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relationship, relationships, love, garden, flowers, parasite, relationships, love, high, sex, 420, high thoughts, weedbethinking

WATER YOUR OWN FUCKING GARDEN: Put an End to Your Parasitic Relationship


So it’s motherfucking Spring bitches and as I do every Spring, I celebrated the occasion by pulling a Hotline Bling: wearing less and going out more.

plus sized, beauty, queen, relationship, relationships, red hair, black girl, woman, brunch, wearing less, going out more
Me at brunch looking like a high Tumblr model in my multicolored “Queen” crop top.

One of these outings included a brunch with some friends over the weekend. While I was sipping on my Shirley Temple, one of my girlfriends told me how her boyfriend decided that he wanted to limit the amount of time they spent together. Of course, we all had the same reaction: dump him, leave him, kick his A-S-S to the C-U-R-B! (I don’t know why I’m acting like my friends are sassy Black women from the ’80s but I’m feeling that vibe right now). Anyway, as we attempted to yelled some sense into my friend, she simply shrank into herself and firmly whispered: “you don’t know what he’s been through.”

It was then that my heart sank. Because I understood what she was going through.

Back When I Watered His Garden

For about three years I was attached to a man who had been through hell and back. His mother died at a young age, his father wasn’t in his life, and he was in and out of jail. This man was the living definition of “a hard ass life.” This hard ass life made him almost emotionally impenetrable. But for some reason, I was able to see past his tough exterior and to his deep core. I saw through his pain and to his fear: I saw his love. He had a kind and beautiful soul.

Over the three years of our tumultuous “relationship” (relationship is in quotation marks because he refused to put a label on it) I helped him grow and take steps to break down the cement that encapsulated his warm heart. He went from calling once a month to once a week, from quick fucks to passionate love making, from telling me his day was “fine” to painting the most elaborate tales of his day. It was beautiful. I was so proud.

I watched him find his smile, thinking that that was enough for me.

So what if he never got me anything for my birthday? So what if he told me he’d never commit to me? So what is he refused to tell me he loved me, no matter how many times I cried those three words to him?

I was so obsessed with his growth and his progress and his gains that I forgot about me. Yes, this man lived a traumatic life that rendered him nearly incapable of loving and trusting another human being the way they deserved, but it was not my place to play the guinea pig. I am not a therapist. I was not getting paid for this. Yet I allowed myself to be sucked dry as I breathed life into this other human being.

Loving him almost cost me my life and I didn’t even realize it until it was almost too late.

But thank God I did. And as I sat at that brunch spot sipping on my Shirley Temple, I stared deep into the eyes of my friend and saw the same pain that lived in my own eyes for so long.

I think that some people in this world are empathizers: we look at someone and completely understand everything that they are going through and then feel like it’s our job to save them. Well I’m here to tell you it’s not your fucking job: unless you are a therapist getting paid mad bank, it is not your fucking job to save anyone.

Lesson Learned

Stop treating people or relationships like projects.

Stop watering someone else’s garden thinking that one day they will grow to water yours back.

Do you know what happens when you water a garden? They become pretty little flowers that give your sweaty, dirty ass allergies. That’s what happens. You’re left tired, aching, and with no one to support you.

Now this is not to say don’t ever help someone you love through a difficult time, not at all. This is to say don’t forget about YOU. Don’t forget that in any relationship there are two people growing together to become a we. Not two people working towards the growth of one person. That’s not fair and it’s not your job. Does someone with a severely fucked up past deserve love? Hell the fuck yes.

But so do you: and if they are not in a place to provide you with the love you deserve, then stop settling for anything less. Love yourself enough to let that person go.

SLIGHT DISCLAIMER: Now, it took me three years to hear that message so I honestly wouldn’t feel right ending this without saying this: YES you have to love yourself enough to let that person go, but also love yourself enough to forgive yourself if you aren’t quite there yet.


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Back up, love, relationships, marriage, advice

The Back Up: Why We Do It and How It’s Fucked Up

The Back Up

One of my old beaux came back into my life recently. The reason we stopped talking was because he never seemed serious. He would tell me how beautiful I was, we would exchange secrets and dreams late into the night, and of course, there was some intercourse. (It was mostly just head and finger bangs but still.) Anyway, every time I asked to make our situationship into something more, I always got answers like “I’m not ready” or “give me some time.” These answers were confusing because they weren’t a “yes” obviously but they also weren’t a no. They were a “let’s wait.” At the time, “let’s wait” sounded like a “I have to work on me before I can be a we” answer. I respected this at first and waited. But after a couple of years (yes I said years) I was tired of waiting so we broke it off.

When he came back into my life it was all “I miss yous” but still no real sense of commitment. And that’s when I realized: I was the backup.

The Definition

The back up is often rooted in good intentions. It’s something that many of us do, actually. Especially if you grew up in a traditional household or have a traditional mindset that tricks you into believing the only way you are whole or the only happy ending you can have lies in marriage. The backup basically means you found the one…for a potential future you. The back up is a guy or girl with everything to offer. They have a good job, they are decently attractive, and they treat you RIGHT. The back up is the type of person you can bring home on holidays and finally silence your nosey ass aunt whose sole purpose on this universe is to spread your singleness about the lands and to note how “wide” you’ve gotten since her last visit.

Yes, the back up is the perfect person to spend the rest of your life with…except they don’t make your heart jump.

You like them enough, sure, but you don’t want to shout it from the rooftops. A light whisper maybe but the feelings are minuscule. And as fucked up as it may be you don’t want to let them go completely.

Why Are We Like This?

Growing up surrounded by traditional Caribbean parents as well as television programs and movies that pushed the traditional romantic ending down my throat I get it. That shit sticks with you. And no matter how independent and successful you may be, there will always be that little voice reminding you: you will never be whole without a significant other. This same little voice is the one that keeps you from letting go of that individual who’s perfect on paper but not warming your soul. It crawls into your ear and whispers all the what if’s. What if you don’t find someone else? What if this person is meant for the future you? What if someone else takes what could potentially be your happy ending?

Sure, you’re not ready for marriage now. You’re still twenty or thirty something: the world is still your oyster! But when you finally reach that place everyone always talks about, the place where you’ve done all the things you set out to do and tried all the foods and dicks you wanted to try, it’d be nice to have someone to tell all those things to and as they say, “settle down with.” And right now this person-your back up-seems like a great option.

The Lesson

The back up is a bullshit concept but it’s one rooted in our own creation. Yes that man may satisfy a future you but if he doesn’t satisfy you now girl let that man GO! Don’t hang someone on a proverbial shelf with the hope that you can use them later as not only does it hurt them but in the long run it hurts you too.

Instead of keeping people on reserve we need to instead attempt to unlearn this fucked up mentality that we need someone else to be whole.

Or that our happy ending will only come once we are married. You are your second half. You are whole as you are right now. Let’s internalize that instead.




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butt, anal, erotic, honesty, sex, nsfw, weed, blog

Honesty Is Anal in a Relationship

Honesty and Anal: an Introduction

Over the weekend I went on a date. Today’s Cupid Meets Fish date was 6 feet and three inches full of lewd and disrespectful comments wrapped up in an emoji shrug and a slick “I’m just being honest.” I nodded and smiled, making the decision to give him a sip of that same honest-tea, something he certainly was not prepared to drink. As disgusted as I was by this individual’s personality, it got me thinking about this seemingly pious thing we call ”honesty” especially when it comes to relationships. I noted something:

We can learn a lot about how honesty works if we just analyze anal sex in a traditional vanilla relationship.

I know it may seem odd or vulgar to compare the two but they are actually one in the same when it comes to relationships. Understanding the mechanics of anal sex will set you up for a successfully honest relationship whether it’s friends with benefits or your forever boo. So let’s do it! Let’s have some anal!

Anal Sex

“Come on baby, it’ll feel good, I promise.” Mr. Everyman snuggled up tighter to his boo, his rock hard pecker digging into her right butt cheek as it tried to find her middle.

She rolled over so her rear end was protected by the embrace of the mattress.

“Not tonight,” she murmured for the umpteenth time. “Let’s just get some sleep…”

Mr Everyman and his boo are not having anal.

Honesty: it’s craved in a relationship by one or both parties but depending on the level of trust in each individual, it may not always be received.

When both parties go into the relationship with the mindset that they are not going to be receiving and/or giving honesty, the relationship does not work. This may seem like a very obvious statement but in our current culture, a lot of individuals carry a mindset that “males aren’t shit” or that “females are bitches” thinking no one is to be trusted, to the point where a relationship starts off a lot like that movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith: everyone lying and/or believing the other party is lying.

It’s 1 am on a Friday night and Mr. Everyman and his boo are filled with drinks and laughs from dinner with their friends. He decides to shoot his shot. He slobbers wet kisses all over her neck, supple breast, and stomach.

“Let’s make tonight special…” he murmurs between drunken pecks on her body.

She shrugs. Tequila always makes her freaky so fuck it, she thinks, allowing Mr. Everyman to fumble her purple panties off her booty.

But Mr. Everyman gets too excited, loving the tight hole a little too much, shoving himself inside her a little too hard…

Mr Everyman is only servicing himself.

Honesty isn’t always a good thing especially when it’s self serving.

Self serving honesty looks a lot like that date I had, where he had no regard for my feelings and just said how he felt when he felt it for himself. This type of honesty isn’t about mutual understanding. It’s just one person wanting his or her surroundings to be comfortable to them at any cost. Honesty like this hurts and it’s a pain that does not get better because instead of the other individual opening up, they close off even more, so you are basically jamming your dick or dildo into a clenched asshole which may feel fine to you because you’re gunna get in there anyway but feels brutal for the other party.

The Best Anal Sex

Mr. Everyman cuddles up with his boo. He slides his lube covered tip around her asshole, teasing her. It feels good so she inches back towards him: a little moan let’s him know she’s ready. His tip kisses the side of her round bun one more time before finding her creamy middle. He shudders with excitement, her insides were practically begging for him…

The best anal sex is the type of anal where both parties are fully invested and want to do it with each other. Both individuals are ready to listen to each other’s bodies and provide/receive the penetration with the other partner in mind.

Honesty only works in a relationship when there is mutual trust and effort.

This is not to say you have to wait six months until you fully trust the person to engage in honesty. Honesty can start from that first encounter, that first text message. But both parties must be thinking about the other person’s feelings and have a mindset where they trust that everything being said was said from a place that took those feelings into account. Honesty, like anal penetration, is hard to take but only when there’s no trust behind it ( pun intended). If you tell me you hate my hair (as my date had told me) but you are thinking about my feelings and me as an individual, you’re going to choose words that tell me you hate my hair but also let me know that you are providing me feedback and not just shitting on me. Honesty that is done correctly may sting here and there but ultimately it feels good and will be a healthy part of your relationship.


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Should we treat ourselves like we treat our favorite food?


Should we treat ourselves like we treat our favorite food?


And here’s why:

So I’m sitting at home in my underwear munching on chocolate covered almonds after a very odd date. I don’t even know if I can call it a date…it was more like, an encounter. So I met this loser on OKCupid and he was all let’s go out, let’s go out, blah blah blah. Day of (today) he’s like, we’ll grab something to eat around me. So I park the car a few blocks away from his location and go to meet him there. We meet and I say, where are we headed? He says, let’s walk.

So we proceed to walk….a silent(ish), awkward(ish) walk…in the direction of my car. “Oh we’re not going to get coffee or something?” I ask. “Yeah, yeah” he says as we get closer to my car. He then “gets a call” where he tells the individual on the other line that he will be “home soon.” So I say “Alright” and he says “have a nice day!” And he heads on off.

This man met up with me. To drop me off. At my car.

Now as I sat in my vehicle sucking on my vape all I could think was, what the fuck was that?! So I start going down a list of all the possible things that could be wrong with me that he could have witnessed in that fifteen minute encounter to have warranted such an abrupt end.

Then it hits me: I (and you-we) should treat ourselves the way we treat our favorite food.

So one of my favorite foods are these yummy chocolate covered almonds I just devoured. Let’s say you offer these almonds to a friend: you want to share this delightful treat with someone else. This person says “I don’t like em” naturally your reaction is surprise: “what that’s crazy, these are the best!” You insist. “Nah, not a fan.” Your friend replies. So, you leave it at that. “Your loss” you shrug and continue to eat that yummy snack.

Now, let’s say you’re like me and always think you’re right. You’re gunna argue with this person “hey man, chocolate covered almonds are the best and here’s all the reasons why. What makes you not like them?!” you ask. “They’re too chocolatey or they’re too almondy or I don’t like sweets” your buddy responds. And with that, you shrug your shoulders and keep it moving. (We’re gunna call your friend Bob)

Your love for chocolate covered almonds didn’t decrease because Bob said he didn’t like them. You didn’t suddenly hate how chocolatey the almonds were because bitch ass Bob had a problem with them. You like how chocolatey it is. It’s not “too chocolatey ” it’s just right. And you didn’t try to make the almonds less chocolatey to get Bob to like them. You didn’t get them to be less sweet or less almondy you just counted it to Bob’s loss.

And you know what else you didn’t do? You didn’t stop offering it to those you wanted to try it just because Bob didn’t like it.

So why do we do it to ourselves?

Why is it that when we find out someone doesn’t like our hair suddenly we feel weird about our hair?

Why is it that if someone comments on our body suddenly we are considering altering our bodies?

Why is it that when one person rejects us we decide , you know what, I’m not even gonna bother any more.

Why the hell do we keep trying to feed the Bobs of the world our fucking nuts?!

We need to treat ourselves like we treat our favorite food. Have conviction in the things that make us awesome. Believe that we are awesome and stay believing it no matter what anyone else thinks.

Because just like our favorite food we will find that person that says omg I love chocolate covered almonds.


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