Not Looking for Mr. Goodbar and Why I Refuse to Play the Relationship Game

On October 15, 2013October 15, 2013 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Abuse, African American Queen, African Goddess, Brickbats, Broken Hearts, cacophony, Carnal, DeBorah, Dissonance, Domestic Violence, Ethiopian Goddess, Fantasy, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Hook-Up, Intellectualism, Jesus, Loss, Lost Souls, Love, Menopause, Nirvana, profane, Redemption, Refuge, Rejection, Rescue, Sacred, Sanctuary, Shinnyo-en Buddhism, soul, Spirit, Spirituality, Stereotypes, Suffering, Surrealism, Wisdom, Woman3 Comments

Not Looking for Mr. Goodbar and Why I Refuse to Play the Relationship Game

Carnival Cruise 2004 — 2004 Carnival Cruise

Me, Myself and I

http://youtu.be/kw02oX3_uC8

Long ago and far away when I was in my 20’s and 30’s my Aunts on both my mother’s and father’s side were on my back about being married despite the fact that nearly all of them were either divorced or separated. I can still hear their voices, “Deborah you need to learn how to cook so you can get a husband.” All my Aunts on both sides were good cooks yet none were with their husbands! It got to the point that when my maternal grandmother Hattie Banks passed away in 1990 the aunt my grandmother had lived with introduced me to my grandmother’s Pastor as my 31 year old single niece from New York. This caused my grandmother’s Pastor great concern and he asked to speak to me privately. He began to question me concerning my singleness. After a while I figured out he was trying to ascertain as to whether or not I was a lesbian! I assured him that No I was not gay just had not met the right person. Now over twenty years later I realize his fears and opinions reflect a lot about people born and raised in the 1900’s within the confines of rigid Baptist teachings.

Fast forward to 2007 when my abuser finally left me and I finally felt free to confide in certain females whom I thought were my friends. I found that to be a big mistake. Women often don’t support other women who have been through the wringer. Too much Blame the Victim mentality out there. Then there is the other side of the coin with women pushing newly single women back into the shark infested waters of the dating game. Amazing how many insensitive and snarky comments I received about either not wanting to date or taking a break from dating.

I’ve had close friends yell and scream at me for my decision not to date. As a result I’ve had to ask these girlfriends not to bring up that topic. All the while I listen to them whine, moan, bitch and complain about what the latest boyfriend is doing to them. These women imagine there is a Mr. Right for everyone or that I’d want that person. They’ve bought into the mentality that a Woman is not complete without a man. They are brainwashed with that fantasy of John and Martha running to each other’s open arms on white sand beaches or in a meadow filled with fragrant flowers and four leaf clovers.

I do not lack male attention. As one of my supervisors at work likes to say, Ms. Palmer you have many admirers. Trust me when I say I wish many of them would find some other woman to admire. Whether on the job or in my neighborhood I’m always polite and mannerly but I always keep things platonic and on the friends side of the relationship spectrum.

I do admit that since the break-up with my ex- and during the few times I’ve dated since then I’ve engaged in battles of self-hatred self-destruction. I was participating in an online group for Domestic Violence Survivors. I was really saddened to see how emotionally bankrupt many of the women were.

Because so many years have passed since I was delivered from my Ex- I was able to be a source of encouragement to women still suffering. A few Friended me or Subscribe to my page and my goal is to offer strategies towards wholeness yet still revealing my struggles and vulnerabilities. Being an Overcomer or Victorious does not mean you’re not going to have bad times but you’d do not dwell within those bad episodes.

No matter how many compliments I receive about how much I have to offer a man and how beautiful and wonderful I am that does nothing for my inner healing. Sounds like I have nothing to offer outside of being with a guy.

Those remarks may or may not be true but that type thinking is missing the point and counter-productive. No matter how well-meaning or well intentioned those remarks may be THE POINT IS, I’m Not Ready and it may be months or years before I am ready. Right now for me the relationship waltz is an emotionally crippling dance. Also I want to concentrate on Me, Myself and I. I’m not to the point where I’m ready to make an investment in a relationship. I Love being an Autonomous, Free and Independent Woman.

Oh yes for those wondering if I still have a sex drive the answer is Yes but menopause has put a damper on it and I no longer feel compelled to satisfy that urge. Truthfully most days I’m just not interested in sex and for the times I am I learned to control myself. Also I made the decision to remain celibate and there are few if any men who can make me change my mind.

My life is not the Black remake of Eat, Pray, Love but more like Having our Say by the Delaney Sisters. The Joys of Singlehood. Can’t even tell you how many miserable married women I know. Constant refrain of, DeBorah I wish I was single like you! Proof that marriage is not all it’s cracked up to be.

And yes I’ve read all the relationship books written by men on what women are doing wrong and how they can better please the men they want in their lives or who are currently in their lives. While other women frantically put desperate profiles on various on-line dating services, engage in speed-dating at the local recreation center, join the singles ministry at church or buy tickets and expensive clothes for silly singles cruises, I’ll be at home comfortable chilling with a good book and drinking a Smirnoff Ice.

I Am Not a Stereotype

On July 19, 2013February 17, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn 50+, Abuse, Africa, African American Queen, African Goddess, Barbie doll, Carnal, Colorstruck, Colour of Beauty, Craving, Dark Skin, Erotic, Ethiopian Goddess, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Goddess, Sexual Fantasy, Spirituality, Stereotypes, Vanity, Wisdom, Woman, WTF13 Comments

I am not a Stereotype

Stereotypes Hurt. No More Labels!!

Women of all colors, races, religions ethnic groups and nationalities face double jeopardy.

I will not be defined by the narrow conventions of your mangled mind.

Me and Patti LaBelle got a new attitude.

http://youtu.be/7jHToFiZuSU

I will not be typecast by the slant of my eyes, the color of my skin or country of origin.

I am a Woman of faith of dignity who demands and commands respect.

I refuse to suffer indignities of your racist sexist perversions.

I follow the laws of God as dictated by my belief system whatever it may be.

I am not an exotic playtoy or life size Barbie doll existing only to gratify, satisfy or fulfill your twisted sadistic carnal predilections.

I am not the one and today is not your day.

I will not be afraid and will not back down.

I am not a victim.

I am more than a survivor.

I am defiant.

You do not have license to ill.

My height, weight, shape do not delineate me as a loose woman or a hot number.

I am not your Ethiopian Chocolate Fantasy or submissive Asian delight found in the back covers of men’s magazines.

I am not your Indian Maiden with feathers in her hair or a sari wrapped around her waist.

If I’m a Lesbian nothing between your legs will make me straight and certainly does not impress me.

Whatever fever you got, be it Jungle Fever, Yellow Fever, Red Fever, Hot Spicy Latina Fever, I’m about to throw cold water all over it and knock you out cold. Get over yourself. You’re not all that and a bag of chips.

I choose who, when, where and if I will lay my body down.

I am the Goddess and only the worthy may gain access to the Temple. As Women we are called to maintain order in the Universe. Ladies ~ Realize your calling.

Ladies sexual abuse, workplace bullying and sexual harassment is the Elephant in the Room that everybody sees but fails to acknowledge its presence. Instead we step lightly around him hoping he will go away of his accord. Do not remain silent. Speak up. Speak out.

The Transience of Memory

On September 10, 2012November 17, 2012 By dancingpalmtreesIn cacophony, Creativity, Dissonance, Explore, Fantasy, Female Divinity, Innovation, Inquisitive, Intellectualism, Koyaanisqatsi, Memory, Spirituality, Surrealism, Visions, Wisdom, Young2 Comments

The Memory much like a Salvador Dali Painting is filed with surrealist things using ever day objects, that slip and slide out of the doorways in our mind. Windows roll up and down on their own, doors open and close arbitrarily. You’ve entered a dimension where the normal scientific rules are bent on an everyday basis. Youth can be restored if we can just get to the crick of life and heads like dogs lap up the youth sustaining water. Memory is a Bizzaro land in which we create dreams. Memory is the vast wasteland where we recreate our past and try to control and shape the future.

Donations and Freewill offerings can be made directly to my PayPal account deborah.palmer280@gmail.com

Memory remembering lost youth — Memories of days gone by

Description

She Gazes into the Past while Contemplating the Future.

Geezer Magnet

On August 13, 2012November 17, 2012 By dancingpalmtreesIn Geezer, Moms Mabley, Old Coot, Raggedy Man, Sexual Fantasy, Viagra2 Comments

Geezer Magnet

Yesterday I finally came to grips with the fact that I’m a Geezer Magnet. Every man attracted to me is in the 65+ category. I blame the overuse of Viagra and his brother Cialis. The discovery of these medications has given dirty old men a new weapon in their limited arsenal.

My 78 year old neighbor Ms. Ruby and I were enjoying yesterday’s R&B music concert at our housing development. Good turnout. Great soul music. There was a 90 year old man sitting in front of us who kept trying to hit on me. Wanted to dance. For almost the entire concert he kept turning around trying to touch me. At one point I smacked his hand away. Ms. Ruby says he can’t do nothing. She says his dick probably like a dried up chili! Ms. Ruby also let me know that he was a widower who took up with five women after his wife died. One of his girlfriends’s wound up in a nursing home.

How this old coot wanna touch or dance when he can barely walk and if I pushed him hard enough he’d be crying, “Help me I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” Limp dick, bald head, spotty hand mofo still trying to get coochie! Damn shame!

Old Folks finally left the show around 7pm. Whew!! I could finally enjoy the rest of the show in peace & quiet. Mr. Age Spots almost got smacked in the head by one of my Muslim neighbors because he was trying to touch her butt as she was talking with us! Never mess with an African-American Muslim Woman. We had to hold her back. Shoot! Neither Allah nor Jesus would have been able to help that old coot if my Muslim neighbor had started whaling on his wrinkled behind.

Ms. Ruby told me he had buried one wife and put some girlfriend in a Nursing Home. One day that dirty old man will come and go at the same time! Viagra has made him overconfident. There is no way I’d want to see a man old enough to be my father naked.

Thankfully we were able to enjoy the final hour of the concert and our Kool & the Gangs favorites from the band. Next week is Gospel. Hopefully he won’t be there. Oh well as my parents used to say, “There’s No Fool like an Old Fool.” Rochdale Village seems to have an overabundance of dirty old men on the prowl. Go figure.

Another only in New York Geezer hit man story. A couple of Thursdays ago my friends and I boarded the Downtown M3 bus. Naturally we took seats close to each other near to the door. Paul was reading a story in the New York Times about the passing of author Gore Vidal. Next thing we know the drunk in front of Paul turns around and starts talking to Paul and Keith about another author Tennessee Williams. Paul and Keith are doing their best to ignore this idiot when after Cora and I began to talk he turned his ugly gaze upon us or rather upon me in particular.

I was trapped. He went on and on about how beautiful and natural I was, if I was married…. I told him that I was taken. He asked me what sign was my husband. I said Scorpio. “Hey, I like Scorpio men and they like me.” However this began to lead to sex talk. I told him I was a Christian. Then this demented beat up elderly excuse for Leon Spinks starts telling us or rather me that he used to be a pimp but now he’s a Christian. Meanwhile Paul and Keith have gotten very quiet. Every time we try to talk among ourselves, Old Folks Leon Spinks would chime in. After several tense moments Cora and I are praying that this guy gets off the bus. Our prayers were answered but not before he asked me to go with him to the liquor store. Damn that Negro had way too much Ripple or Thunderbird already.

Mr. Rotten Teeth also gave me a speech on his days as a Pimp along with his pleas for me to join him. When Raggedy Man realized I was moving he got off the bus but not without giving me a broken teeth leer.

Paul, Keith and Cora were relieved as well as me when he finally left. Dear God I don’t know why I attract idiotic good for nothing worthless men. Then to make things worse they all want to touch me and/or take me somewhere like the 75+ old coot who came to the museum talking trash to me about how I’d make a good slave in this play he was producing in North Carolina. I asked him, “Why I gotta be the slave?” Then he added insult to injury by asking me how to get to the New York Public Library. I informed him that the downtown buses; M2, M3 or M4 would happily take him there since I would not. Just get off at 42^nd street. By this time he was getting desperate and saw that he was getting nowhere with his corny lines so next he implored me to escort him to the 19^th Century Art section within the museum. Once again I refused his request stating that my supervisor who was in plain view through the glass doors would not allow me to do so. He looks at my supervisor then lets loose with the final insult. “Oh he looks like Obama.” My, my, my…. How white of him. Jackass.

At this point I’m totally disgusted and said Sir now go out there and tell my supervisor what you just told me. He and his cane hobbled through the doors over to my supervisor. After gaining his attention he thought better of his statement and just asked directions to the Impressionists.

Hopefully the next time I see Cora, Keith, Paul or my neighbor Ms. Ruby we can all laugh but hopefully we will not see this kook or any of his horny brethren again! Nursing home rejects. Nutty dirty old men in the museum, in the park, on the bus and in the subway!

Ladies I’m like Moms Mabley. As Moms used to say, “The only thing an old man can do for me is to show me where to find a young one!”

Donations and Freewill offerings can be made directly to my PayPal account deborah.palmer280@gmail.com

Go back

Your message has been sent

Jephthah’s Daughters

On July 14, 2012July 14, 2012 By dancingpalmtreesIn Ambien, Battle, Black Unicorn, Bridge, Cat fights, Catharsis, Cathay Williams, Delusions, Dreams, Ebonics, Education, Edward Palmer, Elements of Style, Ethiopian Goddess, Eurydice, Eyesight, Facial Hair, Family History, Family Tree, Fantasy, Fears, Female Divinity, Feminine Divine, Genetic lineage, Gifted & Black, Goddess, Grace Slick, Green tea, grief, Hallucinations, Hamlet, Health Food Stores, Henry V, homeless veterans, Hood Stories, horror, Hypnos, Icelus, Images, Inscriptiona, Inscriptions, Insomnia, Instability, Intellectualism, Jacob's Ladder, Jesus, Kinky/Nappy Hair, Knowledge, Koyaanisqatsi, Law of Attraction, Loss, Love, Lyrical Family Memories, Mable Elizabeth Palmer, Mable Palmer, Madonna, Manufacturered Reality, Maternal lineage, Menopause, Midnight Marauder, Mind Altering Substances, mitochrondrial DNA, Morpheus, Mother, Mozambique, Mystical Creatures, Native American, Nature, New Age, Night Bird, Night Sweats, Nightmares, Nirvana, Noah's Ark, Ohio, Oneiroi, Orpheus, Paradise, Phantaso, profane, Protean, protest, Redemption, Rejection, River Styx, Romance, Royalty, Sacred, Sages, Scars, sci-fi, Sexual Fantasy, Shakespeare, Sherlock Hollmes, Short Stories, Skeptic, Songs of Solomon & Sheba, sorrow, soul, soup kitchen, Soy milk, Spirit, Spirituality, Squatters, Stigmata, Suffering, Suicide, Surrealism, Tattoos, The Secret, Thracian King, Trail of Tears, Understanding, Vision, Vision Quest, Visions, wage slave, War, Wisdom

Jephthah’s Daughters.(Click here to read more)

Shall we regard our girl children as Jephthah’s Daughters? How long will we continue to perpetuate the adage, “Women love their sons, but raise the daughters.” Every child deserves the opportunity to succeed in life but success comes through accepting responsibility and learning to be accountable. Any child male or female who constantly lashes out at authority figures in a bid to always be “right” is a child bound for prison or the graveyard. Stop making girls the sacrificial lambs!!

Ladies, let’s love our girl children and stop putting them on the altar in order to save a son who does not wanted to be saved and does not think he needs help or worse some no account man who should not even be a part of our households to begin with. Let us not return to ancient times when girls and women were thought of as little more than chattel or commodities to be bought and sold. (See below for more details on ancient economies)

“One of the unusual things about the Bible is that it preserves some bits of this larger context. … It would seem that the economy of the Hebrew kingdoms, by the time of the prophets, was already beginning to develop the same kind of debt crises that had long been common in Mesopotamia: especially in years of bad harvests, the poor became indebted to rich neighbors or to wealthy moneylenders in the towns, they would begin to lose title to their fields and to become tenants on what had been their own land, and their sons and daughters would be removed to serve as servants in their creditors’ households, or even sold abroad as slaves.

“[This is what the biblical book of Nehemiah is referring to in the passage,] ‘Some of our daughters are brought unto bondage already: neither is it in our power to redeem them.’ One can only imagine what those words meant, emotionally, to a father in a patriarchal society in which a man’s ability to protect the honor of his family was everything. Yet this is what money meant to the majority of people for most of human history: the terrifying prospect of one’s sons and daughters being carried off to the homes of repulsive strangers to clean their pots and provide the occasional sexual services, to be subject to every conceivable form of violence and abuse, possibly for years, conceivably forever, as their parents waited, helpless, avoiding eye contact with their neighbors, who knew exactly what was happening to those they were supposed to have been able to protect. … http://www.delanceyplace.com/view_archives.php?2009

Donations to this Ministry for the Housing Fund can be made in U.S. Funds via money order or bank checks made payable to Rochdale Village Inc. 169-65 137th Avenue, Jamaica, NY 11434, Account No. 083-11G-16924 or directly to deborah.palmer280@gmail.com via Paypal. Thank you and God Bless.