Waaaaay back in 2008 I wrote a blog post in the summer time, right after we learned that Erykah Badu was pregnant with her little bear about the fact that Black women’s bodies do not belong to themselves.
Looking back I realize that I was inspired by the fact that that in public people feel entitled to touch our hair and our bodies, and in private our families and loved ones feel that they have say so about our hair texture (nappy vs. straight, or re: going natural).
So. This brings me to this morning when I finally figured out WHY I am writing about Black women’s sexuality.
Saturday, I got no work done. Nonya. This was the first time this year where my schedule got completely upended.
Last semester was on #Aquemini Saturday. My boo’s do be my muses. o.0
Rather than go to read and write on Saturday morning, we drove to Balitmore for brunch and that shit was luxurious.
Then I slept. Then we went to the movies.
Granted, I was behind as shit on Sunday, because so many chores didn’t get done.
So this morning, I was saying that I wanted to GO BACK to Saturday; It was impromtu and fun; it felt like a vacation.
Then Goldy turned around and called me greedy. I was like, “I am greedy because I want to hang out the you and not be running 5011 errands for two or three hours straight?” “I don’t think it’s greedy, I think I am being a human being.” She got my point.
It was in THAT moment that I realized why I have been writing about and invested in Black womens sexuality and the social and economic forces that shape how Black women make sexual choices at home and in public.
Many of us are told by our mothers that all we need to do is “work” because “you can do bad all by yourself.”
When many of us were little, language is used with Aunt’s, Uncles, and grandparents to discourage them from giving us stuff or being nice to us otherwise we may get “spoiled.” Spoiled food is rotten and inedible.
All of this leaves me with a few questions.
Out of a desire for our mothers to protect us, and make sure that we have tools to deal with a fucked up world, did they make Black girls and pleasure two mutually exclusive categories?
Did our mothers socialize us to run away from pleasure?
Does enjoying pleasure mean being “ruined”? Ruined for who?
Why are the boys in our family not talked about in the same way?
Are the boys in our family ever described as being “spoiled?”
Does it have the same meaning when it is used to describe girls?