I want nights
That are quiet,
And still
Loud as thunder,
I want storms in
Oceans of sheets
And limbs pulling
Me further from
What I know into
All I want.
I want the quiet parts
Said out loud
And kisses made only
For me,
And all my inner light
Being bother magic
And woman lit
By you.
I want the now
and the present presence
Of what it means to be
Lost and still be found.
From sky above
And Earth beneath
I want to dream
Of setting future
Suns…
Again.
-JBHarris
It still matters
That the messages
Come in before
The morning sun.
Being the thought of
In the morning,
Thoughts of my
Kept by you
All night.
In that thought
Holds the everything
Else.
–Jennifer Bush-Harris, March 2021
One year ago this week, I was married. I was a mom. I was a healthcare worker in-between jobs, and I was a recent college graduate! I had planned on leaving healthcare and transitioning into education. I planned on pursuing my Masters in English (a possible MFA), and was even recommended by one of my mentors, Dr. Kimberly Welch, to pursue the Doctoral program.
I mean, Dr. Jennifer Harris, sounds formidable, doesn’t it?
And then COVID-19 abducted that future. The fight that would end my marriage completely was brewing, I felt it. There was no where to go, I hated being home, and ‘sheltering in place’ with someone that you have no desire to be with is a different type of Hell. While sheltering in place, I had to confirm my plan to leave the husband who claimed to love me, but had hurt me so badly that I would have rather slept outside than in his bed! I learned just what activities he was up to! All while trying to keep peace for the sake of my children.
What kicked it off? Me doing exactly what I’m doing right now: writing. I was at my computer, and he asked me why I wasn’t talking to him. I told him I wasn’t bothering him, and I was minding my business. Why did I say that?
And off it went. We argued. We screamed. And he asked me if I even wanted to be his wife anymore.
I, leaning against the wall, completely bereft said, “No.”
And the month of April was an exercise patience, being stealth, and having to do what you have to do with the world burning around you! I found a new job. I started a new job, full-time, with benefits. I found an apartment, looked at it and my mother got my deposit for it. I lied to the man that is now my ex constantly so he would leave me alone.
I still cooked. I still was gracious! I washed clothes and mopped floors. I still was a mom. I answered questions of children, I muddled my way through the beginnings of this quagmire of virtual learning. I mean, I even remember making Easter dinner last year, and all his favorites.
Kill ’em with kindness, right? WWJD, right?
And Saturday, April 25, 2020? He packed his things, and the last thing he asked me, “Can I have my keys?” And I haven’t seen him since. And I am relieved! Relieved! I was able to breathe for the first time in two years! In that relief, I had to mourn what was.
There would be no more 2-parent household. There would be no more grad school, no TA-ing for my mentor. My plans for my MFA were permanently on hold. I couldn’t leave healthcare–I needed the money to sustain myself and kids! I was back to being a single parent, after almost 7 years. I was no longer going to be a married woman. I had to do the dirty work of putting my life back together…while falling apart. Whatever ancestral faith imparted to me, and I forged, I tapped into. I tapped into. The days immediately following his leaving, I barely remember! I had a house to pack. I had to get to work! I had to get back from work!
After being employed for a month, I even remember the day–May 15, 2020–I called off work. A huge issue in health care anyway! I literally felt my body and mind say, “I cannot go on. I cannot do anymore! Whatever you are demanding me to do, I cannot do!” I called my best friend, Towanna, and told her what happened. She told me to take care of myself–and I did. I remember calling the Nursing Office, and robotically telling them–with proper 2-hour notice!–that I could not make it in. “I have an emergency with my children.” That was all I could muster. I thanked the woman that answered the phone, and I resumed laying down in the dark room with half of my possessions packed up in various rooms. I remember I laid in bed, tears breaking free from the prison of my own strength. I cried. Not loud, but I cried. I have been tired. I have even been exhausted! I have never been the level of tired where my entire being rebelled and shut down.
My children were with my mother and sister, so I could get back and forth to work (this was a lot of ride-sharing, and paying people gas money). A lot of groceries being delivered, and dealing with coming home to my lights being off (because he turned them off! They were in his name!), and him telling the landlord that we (myself and children) were gone! Imagine their surprise when I appeared out of the house after hearing noise in the backyard!
I had to pack a house, raise kids, and move my entire life to get back to where I had to get to. I decided that me was more important than the we! I had to mourn what was dead, and even what I helped to kill! With all that swirled around me, I didn’t die. I didn’t succumb! I didn’t quit! God truly kept me–He truly did!
From those early days of confusion, trying to get masks, and washing clothes every time I went outside–to being an a 2-bedroom apartment that catches the morning and evening light, where I see trees every morning. A pandemic didn’t kill me. A bad relationship couldn’t stop me. An abusive ex couldn’t, didn’t silence me. What this pandemic has taught me is I am stronger that what I thought, and had to become more resourceful that I ever thought.
Now, in this new ‘normal’, I pay my own rent. I am still employed, being an great mom–who keeps masks in her car. I am 2 months away from 40, and looking to buy a house. Is this a happily ever after? No. This is the next chapter being written. For that, I am grateful.
These are my first and final thoughts on this Jaxn Dilemma. Follow your girl on TikTok (@whatjayesaid).
I stumbled on Derrick Jaxn in the rabbit hole that is YouTube. I like how personable he was, and the fact that I thought he was handsome surely helped. I liked his approach to relationships, his advice made sense, and I even used it from time to time! I mean, I was solidly, #TeamJaxn. I followed him on social media (Twitter, YouTube) and even used his advice from time to time! I mean, I even shared his advice to some people (i.e. women) I knew!
Then, I started looking a little closer.
There was a live that I saw with him on it (it might have been on YouTube), at least two to three years ago, and he mentioned a baby. A new baby. When I heard that, I turned the live off. I had this question: “If you have all this wit, wisdom and knowledge, how do you have a Baby Mama and not a wife, sir?!” It was from there, that I quit listening to him. I want all of us as Black folk to win, and I left all that where it is.
And from there? Life is on fire this week! On fire! Completely!
Turns out Mr. Jaxn has been cheating on this woman, his wife, who is the mother of his daughter–the Baby Mama!–for a minute! Like?! What part of the game is this? According to the Facebook Live event they did as a couple earlier this week (which his wife, Da’Naia, said was her idea!) left me staring! And I mean, staring!
With the interest of full transparency, I have been the woman that has been cheated on. I have also been the wife that cheated. I own both of those identities! I can tell you that there is no greater pain than realizing the person you are building your life with has cheated on you–emotionally or physically. Also, there is nothing like believing the person that you re building your life with cannot be what you need–neither can they meet (or see) those needs you have expressed!
It hurts either way.
Yet, the thing that I find more glaring comes from this deep sense of a boundary being violated! According to his wife, DaNaia, said she had dealt with this a year before! A year! She went on to say that she left him–took the baby and bounced! Da’Naia said she told her husband, Social Media Sociologist and Relationship Guru, Derrick Jaxn that she wouldn’t come back to him until he decided what it was he wanted! Now, I can commend this! No one needs to be in any situation where they are hurt, exploited or abused. No one! Derrick and Da’Naia have said they have worked through these issues of cheating–which only came to light after one of the women that Derrick was involved with came forward. Why she chose to do this? Who can say.
But there was something in me that was so angry watching this Facebook Live event. Da’Naia is a woman that has leaned on her faith to get through this–and I commend her. I have done the same thing in times of extreme distress! But, as a woman that has been through more than a few mishaps, and situationships–I know hurt when I see it! With her dealing with this situation with her husband, the father of her child before, I cannot imagine what it took for her to sit on camera to be aired out again!
It could not be me! I cannot be me! I would have put out a statement and have that be it. With all the money and clout that her husband has, you couldn’t find someone to write a statement and just keep it moving? It is so hard for me to believe that she volunteered to do this Live, or that it was her idea! Especially, after this was posted on her own Instagram:
I’ll spare you the rest of the sorted details (and I apologize for the quality screenshot), but this here? This is what made me think that there is more here than either of them are saying! In this post, Da’Naia, says that she studied the flicks that Derrick made of these women on his phone! She studied the women’s bodies, down to the ‘secretions’! I’m sorry, what?! Sis–no! This is not God’s best for you! No! Even to find out that they have been on and off for twelve years before they got married?! Sis! What is this about!
Luvvie Ajayi Jones said that this is the problem with the church–it weaponizes the gospel! This is horrendous! As a woman of faith, I am appalled, confused and sad. The same gospel that freed me and strengthened me–looks to be the same gospel being used to imprison her! Women are always expected to stay by husbands whom have done horrible things! Yet, you don’t see many men that do the same for their wives as publicly! I understand that love covers a multitude of sins–I get that, and am grateful for it. However, when is enough enough? When do we make the differentiation between gospel and gaslighting?
Derrick cheated on his wife, Da’Naia.
Da’Naia forgave her husband, Derrick, that cheated on her.
Who are we to judge that? What I will say is, people will only do what they are allowed to do. I cannot imagine what it is to be aired out twice like this! In front of the world! Again! Derrick and Da’Naia also have books they are selling–about relationships as well. How convenient? I cannot imagine what she is going through, because this does not seem to be over soon. Even now there are still women coming forward–with screenshots! Chile…how long Da’Naia? How long? God has more for you than to be this embarrassed…on a regular basis.
If they can really come back from infidelity (not everyone can!), I wish them God’s best. If they cannot, if it becomes too much, then she knows what she needs to do next. God indeed be her strength.
There’s magic in the water
I’ll make you hunger and thirst for righteousness you have never sampled
for a goddess is who is brown as earth
and loud as thunder once you master crescendos who hides orchestras inside of her belly as you begin to be key in her lock
I will show you the world
with your eyes closed
and just how marvelous your world
can be once you find the right tempo
I can give you
what you’ve only dreamed of…
what you thought you could never have…
I can give you all you see…
I am night
I am power,
I am rhythm and blues,
I am hives of honey,
With all lips made from sugar.
There is no need
To give the unworthy
Or lazy such access to
Attention for my blessings…
Thick and rich as sunsets and moonlight.
No need to give samples
When ownership is what
Is called for…
because such power cannot be left unchecked
I am desire
I am more, and
I am comfort
I am storm.
I am all the ocean it washes away the cares of the day and yet I have chosen you…
-JBHarris, 1.3.3021
Allow me this:
I have neither answer
nor cure for this.
He is me in side that I-
Both warning and comfort
Ocean and storm
Which allows Us to
Exist and always be.
-JBHarris, 01.11.2021
I told you so. I TOLD y’all this wasn’t going to work–like at all. The thing that find so hilarious about this situation is he says he is embarrassed about Cardi’s lyrics–his wife now!–to ‘WAP.‘
The man that cheated on his wife with at least two women, and possibly has an outside baby with or by another one, but mad that his wife wrote lyrics about her WAP. Yet, he is out her chasing other WAP. The dissonance is a super power. I mean, truly! You want to know why toxic patriarchy is trash? Here is the prime example. There is a class of man whom think once they sleep with you, they own you! This same trash logic is what gave Carmello Anthony the cajones to tell the world and I quote:
“My wife [Lala Anthony] is married. I’m not.”
So, him being offended or embarassed about his wife singing about how dope and satisfying her vagina is, rather than be embarassed about his behavior says alot. So he’s not upset that he hurt his wife; embarassed himself; embarassed his daughter, family and these girls he was cheating with. You, Offset, are mad at the woman you married and impregnated, that she made a song about her WAP, while you were seeking out or falling into OPP/WAP. But you mad at her? Her?!
Yeah. This is Hotepian common sense.
She isn’t allowed to be mad, hurt or embarrassed because she is HIS, right? Which entitles him to the most base, banal, basic behavior! And he won’t acknowledge his own behavior in the demise of this professional situationship! He wanted a pretty girl to show off (and do bad!); having her on lock while he did what he wanted, like he wanted.
The killer part is she loved him. A lot. You can tell that.
I truly believe as this situation progresses, he is not going to leave this relationship quietly. I really don’t! I say that from the vantage point of having to contend with a man whom I used to be with–sleep with!–and because I wanted the relationship over? He decided to make the life I wanted without him, miserable! Spoiler: I kept living my best, Black life.
Cardi has money and time, and the rest of her twenties! The last thing she needs is to be attached to a man that doesn’t value her, want her, respect her or think that she is less than who she is! She is greater than her WAP, yes, but she owns all she is–being a wife of this man-child didn’t stop that. She and Kulture deserve better.
Offset need to grow up, and stop letting his penis determine the caliber of his manhood. The question remains that when/where are the men around him going to tell him that the length of his peen, his WAP sonar, and his ‘ability’ to make a woman holler will never make him the man he think he is.
But, this is 2020. Trash peen energy is running the world. Chile, money is an accessory to unattractive men. Remember that.
[image from billboard.com]
This piece is in the collection of Love Songs Of The Unrequited. Click here to find your copy. -JBHarris
Find me here
clean, soft and sweet
embrace and caress
all that you see
I lay before you open
humble and accepting
brush away the colored petals
and reveal warm flesh
supple and delicate
taste if you wish
uncover what I have
kept warm in anticipation
of what is true and pure
that I have found in you
I lie here a sacrifice of
will and a testament to
patience of want
remove petals that guard eyes,
their lids, nose and lips,
allow the sun to bathe me
cup the face that sleeps soundly,
study me
see that I have not let
those that were unworthy to touch
taste, embrace me
smooth back the hair that falls
in my face, over the ears,
see petals fall from the strands
watch me awaken in
your arms, needy and wanting
happy that you have found me
that you have me
that you have wanted only me
kiss coated coaxing drawing me
nearer to you and you into me
keep this moment as I will
I wish not for what
was or isn’t nor do I
pretend to neither grasp for what
is not there
take me as I am
and forget me not,
keep me in the quiet of
dream and embrace me
as dawn arises while the
twilight leaves
delve, swim, drown in
my depths for you and
you allow know its fathoms…
Give all of you to me
Jennifer-Phylon Bush (now Harris) August 4, 2004
I have few guilty pleasures, fam. But one of them is infamous Netflix show, YOU. I must confess, I saw Season 1, before I read the first book. And I read the second book (Hidden Bodies) before Season 2 began not even a week ago!
But as dynamic as Penn Badgley is, his portrayal of Joseph “Joe” Goldberg is amazing and creepy AF! In the first season (I hadn’t read the book, mind you), I thought Joe was cute and smart and the fact he worked in a bookstore? Bonus.
How Kepnes wrote the book, and the writers crafted the story, you overlook the fact that Joe (in the words of the now deceased Guinevere Beck), “creeps into girls’ lives and violating the shit out of them!”
Let me just focus on the show, because the books is so much better, but bear with me.
In the age of instant access, Snapchat and Google Maps, it’s so easy to dismiss that dude Googled the girl–and then showed up at her house.
It’s easy to dismiss that dude followed her schedule through her public posts, and like just happened to show up where she would be at.
Fam. In a parallel universe (i.e. this reality), if a strange man shows up outside your house? You wouldn’t be utterly thrilled to say the least.
But, we love Joe!
He’s well read, handsome, simple, relatively good-natured and tries his best for the woman he’s with! He wants her happy, safe and cared for!
Now, these same things were said about Theodore Robert Bundy (read the Phantom Prince and watch The Bundy Tapes on Netflix).
This image: Black Twitter strikes again!
But…we love Joe. I have repeatedly said I would have dated him because he’s intelligent. I have also said that if I would have been like Beck, and found his love stash/stalker pile in a wall or the ceiling, I would have just left it there! That shit has NOTHING to do with me. And the bad part? I’m not the only woman who has said this! But why do we love him? Why is Caroline Kepnes’s version of Bundy so attractive?
Simple.
We, as women, want to be chosen!
We want to be loved, cared for and lion protected. We want the security of knowing the person we would do anything for, would do anything for us.
Joe killed the dude that didn’t respect or honor Beck.
Joe killed the girl that tried to take her from him–whom he warned Beck about.
Joe also affirmed Beck, told her how brilliant she was; how she needed to do what made her happy. He respected her space (sorta) and her intelligence.
He loved her.
But he also killed her because she rejected his love for her.
But, we focus on the fact he saved her from the train. Put her IKEA bed together, and played Scrabble in her apartment.
Joesph Goldberg is effing dangerous!
But so is the world women inhabit.
The saged and wizened Penn Badgley has continuously said Joe is not a good dude–and shouldn’t be idolized! But, we do, don’t we?
He opens doors, studies you, knows your favorite flower and where you take your coffee breaks. He’s the one. Moreover, you have to check you own moral compass because at some point–I started cheering for Joe! I saw Beck this monstrous thing that had to be destroyed.
Dude.
I told a writer friend of mine that even though Joe is crazy, he needs to stay on squad! I believe there’s a vernacular around these types of activities that says, “I paint houses.” Joe paints houses–but, the thing is, just as he said in Season 1: “We sometimes do bad things for the people we love.”
Shakespeare says, “Love is but a madness.” My father said, “If a man likes you just a little bit, you’ll be amazed what he’ll do for you.” When love, broken boys, sex and obsession congeal–you get Henry Hill with a Shax complex. That’s our Joe!
Fairy tales and classic mythology regale us with tales of knights saving damsels in distress, scaling towers, killing wolves and witches to save fair damsels. What we forget is sometimes the dragon isn’t the one you think it is.
With that in mind, there’s a third book to this series being written. I’m anxiously awaiting that release! And I’m still rooting for Joe to get his happily ever after. Why? It’s nice to be chosen. And it’s safer to have a dragon on a leash than out in the world.
Claddagh Ring Meaning
A popular piece of Celtic culture, the Claddagh signifies love, friendship, and loyalty. Traded among close friends and those in a romantic, committed relationship, a Claddagh portrays two hands holding a heart, topped with a crown.
The Claddagh is most often seen in a ring, but it can be expressed in necklaces and earrings as well. Some common reasons people wear Claddagh include:
(Taken from Google)
I’ve always been a romantic. I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps this is my artistic nature. With that said, it is of no surprise really, that I kept a ring from a young man that I once wanted to give my everything.
I was 18, you see. I was. In love and a fresh-faced nursing student. I was in love with the idea of adulthood, American Movie Classics and this guy named Daniel Nelsen. In my years of dating, I never found a sweeter dude. He asked me to marry him. Sent me a key to his house, and said I was his everything.
Like with all young women eager for the world and its holdings, I’d break up with him when I wanted to date someone else. He was in New York, and didn’t leave. He’d take me back when I wanted and I did this to him for 2 years. Until, I finally told him how I was treating him was wrong.
In the madness of our coming together and leaving, he told me to pick out a ring. I was about to be chose chose! I wanted this ring to be distinct, unique and totally unlike any other I had ever seen.
I got the idea that I wanted a Claddagh ring from a Nora Roberts novel. She’s always so proud of her Emerald Isle heritage and this ring sounded like something I would love. That I have to have. Even now, so many years removed from wearing one I can spot on and the dating status of person wearing it.
I remember the weight of it, how gorgeous it was. And it meant more to me than any jewelry I had ever owned. And our breakup was amicable, for the most part. And I haven’t spoken to him sense. There was no need to.
That’s ring replicated itself with my last serious boyfriend. I wanted one, I wanted that affirmation of what was unique and special about our relationship. When that shattered, I kept the ring. Which is odd for me. I kept this ring and stored it. I cannot tell you why.
It was only during a recent move that the small white box was unearthed. I saw the tarnished silver ring and thought. Not about the guy, but about–loss.
The loss of time.
The loss of future, and alternate nows.
I thought about how I allowed myself to be the damsel in distress waiting on someone to save me–waited for the kiss in the glass coffin; save from the spinning wheel; rescued from the tower.
Yet, those before were not strong enough to stay. Or desired to rescue. I thought about trust I had given. Willingly. Pieces of me I gave away. Willingly. I thought about how none of what I gave to them could ever be given back to me. Ever. Conversely, nothing I did to them could ever be made right.
I lost what I could not replace or barter or hustle for more of: time.
I wept because the ring, with its tarnish, remembered.
I Breathe Fire 