-esteem.

Sometimes you don’t realize certain relationships are abusive. Pay attention to the feelings you feel about people. No, really pay attention. If you consistently feel proud of yourself for “standing up to” someone. . . . Sis, issa predator. DoπŸ‘ notπŸ‘ faceπŸ‘ themπŸ‘ withoutπŸ‘ loveπŸ‘ andπŸ‘ protectionπŸ‘ presentπŸ‘. OK?

Don’t fall for it, and don’t try to be “strong” by yourself. Let the love and protection of your tribe be your strength.

Love you. πŸ˜˜

love black women

Did you have your own process for letting go of strength in favor of support? Tell us about it in the comments. I love when my readers can learn from each other. And of course, you can always hit that contact button and drop me an email! I want to hear from you. What other topics do you think I should cover on this blog?

I Had To Go Within

For the past 2 months, I have been. . . .quiet, in a place of deep introspection, exploring my inner life and putting the outer on hold. I didn’t exactly plan it. It just kind of happened. Yet, that is the point.

I imperceptibly began to simply listen to my body, my heart, my spirit and let them guide me. When I’ve been tired, I’ve slept. When I wanted quiet, I shut everything off. When I’ve felt inspired, I’ve created. I’ve desperately needed my own company, my own attention, my own affection, and I’ve given myself that.

I’ve created a space, inwardly and outwardly, in which I feel at peace, nourished, affirmed, and my whole self. A space where I feel comfortable and undistracted to commune with myself and God. It’s been an indescribable feeling. A deep knowing. I hadn’t realized how depleted I felt. How much of my delicate, introverted feminine energy had been zapped by things/people outside of me.

So I’ve surrendered my will and impulses to my spirit, which said to take extended rest until the appropriate time. The past few days I have spent loving extra on myself. Making sure my body is hydrated. Putting my fork down when I feel full. Taking extra special care of my skin. Giving my hair some TLC. Satiating my senses with sights, scents, sounds, flavors, and textures that delight and comfort me.

Now that I’m almost feeling full again, I am ready to connect. I said this year would be about relationships. I am currently doing relationship planning. Writing out who want to get closer to, exactly the actions I need to take to make that happen, and how I will hold myself accountable. I’m actually excited to get in deeper with MY people. Cheers to 2019. πŸŽ†

I Don’t Trust Women: Girl, Get Your Life

As we close on 2018, I would really love for the sisterhood to put a few things to rest, not the least of which is the disdain and shade we throw around at other women. Of course, we all have our one or two friends, because “no new friends.” Amirite? It seems women are far more forgiving and trusting of men than we are of each other. I’ve heard this phrase way too many times: “I don’t hang with a lot of women. They can’t be trusted. Most of my friends are men.” πŸ‘€πŸ˜’

This needs to change. So I thought I’d give you all something to ponder.

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But You Check Your Man’s Phone 3x/day πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But All Your Relationships Have Ended Because Of Cheating πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But ALL Your Male “Friends” Have Tried To Hit πŸ‘€πŸ‘€πŸ‘€πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But You’ve Been Physically/Sexually Assaulted In ANY Way By A Man πŸ‘€πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Your Man’s Homeboys Always Trying To Holla Behind His Back πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But In High School You Had A Boyfriend That Was 25, 30 years old πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Your Boyfriend/Baby Daddy Got Three Other Baby Mamas πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Your Man Always Have Something Ugly To Say About His Homies Behind Their Backs πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Men Are Always Trying To Have Sex With You Without Protection πŸ‘€πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Your Ex Left You With Bills And Bad Memories πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But His Homeboys Be Lying For Him About Where He Is Or What He’s Doing πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But They’re The Ones You’re Always Calling To Complain And Cry About Men πŸ‘€πŸ‘€πŸ˜πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But They’re The Ones Watching Your Kids While You Go Ride By Ole Girl House To See If He’s There πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But You Call Them To Take You On A Manhunt In THEIR Car…..So You’re Not Caught Spying πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But They Are Picking You Up To Go Get Your Car From Him!!!! πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

But Your Man Barely/Never Sees or Talks To His Kids πŸ‘€πŸ˜

If You Don’t Trust Women……

And Most Of Your Friends Are Men……

But You’re Always Antsy Because Most Of His Friends Are Women 😐😐😐😐😐

Girl, Get Your ENTIRE Life Together.

On Loss and Feeling Lost

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If you follow me on Facebook, you know that I’m really big on relationships- all kinds.  The most important relationships are family -whether blood-related or chosen- and family relationships can be. . . .complicated.  I wasn’t planning to get this deep so soon on my blog, but here it is.  It happened.

On Monday, my granny passed away.

I knew it was a possibility, but I wasn’t expecting it.  She’d been in nursing homes and residential care homes for awhile now.  Because of limited mobility she needed round-the-clock physical care.  However, as a retired school teacher, her mind was still as sharp as a whip.  I would go and visit her and take my son, too.  I have no pictures, because I live in the moment and hardly ever think to document my every waking moment with photos.  I wish I had.  I nor my son will have any visuals to look back on and remember our time with her.  But we do have memories.

Memories of going to sit with her and just keep her company for an hour or two.  She would send me to get her food and/or snacks because she didn’t like what the nurses prepared for lunch or dinner.

I have memories of going to visit her when she still lived independently.  I would drive an hour to go see her and do her hair. She would always say, “I like your hair.  I want mine like that.  Can you make it look like yours?”  Her hair was thinning, but I’d experiment with twistouts using Carol’s Daughter (her favorite) products or flexirods to get her the natural curly look she wanted.

I have a few unpleasant memories as well. I choose not to talk about those today.  What I do want to address is how all this has affected me in the hopes that it moves someone else, helps someone on their healing journey, or provide clarity for someone in their own familial relationship(s).

Despite the memories I shared above, my granny and I were not close.  Not by a long shot.  The story isn’t unique.  This granny is my dad’s mom, and I didn’t grow up with them in my life.  It wasn’t until I moved to Texas six years ago that I began cultivating a relationship with her.  I’d only known her for a few years, and all my visits up until that point were dutiful.  Once I moved closer and saw that age was taking its toll (plus I’d done some maturing), I decided to begin genuinely building a connection with her.  And I did just that.  I put 28 years of history (as much of it as I could) behind me, because family matters.  And although she is my blood kin, I still had to choose her.

And I did.  My visits were less dutiful, but we all know relationships take work, some more than others.  I knew I would have to actively and intentionally confront and overcome my apathy and lack of urgency where this relationship was concerned.  The bond we formed was rewarding.  Nevertheless, even after six years, I was keenly aware of the effort it took on my part to maintain.  Add to that my busy life and the distance (always at least 40 minutes drive).  It’s been months since I’ve seen her.  So when I saw my brother’s number flashing on my screen after 9 p.m., I knew.

Even so, hearing those words hit me hard.  I’d planned to visit her this weekend.  Now, I’ll never get another opportunity to see her alive, and it hurts.  Logically, there’s this (still) disconnected part of me that feels bad that I hadn’t gotten around to a visit before she passed.  Kind of like that old classmate you kept meaning to phone or send an email to.  Emotionally, I’m hurt.  She was still my granny and I chose her.  Chose to get as close as I did.  I’m not sure what to do with these feelings or where to place them.  While I KNOW I would go to visit her sooner if given another chance, I still can’t say that it would be an urgent matter for me.  And that hurts, too.  I didn’t choose the history (or lack thereof) I have with my granny any more than I could choose the effect it’s had on me.  What I always had a choice in was my own actions.  I held myself to that.  I just wonder if I did the best I could.