B*****s No More

We must love ourselves, ladies!

 

 

B*****s No More

 

 

I don’t mean in a “She’s nothin’ but a trick a*s b***h!” way from a line out of an unimaginative rap artist’s mouth. 

 

I don’t mean constantly complaining about the no good men in your lives.  Either drop the problem or wallow in the drama.

 

I mean women sticking together.  There’s nothing sweeter than a group of women talking about the wonderful things in their lives.  Beaming with pride about their children, whom they adore and not trying to dump off on a relative.  Before, a group of women together was a sure sign that gossip was in the air. 

 

We are evolving.  No more do we have to look down our noses at another woman who looks good.  We need not pick our fellow sister apart from her hair down to her shoes.  We are much better then that.

 

Case in point: A few days ago, a woman got on a train sitting across from me.  She had her outfit tight.  Cream colored rabbit jacket, matching hat and boots.  She kept checking her cell phone and she knew she was looking good.  I admit, I was in hater mode, wondering who she thought she was with her blonde weave.  She looked at me and complemented me on my leather outfit.  I was touched, and felt foolish.  She pointed out how I had my long leather coat and pants and that my knock-off pocketbook was killing her.  Of course, it was my turn to reciprocate on her outfit, especially telling her about her hair.  “Girl, it’s a weave!” she tried to dismiss and with a straight face, I told her that I didn’t believe her.  We didn’t need a man telling us something we already knew, but it felt so good to get recognized by one of my own.  I got off the train with pep in my step, and even a bunch of collage frat boys trying to hit on me couldn’t come close to matching the elation.

 

So, we need not be b*****s anymore.  When you see your fellow woman looking nice, compliment her.  When she walks out of the ladies room with tissue stuck on the bottom of her heel, pull her aside and tell her.  When your fellow sister calls you and needs a shoulder to cry on when her son gets locked up, don’t put her on hold and call someone else to spread the news.  Be there for her, as you would want her to be there for you. 

 

And by the way, being called a “Fine B***h!” isn’t a complement.  Educate the misinformed person by telling him or her that you don’t have four legs and don’t pee on fire hydrants.  You’re a lady, a woman, a Miss, Mrs., or Ms. 

 

But you’re nobody’s b***h.

Reviews

[Lee E. Powell]

Awesome! I'm not that great with writing reviews, but I really liked this... Pretty cool!