psa to diouana women who want love...and jewelry
why not both? and a special third thing too
a wife and a husband walk into a bar
have you ever been in love? that sweet feeling of euphoria. that quiet spell of calm.
i could write sonnets about the healing powers of love. true love.
the kind you don’t doubt. the kind that makes you face all your fears. the kind that makes you giggle in the most banal moments.
love that feels like an answered prayer.
that god, forever the generous father, gifted you someone who makes the effort to understand you. answers you when you call. rises to every occasion.
and is always there when you fall.
someone who pushes you towards the path of your dreams. someone who gives feedback when asked, always gently. but always firmly.
someone who reminds you there’s good in this world. greatness, even.
someone all to yourself.
love, in its purest form, gives us hope. another reason for continuing on. a shield we hold as we do the work of becoming.
making one’s life in exacting detail has to be the most painstaking path there is.
not settling out of fear or cowardice. but choosing, even with the associated costs, to make one’s live their own.
imagine doing this work, this very critical and thoughtful work, with someone by yourself. someone you trust. someone you fantasize about. someone who takes the time to understand you.
friendship, i believe it’s called. that intimate knowing.
i wish it for us all.
to be loved by someone who would truly miss us if, god forbid, we were to perish. not because we were the fairest in all the lands, but because we were their person. their confidante. their oracle. their partner.
dare i say, their equal.
but who cares about equality. such feminist thinking. the drivel of naive women who do not understand the stakes: that “a woman’s life is all work and little rest.”
have you considered a little thing called “ease”?
all it requires is a total suspension of self. and a ruthless malleability to see to it that all details are made in his preference. yours can wait.
ease. that four letter word.
not love, but ease.
for ease, what would you exchange? give up? forget about? neglect to even mention, let alone demand?
would you concede power for ease? mince words? move countries?
if your lover lives in hong kong, hong kong you must go. at least, that’s what james baldwin advised.
is malleability such a bad thing?
is a preference, no an insistence on ease, really a crime?
here i thought feminism was about women’s choice.
so choose:
love…or ease?
love…or friendship?
wait, no not friendship. i’m mistaken: mentorship.
mentorship. one who has something to give. wisdom to bestow.
one who is worth listening to. worth following.
one can understand the appeal.
so, we’ve chosen mentorship over friendship. and ease over love.
or did we?
the tricky thing about introspective pieces, especially those that hint at a lack of self-awareness, it’s hard to pinpoint feigned ignorance from a true lack of knowledge.
i know many smart women who are playing dumb. though, none of these women are “diouana women.” just smart women playing dumb.
playing coy has its advantages. but ignorance? it’s a sin, i’m told.
so as you choose, consider situational awareness. better yet, consider a little thing called power.
a five letter word.
it won’t be easy, but it will give you ease.
and if don’t lose your edge, it’ll also give you love.
how?
the power that comes with trusting someone fully, totally, and allowing them to witness you as you witness them.
the power that comes with standing naked and unafraid in front of your lover. the power that comes with voicing your desires, preferences, and wishes. the power that comes from great expectations. and the joy in witnessing him deliver on his promises.
love, ease, power.
they can all coexist. since you’re going to choose, choose well.
go for broke.
find a way to have your cake, and eat it too.
find a man who you love, that also happens to buy you jewelry.
one who’s not above providing you a little something called ease.
two diouana women walk into a salon
this saturday, march 12th at 12p eastern, the fourth edition of the diouana woman salon will take place.
i’d be lying if i told you i know exactly what we’ll be discussing. but i do believe it’ll have to do with love.
what it means to be a woman richly in love. a woman deeply loved. a woman who chooses love over and over and over again.
join us this saturday if you’re a diouana woman who wants love…and jewelry:
dial-in number (US): (605) 313-5820
access code: 8127990#
international dial-in numbers: https://fccdl.in/i/diouanawoman
online meeting id: diouanawoman
join the online meeting: https://join.freeconferencecall.com/diouanawoman
for additional assistance connecting to the meeting text "Call Me" to the dial-in number above and you will be called into the conference. message and data rates may apply.
god and i walked in central park
in my most recent essay, “maybe you shouldn't marry the rich, old man,” i spoke of an old bad habit of mine. how i would seek out the values i revered most in god in mortal men:
“it reminds me of how i used to conceive of men. in the month where the veil is the thinnest, i remember lightening a series of candles in my apartment and meditating on my love life. i reflected on my track record with men and it dawned on me: what i admired most about god, i was seeking to find it in a man.
i loved god as the father; as my shepherd, and there i was taking my undying love for the divine masculine principle, as seen through god, and transposing it on human men who could not tell me the first thing about the bible. nor the book of david. let alone ephesians 5:25.”
i understand what it means to search for “mentorship” in mortal men. for guidance from a male perspective because you revere the father.
but god is god, and that man is not.
and although it is true that what god gives freely, mortal men might keep a tally, a woman should never feel as if she cannot speak.
nor voice her desires or displeasure.
do not shrink yourself simply because you do not sign the checks.
if it is a question of cash, find a way to make, and grow, your own.
even if it requires renegotiating your understanding of that little thing called ease.
sweet dreams,
a diouana woman
p.s. read my latest essay, maybe you shouldn’t marry the rich, old man.
disclaimer: the views expressed in this essay are those of the author and do not reflect the views of any employer, past or current.