Chloe Bailey, The truth about sexuality as you age, and why you really hate women

Happy Black History month. Celebrate by leaving Black women alone :)

Hey folks... it’s been a while. I know. Your girl has been busy thinking about a lot, getting my life together and trying to survive. Over the last few months, I contemplated why I even started this blog, what I wanted to say and what I hoped it could do. And just when I thought, maybe we don’t need another woman talking about sexual liberation (especially when I’m not getting any)... here you niggas go. From WAP, to this Chloe thing, yall have been busy and so here I am. *deep negro sigh* For clarity, if this feels like I’m not talking to men, well, I’m not really because I don’t particularly like them. 

I’ll start by talking about my own sexual evolution (which unfortunately is at a stall as COVID kills my ho phase). Similar to Chloe, and I’m sure many women, at 22 I was still struggling with my own body. I was size 4. I went to the gym 6 days a week and ate not much more than oranges and salad to maintain it. Undoubtedly looking for some sort of validation though I wasn’t sure from who. I was still learning to value my own opinion first. Learning to love my own body, appreciate it, and have agency over it. I was discovering the reality around my sexuality, and the emotions it would inspire in others. Learning that all the hate wasn’t about me and conversely, the praise I received wasn’t either. 

I had to learn, at times painfully, that my body was not my own. That my sexuality was a pawn in a war about respectability, control and consumption. That people would project things on to me in defense of the world they created for themselves. At each age, and each size, I had to rediscover my sexuality and recalibrate what the world’s reaction to it meant to and for me. 

Which brings me to my rant today. First and foremost, I am #teamChloe. And you need to get with the winning team, ho

Women who defend misogyny deserve a roundhouse kick straight to the face. Agreeing with these niggas has never made anyone’s life easier. They will still kick you to the curb the minute you don’t fall in line… hell, sometimes even if you do stay in line. Because this isn’t actually about you, or the convoluted rules they’ve instituted. It’s about them maintaining control and power using distraction.

“The function, the very serious function of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work. It keeps you explaining, over and over again, your reason for being...None of this is necessary. There will always be one more thing”

— Ms. Toni Morrison

Now, Ms. Toni is talking about racism, but her words really opened my mind to think about the mechanics of oppression differently. How the act of seeking approval of or proving something to a group of people already cements your place as lesser than. How it keeps us busy trying to prove, instead of trying to be. So, I’m sad to see the girls pressed when Chloe posts a couple photos, coming in droves ready to enforce the rules of misogyny on behalf of ashy niggas everywhere.  Writing dissertations to prove their own worthiness by criticizing the actions of a 22 year old young woman. Remove the shackles, damn. 

 Some women, in addition to looking for validation and approval of ashy niggas, are just straight jealous. Jealous that a young woman —according to the bullshit beauty standards they didn’t create but still uphold — would actually kick their ass in terms of hierarchy. So, they try to tear down those who they wish they could compete with. They cling to the  “socially acceptable” things they have to validate themselves but still seek validation all the same. There is a world where we could just do our own thing. There is a world where  we don’t tear other women down to make ourselves feel whole. We all have more important things to be doing. 

 And there’s another group of women. Or if we’re really honest, most women have been all of these women at one point in their life, myself included. Women who are jealous that there are women who are free enough, empowered enough, bold enough to pay these niggas dust. When you’ve invested your life and identity into a culture of modesty, and see someone “winning” by breaking the rules, anger makes sense. But who are you really mad at? It isn’t Chloe’s fault you’re repressing your identity for fleeting validation. She is not holding you back. When you participate in the shaming that took place on Beyonce’s internet this week, you’re building your own prison tweet by tweet. 

So, I  say all that to say this: You don’t have to participate in the game and these niggas are certainly not the prize.