Girl Talk: We have all been there. At work, at school, on vacation, on the subway, at home, at the store, at the gym, anywhere, someone (typically a man) has said something that, for some reason, ran through the filter of their brain but still made it out of their mouth. I cannot speak for the entire female population (because I am not a man) but I typically respond at first, and then sink into a black hole of despair, close my mouth, widen my eyes, and internally scream since (a) the person rarely realizes their mistake and (b) I know I am going to hear the same shit again tomorrow. In an attempt to save myself (and hopefully others), here is a list of things that I am tired of hearing.
To some, the prospect of a black man dating a white woman leads to a highly valuable commodity. Single-handedly, or should I perhaps say through holding hands, my relationship ends racism. People believe that our relationship is an indicator of living in a post-racial world but that very assumption goes against that very ludicrous statement. If we truly lived in such a world, my race nor his race would matter. Yet it does, significantly. Surprisingly, (sarcasm) to people who are not even a part of it.
I then vowed to myself that I would not buy a new book until I have read all the books that I own (I have a bad habit of buying new books before reading my other books and they then become forgotten place-holders on my shelf).
Greek-orthodox is one of the most refined and strictest religions out there, and my grandma is the most religious person I know; making it only natural for me to cause a disruption in her most sacred haven: church. My mother would bring my siblings and I a few minutes before Communion would start because she knew our limited capacity to behave ourselves there. I was feeling under the weather, but having no choice, I found myself at church that Sunday morning.
The magical moment of a first kiss is a memory that will most likely last longer than the relationship it entailed. A combination of butterflies floating in your stomach along with the sparks of your lips meeting; at least that is what you believe you feel until you kiss another. I was in the park with my soon to be boyfriend, soon to be ex-boyfriend, sitting on the bleachers chatting and watching two dogs roam through the green fields. We decided that we wanted to have a romantic walk through the bicycle trail so I began to step down the bleachers, until he stopped me and I was facing him directly one bleacher below him. The moment I so desperately dreaded finally arrived and our lips touched.
You pass her in the hallway, think nothing of her, the same way she thinks about herself. Her hair is
A while ago I wrote a poem entitled, “Are You Okay?” and shared it with my boyfriend as it was a