My First Taste by Janine Hart

Her hair felt good in my hand. A fistful of curls and color. Her cream skin looked so bright against mine and made me think of French vanilla iced cream and the second woman, mocha toffee. I moaned softly as Mocha continued to kiss my neck and move down my back, Vanilla continued to quench her thirst. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ I asked myself. One woman was bad enough but two. I had stumbled upon something I knew nothing of. It scared me, but more, it thrilled me. Feeling her tongue, wet and able, between my legs, feeling her pull my hair as I moaned loudly. It was almost too much. I remembered leaving the bar but how I got here was still a mystery.

Mocha started to unzip my dress and Vanilla stood to help. They tore my clothes from me with a hunger I had only seen in men. When I was completely naked they stopped and stepped back. “Damn you’re beautiful.” Vanilla whispers as she slid a finger down my stomach.

“Isn’t she.” Mocha moves closer to me and smells my skin.

“Thank you.” I manage to sputter out between pants.

“No thank you.” They both say as their hands begin to explore my overly sensitive skin making their way to my wet wanting waiting pussy.

I moaned as Mocha slid a finger deep inside me. “First time with a woman? I still don’t believe you.” She moved her expert fingers slowly in and out of me almost making me beg.

“We promise to make you love it.” Vanilla whispers in my ear, her voice like warm honey, as she kissed down my back.

They moved me closer to the bed and softly laid me down. I had to admit, no man’s touch had ever made me feel this way. Every movement they made was in unison and sent chills through my body. I looked up as their hands withdrew. Mocha pulled Vanilla closer by her curly golden hair and kissed her deeply before tearing her sheer blouse open. Vanilla moaned and I felt my want intensify. Mocha let her dress drop to floor, satin and silk now in a mess among the other shredded cloth.

“Take her bra and panties off.” Mocha looked at me. The lust in her eyes and smooth deep voice made me tingle.

I slowly stood and moved to Vanilla. She inhaled, her eyes rolling, as my small hands rubbed against her smooth skin. I unhooked her bra and let it hit the floor. I bent down slightly and started to slide her lace crimson panties off. “Rip ‘em.” Mocha’s voice was hushed and heavy with anticipation. I smile a little as the excitement built. I gave the small sheath of fabric a hard tug, the lace ripping and tearing. This was all very new.

“Mmm.” Vanilla moaned low and smooth. She turned to face me.

I was now inches away from the sweetest scent I had ever inhaled. My mouth watered. My panties, long gone, would have been soaked by now.

“Go ahead. Taste.” Vanilla pushed my head closer softly.

I hesitated for a moment but the want inside me won and my tongue pushed forward with curiosity and thirst. Her head fell back and I felt a hand caress my wetness. ‘Mocha.’ I thought as she softly entered me pulling me deeper into ecstasy.

As Mocha pulled in and out of me Vanilla held my head in place. I moaned softly into her, she reciprocated with a shiver and held my hair tighter. My tongue softly explored her. She tasted like candy and smelled like honey. I was simply intoxicated. I could feel Mocha’s tongue caress me from behind. I tried to pull away but my moans were muffled by my second lover. With every stroke of Mocha’s soft satin tongue my tongue explored and plunged deeper into Vanilla. “Oh God.” She gasped. “This can’t be your first time.” She breathed to me as her climax built. I could feel her clench around my fingers as I pushed two deep inside of her. “Shit.” She moaned.

Mocha sped up and pumped harder into me as my own climax built and started to overwhelm me. When I thought I couldn’t focus any longer Vanilla began to shiver. I knew she was close. Her breath erratic, she threw her head back and grasped my hair tighter. “Oh fuck!” her scream filled the hotel room as waves of pleasure poured over her body. She breathed hard and shook as she came down from her orgasm and looked at me. “My goodness.” She leaned down and kissed me as I tried to hold my own pleasure back. “That tongue.”

Vanilla bent down and softly stroked my hard nipples. Her fingers light and sensual against my skin. Mocha’s well guided tongue continued to explore and tease as I trembled from the overwhelming ecstasy. Mocha stopped abruptly and pulled me to the floor, flipping me on my back and spreading my legs. Vanilla moved to my side and began to finger Mocha as she licked and nibbled my nipples. I reciprocated and slid back into Vanilla.

Our moans, a symphony, joined and heightened in unison as we all climbed towards a mutual climax. I tensed as a new sensation washed over me. “Oh God yes!” I screamed as I my hips moved back strong against Mocha’s tongue and fingers. Mocha’s climax was next, expressed with a low growl and moan that warmed my pussy and made me buck once again. And Vanilla finished our trifecta with sweet slow lull of pleasure.

We collapsed to the carpeted floor and our erratic breathing almost matched.

I shivered and looked at my two spent lovers. I smiled. “I guess now would be a good time for names.”

If I Had the Nerve…

I can remember wanting to die since I was 13 years old. Bankruptcy, turncoats, and death after death crushed what little faith I had. I blamed God every day and started cutting again hoping the open wounds would bleed out the pain. I started drinking every day hoping it would numb me from the things I couldn’t name. Stayed away from home with little to no parental guidance looking for anything to fill a void. Today is no different. Trapped in a jail of my own making with two people who reinforce the uselessness I feel and the failure I hold. No solace found in one who should serve as a mental escape from the world. Loftless days spent with or without companionship still feel like empty dark nights. The sun doesn’t even hold a place in beauty anymore. The small sweet pains of cuts and bruises are sometimes the only things that remind me I’m alive. The in-between times of tempered pseudo happiness fade as quickly as they come and leave me waiting for something I’ve never had. The emptiness I feel is only matched by the confusing question of “Why me?” The God I pray to has not left me but I’m not sure if I’m looking for the right answers. Soul searching does little when you’re not sure if you have one anymore. I’m starring in a horror movie and I don’t even have the script. This world was not made for minds like mine. The darkness slips in so easily and no one has a bright enough light. If I had the nerve. I wake up and think to myself how easily I could vanish. How simple it would be to just leave this soiled world behind. Leave it to the people it has turned into monsters. The soul eaters that walk the earth with only purposes of wrong and unjust. Why do their prayers get answered? Probably because of the god they prey to. Where has the inspiration gone? I keep expecting something to give but no matter what I give I get nothing. Maybe I deserve it all. What I get is punishment for the way I am. I wonder why I am still here sometimes. Why am I constantly consistently on the low end of the totem pole? Maybe I don’t try hard enough. Maybe I don’t try at all and I’m just costing through life taking whatever comes. The loss of passion in life is as draining as living. Not having anyone who truly understands or being alone in a crowd is my daily bread. I live on the fact that no one would shed a tear if I were to leave or vanish. If this isn’t true, then why do I feel it every day? Why is it a constant reminder every second I am awake? The ones I called friends for years treat me like a stranger, insult me, disrespect my house, feign interest but rarely support. My newer friends are just there and most don’t know the severity of anything. It’s probably unfair to expect friends to help get you out of a slump or a lifetime of self-hatred. It’s not their problem. This is not their life. This isn’t a life at all. This is mere existence and I am tired. But I still don’t have the nerve. I’m not cowardice enough to pull the trigger. To slide the knife. To swallow the pill. So I’m stuck. Stuck in a world I don’t belong in, don’t fit in, and surrounded by people who look at me like an alien sometimes. My heart barely beats anymore. The past few years have dimmed the light even more. Learning the lies that have been whispered behind my back, the constant battles at home, the consistent feeling of unworthiness in most relationships whether they be platonic or not, the upturn of a systematic genocide.  Sometimes you shouldn’t know the truth. About the world, the way people feel about you, the lies of your youth. It’s as bad as realizing you were never loved as much as you thought, no assumed. My paint brush touches the canvas but no colors come. Nothing happens. How long can you feign happiness before that alone kills you? How do I find that spark again? I know I’d be gone if that were the plan but the torture of the monotony of waiting is becoming unbearable. Waiting for what? A destiny that is predetermined yet random and unpredictable but also one you can make yourself. Yeah, fate. Karma. Balance. If I had the nerve. Where are my scales of balance and justice? Why do I pick roads and people leading nowhere? Where is my fork in the road with a sign? Actually, that could be the problem. Trying to peer into the future when the present isn’t even determined yet. Chasing a fantasy of a person, a situation, a family that doesn’t exist and can not be obtained by sheer luck. Even hard work doesn’t suffice anymore. If I had the nerve, I’d ask these questions on the other side before my elevator went down and I finally got a chance to kill the devil without consequence. The devil, God? Are they even a factor anymore in the grand understanding of existence and “living”? Are they still whispering in our ears or have they too gone silent in the disgust of what life has become. Watching as the walls crumble and the ground shatters beneath us all. And if that’s the case then I am purely to blame for my life and that makes the failure even drearier. But clearly I don’t have the nerve nor the cowardice to quit. I think that makes me more uneasy than anything. Am I “living to die or dying to live?” am I okay with the mediocrity of everything? From love to friends to life? No. Not at all. This can’t be all there is. The only reason to be is to breathe? I can’t accept that. If I can’t escape, I can’t be silent. If the option is between going crazy slowly or living in my crazy, I’ll take the second. Slowly dying is not an option anymore. The haze of smoke and the waves of inebriation can not suffice. And the never ending questioning of intentions and loyalties will not stand. If the world deems me useless then I have nothing to prove to the world at this point and whatever I do next like before will be my own path. Whether it leads to damnation or glory, mine. I can’t give way to destiny and fate. The arrogant assumption that a path has been destined for me, predetermined, written in gold. Karma is a crap shoot. Good suffers and evil continues to prevail. Maybe it’s not evil, just a sickness that is spreading and for some reason a few go uninfected. With all due respect fuck the grand scheme of things. If life is a lucid dream then anything really is possible. And if selfishness is the new cordiality then it’s about time I took care of me. Why not create anarchy? Why not go forth and disrupt? Everything. Truth will always disturb false complacency. Disturbance is a way to change. I think I want to upset the balance hence forth. What’s the worst that could happen after you’ve lived through hell? Hell of your own making or not is still hell. There are people older than me by decades who are still battling with why. Why? Making it to 50 doesn’t guarantee knowing what you’re doing or where you’re going, so why bother trying to follow some plan that doesn’t exist? Why hold on to fate? I don’t even have a guarantee of an afterlife. Just a here and now. A here and now that can be controlled in one way or another. Whether it be by hook or by crook, there is a way. I know my life is not the worst by far and I am not alone by any means in the way I feel. But why should I keep it to myself? Why not say it out loud or in ink? If there are others who don’t have the nerve, then good for you too. Now figure out why. Let the expression of words and emotions bother people, make them uncomfortable, make them pay attention. Over fucking saturate. If I’m just here, then the world is going to know.

The Systematic Breakdown of the Woman By: Janine “Jeanie” Hart

Step One: Tell Her You Love Her

By telling the already vulnerable woman these three little words you have put a crack in her shell. This provides a small amount of comfort and trust, as the myth goes if a man tells you he loves you it must be true. Because of past incidents some women don’t believe they deserve the love and will be drawn to the idea of being genuinely loved. Love is a powerful weapon whether it is real or not and the idea of fantastical love can always be used as a lure. Once the woman believes you, almost anything is possible. The list of things women will give for love is endless and that is fact.

Step Two: Show Investment

After gaining the opening to trust it’s time to make her feel she is worth you. Your time, small gestures, and constant loving contact will cloud her mind and her guard starts to lower. Take this time to hit hard and make her believe she will always be your first priority and always be worth your time and kind words. The comfort and the illusion of safety you provide will make her think she has finally found someone who knows her true worth. Don’t underestimate the power of a man’s chest underneath a well stroked woman’s head. Maintaining a small inexpensive date night once a month or more solidifies the trust and the illusion of worth, opening the doors to her heart.

Step Three: Show Her She’s Beautiful

For the first six months to a year tell the woman that she is beautiful every chance you get. Get lovingly lost in her eyes, touch the small of her back when you hold open a door, smile at her too much, and always make her blush. This is the first of many nails in her coffin. Now you can’t do any wrong. Now you are the piece that is filling the void in her heart and mind that others created. Stick with the weakness you are instilling in her and use it to keep her for the amount of time needed. Most women need validation of their beauty, hence the women you see showing as much as they can while claiming to be a lady.

Step Four: Show Her you Want Her All the Time

Once she believes she is beautiful in your eyes move on to showing her you can’t keep your hands off of her. Even if it’s just sexual the woman will think it is a sign of true love and not just lust. Lust is also a formidable weapon if used right. Lust can be confused with love and true wanting. Sex is a means to an end. The orgasm is the goal not necessarily the intimacy. Intimacy is what a woman thrives on. It proves that she is still in the relationship she thinks she’s in. Illusions are a key way to keep your vacationship going. Stay around her and at her house. Show her you have no intentions on leaving her side and the mere thought of her drives you crazy. If you are advanced enough you can pull off the emotionless fake intimacy D-bomb and cuddle. Keep her warm at night and actually train yourself to hold her while you sleep. Feeling wanted is a euphoric and mind bending feeling. It will make her more open, dependent, trusting, and eager to please. Trust is a way to a woman’s heart.


Step Five: Silently Ask for Devotion and Attention

This is where it starts to change. Become a little reclusive, held back, and don’t interact as much. This will cause the woman to think she has done something wrong or hasn’t fulfilled a need of yours. If you’ve been doing everything right up until this point the transition should be easy. Of course the questions will come. Stay smooth and calm. Remember you created and control the fantasy she’s in. Keep her thinking it will pass, this way she will continue to hold on. Make her believe that if she just stays by your side and gives you all her attention that you’ll be fine. Women are fixers by nature. No you can’t change or fix a man but you can make a woman believe she can.

Step Six: Back Off

This is the lull stage. Become more of a sit in boyfriend and let her get comfortable with you being in her personal space but not really with her. She is now invested and devoted to the want and need to make you happy and hopefully not push you farther into your newly created hole. Now the chill can begin. Half conversations about nothing and the ability to be alone next to someone just in case needs arise. By this time the dates should have lessened or ceased completely with an excuse in regards to transportation, funds, family, or lack of interest in activities offered. This won’t always go over well but the love and trust should keep her coming back. Intimacy will of course be lacking by this point but the occasional snuggle and warm body will quail her needs. Make her believe you just need more space and freedom. Make her a very mild burden. Hurt women are easier to control.

Step Seven: Become Complacent and Ask for More

Now this is an art. Make it known that you are at a point where you don’t want to do anything in regards to going out or being extremely close all the time without ever saying. Become completely comfortable just existing. Once that is established ask for an upgrade from her. Her hair is never done, she never gets dressed anymore, and she just isn’t trying as hard. You did this to her by making her feel she wasn’t worth taking out anymore or being treated beautiful. Good job. Now ask her to be beautiful again, make her feel you deserve it and that maybe it will upgrade the relationship as well. Small things should suffice as you don’t want her to resent you, just to want you to want her again.

Step Eight: Make Her as Complacent as You

Going from complacent to comfortable to give her hope is another way to keep her in the fantasy. Show her briefly that you are still in this with her. Show up and actually talk, enjoy her friends, smile at her, and make her feel you still love her. Play this card for a while but never change what you do when the two of you are alone. This will make her think you want to be around her, you enjoy her but you’re just a laid back guy. There’s nothing really wrong in the relationship you just like the down time and being in her aura. Now she feels a little better. The questions about going out and why you aren’t close will cease for a short period and she will cling to the idea that she is still worth your time and she should try to let you be yourself.


Step Nine: Take Advantage and See How Far She’ll Bend

Even knowing about her financial, emotional, or physical situations, push the boundaries. Use her money even though you work and she doesn’t. Use her link or eat her food but don’t contribute to the fridge. Don’t support her emotionally when you know she needs it even though you could. Keep your finances and real plans secret and see how much of herself she is willing to give in return for minimal support. Always remember what you spend and remember to make her feel guilty for every penny and every minute of your time, this way she feels she may owe you something.

Step Ten: Make her Question Herself

Now while she is trying to make up for lost time or finances continue to pull away slowly. Don’t hang around her as much, don’t contact her as much, and cut down spending the night as much as possible. When she asks you to stay come up with any lame excuse because at this point she will take whatever she can get out of you. If you were only looking for a hideaway from life, by this time you have other women you are talking to or maybe even sleeping with. This will make leaving much easier for you. Or you’ve saved enough to move on to your own space and don’t need the woman’s as much.

Step Eleven: Stay but don’t be Present and Play the Victim

When she asks you to come over or pulls a sex card, go. These are the times that will keep her holding on and waiting on you. At this point she is hoping that you will see her worth again or at least make her feel you are still there and want her. If she begins to become tired or aware and you want the vacationship to last longer make a small grand gesture. When she finally calls you out or ignores you it’s time to turn the tables. Show up at her house and force her to talk. Tell her you messed up even if you have no intentions of changing yourself or the dynamic that has been created. Make sure she believes you want to be there for no other reason but her and that you are so hurt you made her feel lesser or have been mean. Make her believe that it broke your heart when she ignored you. Tell her how hectic your life is, and how she doesn’t understand. Be nice for a couple of days making her comfortable again and then leave. The woman will not be able to decipher between your ploys and your real at this point so she will just hope for real. Do not let her realize it was a show. If you need more time and want to stretch it out you must play this card very carefully. Pay attention to the signs of trust and meter if they are waning. This could mean the real end is near and your other options may be seeing more of you.

Step Twelve: Enjoy the Spoils

By this point either the vacationship will dissipate on its own or there will be a point when you must end things. Of course things like Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, or any random special occasion outings or gifts have ceased so there shouldn’t be anything expected when holidays come. That string has already been cut. Now for the emotional part. If you are trying to create a side, you’ve already destroyed that and not a lot of men can balance the two women, especially if they couldn’t balance one. If you’re good enough maybe you can keep a buddy by separating “mutually” because the timing is wrong or you want to focus on a new career or you’re better as friends. Each one of these excuses needs finesse to pull off peacefully and still be able to pop by for a quick one. Now if you just want to be done. Tell her without telling her. Ignore her, be aloof, be mean, and be frustrated all the time. If this has been your plan all along you have already established a good base of lies and examples to friends and family to make you the victim and her the villain. You have also not claimed the woman publicly or given her much time around old friends or family. To everyone else it will seem as if the end was obvious and she was oblivious. Now with all that done, sit back and enjoy yourself while it lasts.


We wake before or with the sun. Our faces hard and tight from lack of sleep. We rise and clean away yesterday’s disappointments, our armor placed with perfection. We check our tools and weapons,  feed our young and soldiers and march into battle. Our delicate faces brushed by the harsh cold. Our will shaken by opposition, still we march. It is our duty to survive. We do not need a way out. We need to rise to being the warriors we are. We are the backbone of society, the crutch for the weak, the bearers of humanity. We are women.  We are warriors, and this world is our battlefield. Hoorah!

Inherited Beauty

As I sit here on the bus next to a beautiful chocolate woman, I notice two young boys across from me who mirror our situation. Light next to dark. The youngest is staring at us both, probably realizing how drastically different women can be. Especially women of color. Her light brown hair and chocolate skin, deep eyebrows, dark eyes and actually nice purple lipstick. Me light bright no makeup slicked back hair, and if I do say, glowing. Lol but it comes to mind, at what age do young men develop a sense of what is beautiful and what isn’t? Is it around the same age girls realize they are different and maybe not as pretty? And then as we age, men and women, children look at us and how we look and dress and build a mold on that. Now of course this mold changes over the years, your tastes, hopefully, become more refined and defined. With this in mind, as women, we shape what men later call beautiful. If they see a constant string of women who are wearing nails, weave, lashes, heels all the time,and makeup they may think of that as their beautiful. Or they could rebuke it completely and think the women who wear their hair natural (pressed or not), dress differently, no makeup or soft, and not always a supermodel are their beautiful. It’s fascinating how we grow in this world, and what we become through the years. We are like wine either we get better with age or…. not. All women are beautiful and that should be defined by yourself before any man. But we have to be careful what we portray to young men and boys with our beauty. Just a thought.

Sure There’s No More Racism In America: Miss America

Beautiful Nina Davuluri was crowned Miss America, making her the first with Indian decent. Of course the second the crown touched her head twitter was filled with racist comments and ignorant banter about her heritage and of course her connection to 9/11. There were questions about her being “American enough” to where the crown. America, home of the free, the same home of the 87 year old tradition of Miss America that once held a seventh rule in the handbook saying “contestants must be of good health and of the white race.” Or the “right” race…This is the real America we live in and it’s time we stopped accepting it and ignoring it. Also America boasts being the best and better than other “poorer” countries or countries with cultural beliefs we don’t understand or believe but we are neck in neck with India in racism against Davulri. According to some in India she’s too dark to win at all.>
Also if you’d like to read how far America has come racially, here you can find the comments here>


Just a thought….

In 1848 the first convention was held to discuss the lack of rights for women in America, in 1896 the National Association of Colored women was formed, it still wasn’t until August 26th 1920 that an amendment was signed allowing women to vote. During this time women were killed, beaten, hung, raped, and degrade in an effort, from men, to show them their place. During the suffrage in 1917, 33 women were arrested for “obstructing sidewalk traffic”. The officers beat them until they were barely alive. When Alice Paul, one of the suffrage leaders, went on a hunger strike she was tied to a chair, a tube shoved down her throat, and force fed liquor for weeks until press got word.

It wasn’t until June 10th 1963 that congress passed the equal pay act making it illegal to pay a woman less than a man. These were still only small steps for women to receive the acknowledgement, not even the treatment, that they were not lesser creatures. Even with these few lesser rights men had the right to rape their wives until about 1976 when Nebraska was the first to make it illegal. Only in 1994 the violence against women act was established making punishment more severe for sex offenders.

Since the beginning of a “civil” state women have been second rung to men in everything. They have been objectified, used, abused, degraded and made to feel that their sexuality is their only worth. With this said I think it’s sad that most conversations, most songs, and most videos I hear or see revolve around demeaning women. Men have placed women in a box or category from which it is very difficult to escape. Women are either too aggressive if they are confident or successful even though a lot of men say they want a “strong” woman, or their whores, sluts, or worth a good fuck. Men go out with the thought in mind that they may get laid. They pick the women they think are willing and go for it. Some women go out with the same thought as these men but the problem is at the end of the night she’s the slut or whore and he’s the shit. This double standard, the perpetual display of video whores being the norm, the feeling in women that they have to be a certain way to attract attention is the reason acronyms like T.H.O.T. are acceptable in our society. We as blacks have made it okay to treat our women as whores and sluts and then we turn around degrade them because they are what society has made them.

I’ve listened to men call women whores all my life. By the way a hoe is a gardening tool, just an f.y.i. And the reasons behind their judgment always seemed…off. I’m 25 and still don’t understand. A woman who is promiscuous is shamed while the men sleeping with all these promiscuous women are hailed. How messed up is our thought process.

Men say they want a good woman and they are above whores or sluts. When men go out they look for the sluttiest looking woman, hope she’s a whore, then degrade her later after they’ve gotten what they want. Men want a good woman. When you get that good woman you as a man, are you going to look her in the eyes and say I’ve been with 25 or more women, so accept me as a good man and not a whore? While if she were to tell you a number under 5 she’s lying or a number over 5 she’s a whore. This is what men are teaching each other, their sons, their families, and worst of all their daughters.

We create this world where sex is everywhere, where you can’t get into places unless skin is showing, where women follow these degrading trends and hope they aren’t degraded themselves, where men make women feel they aren’t worth much unless they look a certain way or put out after a few dates, where the courting process has been made void, where young girls under 15 know how to twerk and we wonder why we are at the level we are at.

Women understand that you are worth more than a short skirt and a good blow job. Have the strength to stand up for yourself and stop falling into these traps. Be confident in who you are and let these fake flashy disrespectful men fall by the wayside. If you all start treating yourselves and each other better weak mean will have no choice but to step up.

Men if you want a good woman stop turning them into whores and sluts by sleeping with everything that moves. Start holding yourselves to a higher degree and stop acting like what you do is okay and not insulting, degrading, and sad. Start judging yourselves as you judge women.

We as a people first should be building each other up not making memes that tear down women and should embarrass the men who post them. That goes for all the women out there who treat other women like trash and degrade them out of whatever self-hate they are holding. Get over it and do better. Women are the creators and keepers of our existence but only if she’s sucks a good dick? But only one, cause any more than that and she’s downgraded from a woman to a whore or T.H.O.T. Acronyms are separated by periods, just another f.y.i. Men are the backbones, or are supposed to be, because they are to uphold morals and keep their woman in good morals. I wonder what happened to that.

We as a people used to be stronger than this. We break each other down, break ourselves down, and are confused by the end result. If a woman or man is nasty with his or her promiscuity then they are just that, nasty.  I am by no means saying it’s okay to be overly promiscuous because men and women should have higher standards for themselves. I am saying that if men and women had higher opinions of their own worth, maybe I wouldn’t be afraid to have a daughter in a gutter world like this. I am not a whore, a slut, thot, or any other degrading term you can think of and I don’t know any. You shouldn’t either. Next time you look down at your daughter, niece, sister, or cousin, just think, she could aspire to one become a T.H.O.T! Won’t you be so proud?


Our parents create us and raise us with the hope that we will better their accomplishments or lack of accomplishments and they push us with the hope that we don’t turn out like them one day no matter how perfect some think they are. As children we are raised with our own intentions to rise above what they are or were and to create our own mark on the world. The problem is, even with good intentions both sides stray at times from the proper path.

While our parents are hoping for a brighter future with words of wisdom like, “Do what we say and not what we do” the message is lost in misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and a need created by their hold to break free. With this, at times, misguided need to be free we as children lose our hold on our parents and in turn our hold on our own path.

In this day and age there are some traditions, such as staying with your parents until marriage or children or while taking care of parents, that are resurfacing with a quickness our generation is having trouble keeping up with. We were raised in a time where we were taught to be independent, strong, smart, and capable of handling most anything. Unfortunately that is not the world we live in. We are trapped in a perpetual, however momentary, loop of unemployment, educational boundaries, and uncertainty that makes us need the parents who have tried to teach us to be alone. Unfortunately this is a new aspect to parents who were hoping that the “quality” upbringing, college education, or inherited street smarts would have prepared us for a world they didn’t realize would become so harsh so quickly.

With the new world at our feet and our paths ever changing both sides could give more in the way of understanding the other’s opposition to their own situation. Parents support their children as far as they can and feel miserable that their children are in the situations they are whether the fault be in their hands or not. While children still in need of the support appreciate everything but resent the strain they present. These opposing yet similar feelings create, sometimes, unstable and trying situations both wish they could pull from.

The resentment for one’s own situation can easily be passed to the innocent bystander, mother or daughter, father or son, and the aftermath is not something easily passed over. But we have to, on both sides, realize we, parent or child, may be the reason behind the angst. Our own feelings of disappointment push us to be people we are not, but as the people we are raised to be we should be able to adapt, understand, and move forward with hurt feelings and all and try again. Because love means never having to say you’re sorry. But love is also understanding that, even as a parent, we are not perfect we are only human.

Some parents unfortunately, tend to treat they’re children as if they never grew up and couldn’t possibly know as much as them, ever. This assumption is shown blatantly and is very insulting not only to the child but to the parent as well. Parents spend the entirety on their children’s lives teaching them right from wrong and the basics of survival. Molding them. Even with these teachings they treat their children as if they couldn’t possibly know anything. This is an insult to the parent because that means they didn’t teach anything. Children are products of their parent’s upbringing. They don’t come out the womb with instructions to life so we get them from our parents as they got them from theirs.

Some children can’t see how hard their parents are trying. How their mental angst is making them into the people their children so desperately don’t want to end up like. They deserve the same level of understanding children do. Parents are merely humans who were brought up by humans who made mistakes as well. They are a product of their upbringing as are we. The things that happened in their lives molded what they want or don’t want to happen to their children. Some get it right and some don’t.

Understanding and good parenting are not traits easily passed from one generation to the next. While being a parent, one is still always learning and mistakes are expected. Parents and children should at least have the decency to admit their mistakes and fix them.

We are a generation of confused children raised by a generation of unprepared adults raising babies that get the short end of the stick. This needs to change. As we hope to move forward into a world that is better because we made it that way, we also must look back at the upbringing and mistakes that made us the way we are. That gave us the insecurities, fear, and loathing we all harbor inside. Some had the fortunate experience to have a great home and life. The problem is some of these lucky ones are still lost in their own homes and minds and don’t know why. Some had to bury their parents and make it through the world alone. And some had it bad all their lives and are stuck in a loop. We, parents and children, need to step back and realize we are not perfect, we all have chips on our shoulders we need to fill, and we make mistakes that are sometimes more detrimental than we think. The good thing is we can grow and move past while raising the next generation right. Love, foundation, understanding, discipline, and truth. We are not our parents’ punching bags and our children are not ours.