I don’t exist in real life

I’m tired.  I’m so sick and tired of my image being dictated to me.

I am a wife.

I actually married my husband because I loved him and thought he was a good man and provider. I loved the way he carried himself.  He was and still is a man in every sense of the word.  I wanted very much to be his partner for the rest of my life.

I am a mother.

I actively thought about being a mother before I had my children.  My husband told me before we married that one of the many reason he chose me to be his wife was because he thought I would be a great mother.  We were married a very short time (4 years) before we had our first child, but we knew and accepted the responsibility that came along with bringing a life into this world.  I became a stay at-home mother to watch our children grow and be their biggest influences.  My husband and I firmly believe that we are their first teachers and take that job quite seriously.

I am a friend.

I pride myself on the sisterhoods I have developed with my girlfriends. I lean on them and I looked to them for advice that is caring, intelligent, and balanced.  I am a phone call away for most of my friends.  I cry with them.  I cheer them on.  I genuinely love them and want the best for them in all that they do.

I am in my mid-30s.  I have owned 2 homes.  I have served in the military honorably. I have been with my husband for over 10 years and married to him for 8 of those years. I speak quite well and can write a little bit.

I am also Black.

There are no current images of me on television.  I don’t exist in real life and I am so tired of not having a voice to the ignorance that is used to describe me.  I am more than a video chick, reality television star, or the inarticulate woman one sees on their local news.  I’m tired of it and that is the reason for this blog.

It has become quite clear to me that I don’t exist in real life.


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