Femme Worship & Why I Be Lovin Nick Cannon

I love the way that Nick Cannon declares his love for Mariah Carey. I just finished watching the Kevin Hart series The Real Husbands Of Hollywood. A show that focuses on the satirical relationships between several hilarious and brilliant comedic couples including Tisha Campbell-Martin (from Martin). And throughout the show, the ongoing joke is about him being 'Miss Mariah', but he never rejects it. He in fact embraces it openly. The first episode he even wears an apron that reads Mr. Mimi while he is barbecuing, he sets his alarm to go home at midnight to see Mariah after hanging out with the boys, he just loves himself some her!

Regardless of the ways that insecure people criticize his 'masculinity', he opens identifies as Mr. Mariah Carey. Why would we be mad? Why would we shame this man over and over again for loving this woman so deeply that he reaffirms it in every public encounter. 

This is so rare. And although I know nothing about their personal relationship, so often the image represented in corporate media, is that men don't love their partners, they think that they are annoying and they just put up with them. I have seen this 'joke' played out in sitcom after sitcom. And when masculine people love women a lot, it is always framed as a flaw, or a weakness like Steve Urkel before he became Stephan. 

What is being taught, if masculine people are shamed in much media when they express open loving, declarative possibly even submissive feeling for women? What is being taught if the 'cool' ways and the acceptable ways are to be less attached and attentive?

All these things must be practiced with consent. Grand gestures without consent can be invasive and frightening. When we love each other with clear permission in the ways that we each individually desire and negotiate, that is a beautiful thing.

In Praise Of The Vulnerable Femme: The Redux

My breasts sag.

They are small, soft,
Easily laying against my chest
Falling off to the sides
Across them light lines that weavestories like rivers flowing downward to the earth.
I have practiced exactly one thousandpositions, casually cupping them, shrouding them
Your eyes averted, kissing around them
You pretend my breasts don’t sag
I pretend my breasts don’t sag
We pretend our breasts don’t sag,pretend our bellies are flat, pretend our hearts do not hurt.
And I want to saythat there is power in our softness, in our vulnerability. When I see us inmirrors, biting lips and furrowing brows, I want to drop to my knees womyn andtell you that we are perfection. But we stand in this all together, carryingwith us the whispers and shouts of a glossy photoshopped world that tries towill us into non-existence with size 00's and I see you worry that my gazecomes with a judgement but I promise you it doesn't. (And to be clear no shadeto my slender sisters, I simply believe that you/we should all get a realnumber)

Dorothy Allison says “Femme girls dance on razors everyday of our lives, and some days it is only bravado that keeps us upright."And womyn I see you, I see you in your fierceness, your anger and yourinsecurity and I love you in all of it.


I love the many expression of femme-ness, love the subtly and directness in oursexuality, love the war paint, love us knee deep in the swamp and wide eyed inmy arms. I love it when you tell me what to do and love it equally when youhave no idea.
I want to shield us from the whole world beautifulbrokengorgeous as we are. Ithink that your round bellies are so sexy, the way you wrap your tightcurls/locks/braids/crown is artful and commanding and when you say something crass/brilliant/provocative/braveI.melt.every.single.time.

And I can't fit it all in here, nor will I try, but I promise to tell you allthat I love you more. Proudly declare it and treat you preciously. In this patriarchal, racist, mind fuckof a world we are both what is desired and defiled, vessels of power and ofshame. A world oftensurprised by our intelligence and dismayed by our independence.

But babes we are oh so hard on the world, can't help but turn heads and dropjaws. Can't help but free minds and steal hearts. We are scientists and sexworkers and when we find each other and find ourselves in each other, I know Iam watching god.

And it is oh so hard to love withoutconditions, to love with the urgency that we deserve, and in defiance of allthat opposes blackgirllove.
For the moments we forget, for themoments we can’t find the joy in our arms curve, the blessings in our fatthighs, the bliss in our sagging breasts.
For those moments,
I want to remind us that we are nevertoo much and always enough.
Explosions of stardust
Bodies of pure worship
Magnificent in our ugly
Eternal in our darkness