The Swirl World

Celebrating and Elevating Black Women - mind, body, soul and spirit!


Why I Refuse to Give Up

By 3 Comments

I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I’m here to stay and make the difference that I can make

~from I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz

Have you ever had anyone do something mean, malicious, or spiteful to you – all with the express purpose of sabotage? What about suffering at the hands of people who know they’re engaging in hurtful behaviors – those lovely people who are so selfish and self-centered that other people’s feelings obviously don’t matter? And by all means, let’s not forget what President Franklin D. Roosevelt termed “the vicissitudes of life;” you know, the hardships, bad breaks, and unfortunate circumstances that arise just as a result of being a member of the human race.

Things happen. I get that. Crappy, disgusting, and even heartbreaking things happen. I totally get that.

Some of these things are so crappy, disgusting, and heartbreaking that it seems the sole purpose for the events even occurring is to make you wash your hands of people/life, say “To heck with it!” and go live somewhere on a deserted island far, far away.

Well, guess what? It’s at those times, my friend, that I’m even more determined to keep swimming against the tide and moving forward.

When I was much younger, my personal mantra was, “I’d rather die than cry.” Many of you know about my background as a military brat. As a child, my life was always in flux, and it was nothing to change three schools in one year. I was forever the new kid on the block and constantly had to prove myself to both students and teachers. I encountered racism at a very early age, and my Dad drilled in my brothers and me to never let anyone intimidate us.

That “refuse to be intimidated” mindset carried over into my adulthood, and I can safely say that this mentality is as much a part of me as my name.

So, want me to shine and really show you what I know or what I can do? Want to make me try harder, excel in my endeavors, and otherwise bring life to the saying “Living well is the best revenge?”

Then try to intimidate me.

Want me to dig my heels in the sand, refuse to be dissuaded or moved, and day “Pffft!” to your face?

Then by all means, attempt to bully me.

I learned this week that I face very strong opposition to my advocacy of diversity. Not just strong opposition, but hateful opposition to my message regarding what I believe is the the necessity of Black women opening their minds and hearts to interracial dating, interracial relationships, and interracial marriage.

I’m not speaking of the opposition that comes from some paternalistic, misogynistic, “Power to the People” idiot spouting his hatred for “the man” in a Facebook thread. No; it goes deeper than that brand of petty, juvenile foolishness. I’m speaking of the kind of opposition that attempts to shut down my platform, and thus ultimately silence my voice.

Whelp, it ain’t gonna work.

You see, I don’t just believe in my message of diversity in relationship options, I live my message, and I want other Black women to do the same.    

I don’t want Black women to wither on the vine while waiting for a mate of a particular color or ethnicity – one who may never show up. Instead, I want Black women to come to the realization that they can thrive in the garden of love because in that garden, there’s an entire array of offerings they can select from.

And there you have it.

I refuse to give up, because the message of the viability of interracial dating and marriage options for Black women is much too important.

I refuse to give up, because I know my cause is greater than any jack-leg who wants me to stop.

I refuse to give up, because how can you truly believe in something (or someone) that you’re not willing to fight for?

I refuse to give up – because I’m just getting started.

Join in the Fray: What do you refuse to give up on?

Copyright © 2012 Michelle Matthews Calloway, All rights reserved.

It’s a Wrap! (and, It’s an Update)

By 4 Comments

Image

Whew! Last night I finally submitted my dissertation proposal for general review. I have to get pre-approval from the board of reviewers at my school before they forward it to the Institutional Review Board (IRB). I won’t bore you with the details, but I will say that the submission represents a huge milestone in my quest to earn a PhD. They may kick it back for one minute reason or the other, but I don’t expect any major objections. Update to follow when I hear back . . . . 

And speaking of updates, a little more than year has passed since I blogged regularly. (Thanks to all of you who called, texted, emailed, Tweeted, or Facebooked me to check on me; I appreciate the love!).  

In 2011 I semi-moved back to Louisiana, made it through my comprehensive exams, nurtured both my parents through multiple hospital stays, made it “through the water and through the flames,” and reinvented myself yet again. Needless to say, all of that took time and energy away from blogging. I’m happy to report that I’m back  with a vengeance! I’m ready to once again share my musings on life, love, swirling, diversity, and everything in-between. I love working out and I’m trying to eat healthier, so I’ll also share those experiences as I dabble into the vegetarian/vegan/raw foods lifestyle.  (Notice I said “dabble.” Seafood will always be on the menu, and I refuse to kill the carnivore residing in me. Just sayin’).  

Anyway, my fellow Swirlers, stay tuned for rants, raves, and craves. I live life out loud! This Swirl Girl is traveling through the swirl world and loving every minute of it. 

 Until my next post, enjoy this dark little ditty by the awesome Justin Nozuka. Feel free to share your “water and flames” moments. 

 

Do You Believe in Magic?

By 2 Comments

shareasimageCouple

If you believe in magic, come along with me
We’ll dance until morning ’til there’s just you and me
And maybe, if the music is right
I’ll meet you tomorrow, sort of late at night
And we’ll go dancing, baby, then you’ll see
How the magic’s in the music and the music’s in me . . . .

~John Sebastian of The Lovin’ Spoonful

This past weekend I had the occasion to participate in a girl’s weekend with a couple of good friends (I’ll call them *Shay and *Rochelle). We commiserated on life, love, and relationships all within the context of growing older and wiser.

Our discussion of relationships was a big part of the conversation.

“Do you believe in soul mates?” Rochelle asked.

She and Shay had already discussed the concept but she wanted my take on the matter.

“Define ‘soul mate’” I said cautiously. “I just want to be sure we’re on the same page.”

Rochelle went on to ask, “Do you believe that in this entire world, with all the people in it, that there is one person who is totally and completely right for you? Not that you and he would have never not have any problems if you got together, because some things are just a part of life – but do you believe that out of all the people in the world, you’re supposed to be with him and he’s supposed to be with you – and that’s what makes him your soul mate?”

This definition was pretty much what I’d expected. Of course I’ve had this conversation dozens of times over the course of my life, and I marveled at the difference in what I believed when I was a mere girl in high school and college, and what I believed now as a widow with some major life drama and trauma under her belt.

“I have to say , no, I don’t believe there’s only one person for you in the whole wide world, and that if you don’t marry him or her then you haven’t married your soul mate “ I said. “I believe, of course, that some people make better marriage partners than others. Even so, given enough time, mutual willingness, and desire, I believe that two people can become soul mates.

I thought some more. “Maybe I’m too pragmatic but I see relationship building as more practical than magical.”

Rochelle gave me great food for thought. She stated that her concept of soul mates is predicated on a principle of “good, better, best.” In other words, a certain man would be good for you; another one would be better, and yet another would be best – and that the best was more than likely your soul mate.

Shay, Rochelle and I kicked around a variety of scenarios, swapped stories regarding people we knew who appeared to be soul mates, and also discussed potential what ifs. When the conversation was all said and done we pretty much agreed that love rests on choices – whether you feel a sense of “magic” or not.

The choice begins with whom you elect to date, and why. I dare say a woman who is unhappy with her present state of circumstances and driven by desperation will make different relationship choices than one who is content with her life and prepared to wait until she finds what she deems suitable companionship.

“Suitable companionship” is subjective on a variety of levels; what is scorned by some is embraced by others. Some believe those who enter the realm of interracial dating fall into the “desperate” category while others classify swirlers as simply being people who are a bit more open-minded in the relationship department.

Whether desperate or content; open or closed-minded; idealistic or pessimistic, I believe that on some level we all believe in the magic of love. By “magic of love” I mean the belief that we will meet and find someone we will love and who will love us back; someone we will be true to and who will be true to us.

We keep hope alive that we will find the person we are willing to be there for in good times and bad, healthy or otherwise; and who will be there for us in the same way. Regardless of the exterior package he or she is wrapped in, that person will be someone with whom we can build a lasting relationship, and with whom we can live our best life.

Yes, I believe in magic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o89iKsKw19M

*Names changed to protect the guilty

Join in the fray:

Do you believe in magic?

Conversation 101

By 4 Comments

Venus (very wistfully): “Don’t you miss me?”

Mars (very practically): “Oh, sure. But I’m going to see you in two weeks, so what’s the big deal? I don’t want to focus on missing you and then get all down in the dumps and depressed. And, you’ll be here in two weeks, so . . . “(verbal shrug)

Venus (a tad bit whiney; giving him a chance to redeem himself): “Well I know that, but . . . .  “

Mars (puzzled and clueless; totally not getting it): “Well, ok then? But what?”

Venus (very clipped, cold tone): “But nothing. Fine.”

Mars (recognizing that things are now not fine but wondering how and why): “Huh?”

[Sidebar: Why is Mars so totally clueless??? Why can’t he read between the lines? Why does Venus have to spell everything out to him???]

*_*

Deep breath.

Now, it goes without saying that here on planet Venus, Mars’ practical thought patterns and speech has at least 50 things wrong with it, but I’ll tickle-me-E.L.M.O. and spare you.

I know that some counselors and psychologists dispute or even reject the Men are from Mars – Women are from Venus philosophy, but I believe in it. Very strongly.

SM is from Mars.

My wonderful, darling, upbeat, positive, big-picture-seeing, positive-thinking, “I’m-ok-it’s-ok-yes-I-miss-you-but-I’m-not-sweating-it-because-I’ll-see-you-in-two-weeks-and-I’m-clueless-anyway-so-I-don’t-understand-your-need-to-hear-that-I-miss-you fiancé. Gotta love him.

I’m definitely from Venus.

His wonderful, darling, upbeat, positive, see-the-romance-in-everything, positive-thinking, “I-know-we’ll-see-each-other-in-two-weeks-you-big-jerk-I-just-want-you-to-tell-me-you-miss-me-and-whisper-sweet-nothings-in-my-ear-and-I’m-embarassed-because-I-want-that-from-you-and-disappointed-that-I’m-not-getting-it-and-wish-you-would-GET-A-CLUE fiancée. Gotta love me. (cheezin).

[Sidebar: How is it that when it comes to Mars’ and Venus’ conversations such disconnect exists between what Mars doesn’t hear even when Venus doesn’t say it? Is it that hard? Really??]

Though that particular conversation ended there, Mars and Venus kept talking. Many conversations and recriminations later, Mars and Venus both got a clue and arrived at a better understanding of each other’s thought processes.

Venus now understands that Mars isn’t a mind reader and can’t really know what she wants until/unless she articulates better, so she’s working on that. She’s learning that it’s ok to ask for what she wants, and that it’s really unfair to expect Mars to “just know” what she wants and needs. Venus is also learning that directness and practicalities have their place – even in conversation – and that she shouldn’t take it personally when Mars can’t see the romantic forest because he’s being practical and looking at the trees.

And Mars? He is now looking online for mind-reading classes and just picked up a book entitled How to Get a Clue: 10 Things Men Better Learn about Women. Gotta love him!

Join in the fray:

Are you Camp Mars – or Camp Venus?

A Dog’s Life

By 4 Comments

Hello everybody! Last week MiMi finally mentioned me. I know she did, because I’ve been keeping up. She’s talked about her friend Zee and some guys she went to college with, and she’s talked incessantly about her SM *_*

(When you see me go *_* it means I’m either rolling my eyes or giving you a blank stare).

MiMi talked about all of them, but had yet to mention me. My name is Nibbles, and until SM came along I was probably the most important guy in her life. (Well, other than her Dad. Or her brothers. Or her roommate/godchild, my Uncle Gus). It’s not enough for her to get engaged to SM – no, she has to write about him every week. *_*

Well, since MiMi finally decided to at least mention me, I decided it’s time for me to tell my side of the story. (By the way, her name is A Swirl Girl to you, but she’s MiMi to me. A dog’s gotta have something. Get over it.)

As I said, my name is Nibbles. I’m MiMi’s little Shih Tzu puppy. (I’ll be eight years old in November so technically I’m a dog, but MiMi tells everybody I’m just a “little bitty baby.” I would have a problem with that, but it helps her defend me when I get in trouble with Uncle Gus, or when I’m being deliberately rude and bark at SM. *_*

Here’s a picture of me:

Like I said, I was the light of her life until SM came along. Let me tell you about THAT:

We were at home and life was fine. It was just MiMi, Uncle Gus, and me when all of a sudden I noticed that MiMi was on the phone a whole lot. I mean, a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT. You see, MiMi is in school and she rarely has time to talk a whole lot to anyone other than Nana and Pop and Uncle Gus and her BFF Auntie Jacque and Auntie K and sometimes her friends Karen and Zee, but all of a sudden she was talking to this SM character A WHOLE LOT. I don’t even know when she met him, but suddenly she was talking to him ALL THE TIME – sometimes really late at night when she should have been doing her homework. I really didn’t like it because when they talked he would make her laugh really LOUD – so loud that she would wake me up and scare me! I mean, what guy is THAT funny? I hear that girls really like guys who make them laugh, but really???

I could tell MiMi liked him a lot because she spent more time talking to him than she did anyone else. She even got this special ring tone for him on her phone so she would immediately know when he was calling! Man, she picked this song that’s just as dorky as I bet he is:

youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tN_HVup9oOg

I mean, why not pick a real song, like What’s My Name by Rihanna, Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson, or even Moment 4 Life by that scary Nicki Minaj girl?

*_*

Me and Uncle Gus watch BET when MiMi isn’t home, and they play a lot of cool songs and music videos that she probably wouldn’t approve of . . . .

Um, have you met E.L.M.O.?

Anyway, they talked and talked and talked and then the next thing I knew he was coming over!!!! To our house!!! To meet Uncle Gus and take MiMi out!!!!  On a DATE!!!!!

*_*

When he got here, I barked and barked and BARKED! He tried to warm up to me and pet me and stuff, but I wasn’t having it. Do you know when he came over for their first date he actually had a bag of gourmet dog treats in his hand???? Most guys would have brought flowers or something, but SM knew how much MiMi loves me so he brought something for me. Man, you would have thought he came with three dozen roses! I could tell he scored a lot of brownie points with that move. I heard MiMi tell Auntie Jacque about it later, and she was telling her that when SM did that it demonstrated how “sensitive” and “in tune with her” he was. *_*

What a sell out! I mean, what guy does that????

*_*

MiMi let him open the bag and give me the treats. Man, those treats smelled sooo good . . . . beef and cheese! My favorites! I didn’t want to, but I let him pet me so I could eat some of those treats. And yes, he really was a dork, just like I thought. He kept saying, “Here Buddy! Come on, Buddy!” I wanted to keep barking at him and tell him, “My name is NOT Buddy, my name is NIBBLES!” but I let him make it because the treats were so good.

And did I tell you how he looks? He’s very tall, with this pale skin that’s the same color as some of the people at that place where I go to get my shots or get groomed. He wears nice clothes, I guess, but he sure doesn’t dress as good as my Uncle Gus – my Uncle Gus has style! I would tell you about how SM can’t dress but my Uncle Gus can tell you better than me. Sometimes Uncle Gus makes jokes and teases MiMi about SM’s lack of fashion sense. MiMi just says “fashion isn’t everything” (but she still cracks up laughing)! Sometimes Uncle Gus really gets on a roll making jokes about the way SM dresses and MiMi laughs so hard she can’t breathe. (I think she’s planning to write a blog about it.)

When SM brought her home from their date I decided to bark like I was losing my mind. I didn’t want her to let him kiss her good night so I barked and barked and BARKED. I think I rattled her and I sure ran him off – he was down the steps and on the sidewalk before she could say “Hitch!”

In spite of all that SM still came back the next night. Not only that, he comes back all the time! He keeps bringing me really good treats, takes me out for nice long walks, and even picks up after me when I potty. He seems determined to prove to MiMi that he likes me, and even tries to act like he wants me around. He keeps saying really corny stuff to her like “I love you and I love Nibbles too,” and “Nibbles is ‘our’ dog.”

*_*

WHAT. EVER! MiMi was mine first and I’m gonna keep it that way! I’m not gonna roll over (well, I do, but only ‘cause I like having my tummy rubbed). Ahem. I’m not gonna roll over for some no-dressing-pale-face-dorky-smart-guy!

Gourmet treats or not, I’m not gonna accept him!

*_*

Watching BET with Uncle Gus has really paid off, because I learned about something called “blocking.” I try to squeeze in between SM and MiMi every time he comes over and they sit on the sofa, and when he starts kissing her you’d better believe I make high-pitched whining noises. That stops them every time, because MiMi just laughs and laughs and laughs and thinks it’s really funny when I do that. I notice that SM doesn’t laugh nearly as hard as MiMi does, so I know it must be working.

I forgot to tell you this: There’s a Bark Park across the street and one time SM walked me over there. I pulled a fast one on him and jerked away from him when we were crossing the street. My plan was to run down the street as fast as I could and shake him up but good. Man, when I jerked away my leash popped out of his hand and I took off running so fast I thought he was gonna faint! It was a great plan . . . except that I almost got hit by a car. That wouldn’t have been good for him, and it definitely wouldn’t have been great for me.

*_*

Sigh.

Even though so far all my plots to run SM off haven’t worked, I’m gonna keep planning and plotting and barking. Eventually I’ll figure out how to get rid of him. Man, I was in some high cotton before SM came along, but when he’s around I just live a dog’s life! Can any of you out there help a puppy out?

Join in the fray:

Make a comment and give Nibbles some ideas!

Hitch Kiss

By 9 Comments

My friend Zee (the one who asked about baby knuckles) recently changed her dating status to “in a relationship,” and both of us are pretty sure he just may be the one. I won’t go into to all the reasons why both of us (including her BFF) think this guy is a keeper. Suffice it to say that he’s a perfect gentleman and has shown such consistency in all the major areas that Zee is pretty sure he’s the genuine article.

What she found particularly endearing very early on is the fact that he never tried to “force” a kiss on her. Not that she’s averse to a first or second-date kiss, mind you, but she LOVED the fact that Mr. Gentleman wasn’t pushy.

“Did you and SM kiss on the first date?” Zee asked.

Her question gave me pause – and made me blush.

“Ahh . . . well . . . .no, not the first date . . . ” I stumbled.

“All right, spill it!” she said triumphantly.

“Well, what had happened was . . . .”

Sidebar: [Whenever anyone says, “What had happened was . . .” then just know you’re in for a doozy].

I was living in Dallas at the time. SM had surprised me with a Friday night cooking class at Central Market. The class was for Louisiana cuisine (I know; thoughtful, right?) and attendees ate the meal they cooked. Afterward he escorted me to a co-worker’s 70’s birthday party waaaaay across town. We’d had a wonderful evening with a lot of conversation and laughs, and we felt comfortably at ease with each other. He’d been divorced for five years and hadn’t dated much; I’d been widowed for even longer than that and hadn’t dated much either.

He saw me to my door at the end of the date. Inside, my Shih Tzu Nibbles was going berserk, barking up a storm and pretty much embarrassing me. I saw my roommate peeping thorough a crack in the curtain with a grin so wide I could see all 32. And me? I stood there and tried to remember the scene from the movie Hitch, where Hitch tries to school his hapless client on the art of kissing after a date.

I closed my eyes. Was I supposed to lean in to him??? Was he supposed to lean in to me??? If he leaned first, was I supposed to follow – or was I supposed to meet him halfway? Was he supposed to lean first??? Wasn’t he supposed to follow my lead???? Or was I supposed to follow his lead???? Doesn’t the girl set the pace for a gentleman??? Was I supposed to pucker first, or was he??? It was our first date – was I even supposed to be puckering???? Nibbles, SHUT UP!!! I can’t think!!!! What did Hitch say the woman was supposed to do???

I finally decided to pucker and lean in first . . . and  . . . felt nothing but air. When I opened my eyes, SM had already bounded down the steps and was on the sidewalk – almost to his car. He looked stricken.

“G’nite . . . “he waved shyly. “I’ll stand here till you go in the house. And, uh, I’ll call you.”

I was floored. And mortified beyond belief.

“Good night!” I choked.

And dropped my keys. Picked them up – then dropped my purse.

Needless to say, I couldn’t get into the house fast enough. I stood there, waiting and hoping that the floor swallowed me up or I died from shame – I didn’t care which one came first.

I stood numbly as Nibbles jumped up and down on my skirt and registered on some level that he was ripping my brand new hose . . . but I was too embarrassed to care.

My roommate was on the floor, howling with laughter.

Zee was, too.

“You were literally standing there thinking about that movie Hitch???!!! Are you kidding me???”

Thankfully, SM did call me the next day, and he even showed up (we had already planned in advance to go out on both Friday and Saturday night).

We had a wonderful dinner and marveled at how much we liked each other.

“Man, I was wondering if you really liked me – the way our date ended last night was very weird” he said.

(The best defense is a good offense, right?)

“I know!” I exclaimed. “What in the world was wrong with you????”

He said I acted weird – and of course I said it was him. I had to tell him about Hitch, and I think that was the hardest I’d seen him laugh since we’d met. We came away with a great story to tell our grandkids-and my friend Zee appreciates her new beau even more.

And thankfully, we had our last first kiss.

Join in the fray:

Do you have an embarrassing date story? Leave a comment and tell me about it!