When a woman is persecuted for standing her ground

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One Black woman's journey through life, motherhood and struggle.

by Queenanndi/PNN

I have caught more than enough hell being a woman- black, strong, and a proud independent freedom fighter- that's being punished for just being me!

This is my story

I was born black. I was born proud. I was taught to be strong by one of the strongest women in the world-Carolyn Brantley X. That is how I fought through and survived the mean, unmerciful streets of frisco. In a way, that helped me to know and grow into the person that I am today. Regardless of my youthful wisdom, I constantly find myself dodging the stones that are casted upon me. I'm sure many women can relate to my story, the story I'm about to share.

First, before I go further, I want to express great acknowledgement and love to all those who are at the mercy of the wicked elements, that's out on a daily fighting to see to it that we all live on our knees.

I didn't think for one minute that such a force would roam in my home. I am the head of my Queendom, and my family, my Po ridaz. These along with my God- given talent is all I have in the whole world. No money, no man and want to go somewhere, but can't. Faced with having to cope with the demise of my parents, and the suspicious death of my kid brother- all in less than a year, AND the left and right losses of many of my childhood friends, I pretty much got not a full plate, but a buffet to deal with on the table.

Even though it's hard as hell, I manage to hold down my job, be fierce at my writing, and raise my younginz' the best way I can-alone. Daddy's assistance comes 3 maybe 4 times a month (depending on availability) but even with so little contact, the home is not peaceful. We couldn't make it as a whole. Poppa's a Rollin' stone- I'm more settled.

After a messy divorce, I waited a long while before dating again, and then I met this man. First impression, this brotha was baadd! I mean sharp! People used to see us together walking like regal panthers together, calling us "Farrakhan & Ms. King." Well they called us that, due to the strong interests we shared when it came to the people. After almost two years of dating, I became pregnant, and six weeks into my pregnancy, poppa tha Rollin' stone rolled right out the picture. He didn't roll back in till massa' told him to. Egypt was almost eight months old by then.

The experience I had with this man was very traumatic for me. Arguing, pleading for his trust in the fact I carried his seed went in vain. Wanting him to be there when his child was born was not in his agenda. I made an appointment to terminate my pregnancy, because we were unwanted, but an angel intercepted- my mother! As she eased my pain, I can still hear her saying to me to this day: "Baby, imma tell you somethin' you are not the first single mother, and you won't be the last. Sistas have been raisin' children on their own since God gave us light. Hell, black women even raised Massa's children! Slight difference is that in dem days, more men were lynched, as compared to the men that walked out on their families. That is YOUR child inside you- a nation! You WILL NOT destroy the Queendom God has blessed you to birth!!! Once I felt Egypt kick, I knew this was my girl fo' life! I love her! Mama was right. So I had no choice but to go to the man to get info on this paternity test thing, cuz poppa was gone own up to his lil' Queen, one way or another! And sho nuff Oohh rollin' stone poppa She's yours! Take care!

It took a lot of prayer for strength and the ability to forgive, and before I knew it, here was this man back in our lives in the family way, but a stranger. Me bein' the woman that I am, I attempted to see if we can once again, bring back to life our relationship. I ended up compromising myself and allowing for him to build me up, just to let me down. Like I said- I allowed it, so sho nuff, he did it. That didn't make me feel like Queennandi AT ALL, and of course my spirit was uneasy. When I expressed my self worth, typically he'd make me feel like I done something wrong, puttin' me down n' stuff. I felt like he was all there was for me- until I looked into the mirror. I know my worth better than anyone else God put breath into. It seemed like every since my primary supporter (momz) passed, I have been under attack. I tell myself that I MUST stand strong! For me, and my children. MUST stay focused on the struggle! Poppa has gone maniacally wild, trying to fit HIS unstable friends into MY child's life and I'm not havin' none of that! Only QUEENNANDI'S hand rocks QUEENNANDI'S cradle!

I'm getting headaches from this man for my decision. I believe that whenever possible, a child should have both parents in his/her life, doing what needs to be done to keep things stable and peaceful. I love that more than anything. But when one parent goes buck wild it is the responsibility of the other parent to call the shots- and make judgments in favor of what's best for the child. Messy chicks and confused pregnant broads is something that doesn't fit into ANY child's life-period! Persecute me! What's right is right- wrong is wrong! I'll go thru the fire for my blessings, and that's what my kids are. They come first.

The sad thing is that the kids see mama & daddy's communication is shallow, and it's shameful that the babyâ's first words were War of the roses. Sometimes I think to myself “damn, haven't I been thru enough? This world is hell on my back already, now my so-called God given twin is gonna put more hell on me?! Then he is not my twin, but a angry soul in slumber. All I ever wanted was to make things right, and I got nothing for this, but a slap in the face! Sooo, as I handle this alone, keeping my queendom movin, I vow not to compromise myself no more! I refuse to fold! If centuries of spirit-breaking techniques didn't work, what makes a dormant man thinks HE can break QUEENNANDI?

I share this to say that I am an expert of everyday oppression, suffering, and resistance. I go thru this struggle, but I keep tha faith in my God to see me through the storms and on to victory. WOMEN OF THE WORLD!!! Your opposition will not last. Ya must learn to armor-up on your strength! You can do it! (Oh, yes you can!) Have faith in yourself! If I didnâ't believe in us, I never would've had the courage to uplift and motivate women NOT to sell themselves short, and to stand strong thru all persecution mentally, physically, emotionally. Also I would never have told my story.

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