I am a bit angry.
With YOU.
Yea, you, beloveds.
ALL of you.
Why?
If I have to tell you, beloveds, I would HAVE to remove my cape, the one I promised never to don again.
Yet, I find myself wrapped up, trying to warm myself beneath this Superwoman cape.
Crap.
Fresh hell!
Capes don’t work. Not really. And, not for long.
Capes make us hide.
From, life.
From, our true feelings.
From, hell, from any and everything that ever can and ever has caused us hurt.
I hurt.
See!
I admit it.
Fresh hell!!!
*Cassandra rips off her cape, snatches her Clark Kent glasses off the side table, thrust them on and prepares to be human again*
Fresh hell.
*sigh*
Busted.
Caught.
Pulled aside.
By, God.
By, Life.
By, my heart.
In an attempt to get me to admit, if only just to me, that I have been in hiding since my young friend passed away.
It is why, me and that damned bowl of chili are STILL eyeing one another, warily, each time I open the fridge.
It is why, I have stopped my daily blog reading, not allowing myself the fun, the comfort, the joy in yakking daily to folk hither and yon
It is why, I have not bounded about, like a friendly golden retriever, looking to encourage this one, have fun with that one, see what life is up to with this, wonder what life will do about that.
It is why, I have my building projects building up and staring at me wondering when they will be able to come out and play.
It is why, my fingers no longer rush to the keyboard, anxious to know will come spilling clumsily from my heart, mind and mouth.
It is why, my heart is no longer pining for the ocean, no longer straining to dip my toes into waves anxious to hug my ankles close.
It is why, my soul is not begging for an opportunity to try and see where gifts given to me, could be used to see what I and Life and God could/would make out of them.
It is why, the tiger in me, even now, the kitty in me, have grown silent, still, pensive.
Because, I am a bit angry, with you.
All of you, beloveds.
Why?
Because you make me care. And, to my surprise, I don’t want to care. Not so much. Okay, so not at all, since my friend passed away.
I didn’t even realize it. Not until, this morning. I was texting a friend. Told her I was missing our friend. Told her I was feeling a bit angry about her. Angry, she was taken so young. Dammit.
My friend told me to “think happy thoughts”. My response verbatim was:
Me: Fuck happy!
Yikes. I HATE that word. Absolutely hate it and find it sooooooooooooooo crude. Yet, the moment the word came out, out LOUD, my heart sighed. I promise it did.
My heart sighed, and released all the pent up feelings it had been holding onto all this time.
What was super surprising, to me, was the feeling I had. It wasn’t, anger. It wasn’t even, sadness. Just sheer relief of being able to FEEL, to EXPRESS something. Anything.
Before that, I was being so damned careful:
Careful, to feel the RIGHT things.
Careful, to feel, the RIGHT things, the RIGHT way.
Careful, to NOT feel, the WRONG things.
Careful, to NOT feel, the WRONG things, at the WRONG time(s).
Careful to, do the right thing, eat the right thing, uplift the right way, encourage the right way.
As a woman, particularly a woman of color, I had to also be sure to set the right example as I bear the weight of my community, of my race, of my gender, of my this and that to ensure that those following behind me will get the chance to do whatever, be whatever. Other races, you see, do NOT have to account for their EVERY breath. Every last damned one of them. If we, if I, as a woman, as a person of color, step, outside the lines, or color, outside the lines, why…apparently the world will end for the rest of the entirety of the population(s) of people of color in the entirety of the whole damned world!
So, here I sit, dumbfounded, confounded, astounded that my heart felt nothing but relief at being able to feel whatever the hell I wanted to feel without the constraint, without the ‘halfto’, without the ‘needto’.
It is simply amazing what one can find behind Clark Kent eyesight. May find a ‘Fuck you’ or two or three there.
Yikes!
Egads!
And now, with me, here, now, wearing my Clark Kents, I find myself really wanting to say all manner of things, out LOUD. OUTLOUD!
I find myself, beloveds, wanting to fuss with you, just a bit. I want to run around, snatching off capes. Every one. I want to shake folk. I want to tell them to let their kitty out, dammit! I want to kick them in the hind end, until they get mad enough to let their tiger roar. I want to bang on doors hollering for folks to LOOK at one another, to TALK to one another.
All of that, of this, takes too much energy. I find myself, eyeing that damned cape.
*Cassandra reaches for….*
F-, the cape.
It ain’t easy being Clark Kent.
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe

- SUNDAY WITH CASSANDRA. IT ME!
- MOVIE SATURDAY WITH CASSANDRAππ¬π©πΏβπ¦ΌπΏπ
- (no title)
- Today…
- π¬ MAYBE THEY WEREN’T βTOO BLACK.β MAYBE I WAS STILL HOLDING THE RULER. πͺπBeloveds,I told you I caught myself watching Black romance movies and thinking:Too loud.Too boisterous.Too Black.π³And the Holy Spirit convicted me.Then I watched Deliver Us from Eva.WHEW.πBecause suddenly I wasn’t only watching Eva.I was looking at the ruler I sometimes used to measure everybody.Let’s start with Eva.She’s intelligent, professional, beautiful, protective, loving, bossy, controlling, loyal and complicated.All of it.πShe doesn’t have to become either the Angry Black Woman Who Needs Taming or the Strong Black Woman Whose Every Choice Must Be Defended.Eva needs correction AND Eva deserves dignity.She helped raise her sisters after their parents died. Protection became part of her identity.But eventually protection sometimes became control.βοΈ If I don’t manage everybody, everything will fall apart.π I can love grown people without controlling grown people.Her sisters need a key too.You cannot keep handing somebody the clipboard to your life and then get mad because she keeps writing on it.π€£Eva has to stop managing.Her sisters have to start owning.Everybody gets a chair.πͺAnd YESβTHE MEN TOO.π€£πͺπͺπͺπͺRay begins by deceiving Eva.That matters.But eventually βthe problemβ becomes a person to him.Eva.And Ray changes.π Sometimes genuinely knowing somebody destroys the caricature we created from a distance.But Ray deserves his own humanity too.He’s working, dreaming, saving, flawed, funny, romantic, masculine and tender.He doesn’t need to become a CEO before he’s worthy of love.There’s that ten-times-better ruler again.πThen Mike.Mike has a legitimate frustration with Eva’s interference.His solution?SIR. SIT DOWN.πͺπ€£Because here’s another key:π A legitimate grievance does not automatically make every remedy legitimate.Pain deserves acknowledgment.Choices still require accountability.Then Tim made me ask:What does a Black man have to look like before we consider him βman enoughβ?Dominant?Always in charge?Never soft?Never uncertain?Why?Tim doesn’t need more masculinity.He needs his voice.πA loud Black woman shouldn’t have to shrink.A quieter Black man shouldn’t have to perform dominance.Both get chairs.And Darrell?π€£Some people are intellectual heavyweights.And some people areβ¦Darrell.π€£β€οΈHE GETS A CHAIR TOO.Intelligence isn’t the admission price for dignity.Sophistication isn’t the admission price for love.Black people are allowed to be ordinary.Goofy.Messy.Wrong.Funny.Tender.Brilliant.Ridiculous.Rich.Poor.Loud.Quiet.Human.And suddenly the Holy Spirit’s conviction went deeper.Maybe I had become nervous when Black characters weren’t representing us βwell enough.βWhat will THEY think?Why are they so loud?Why aren’t they more polished?More educated?More professional?More respectable?Moreβ¦acceptable?π³And suddenly I’m not watching a movie.I’m conducting a performance review of Blackness.βοΈThat’s exhausting.Because Black characters should not have to carry the reputation of an entire people on their backs.And sometimes, without realizing itβwe help load the backpack.That was part of what the Holy Spirit showed me.Not merely:Cassandra, look at them.But:Cassandra, look at your ruler.πWho handed it to you?Why are you still carrying it?And I knew part of the answer.Ten times better.There was love and survival inside what Black folk taught me.They were preparing me for an unfair world.But:βYou may have to be ten times better to receive the opportunityβcan quietly become:βBlack people SHOULD be ten times better.βNO.β€οΈβπ©ΉI reject that.Black excellence is beautiful.Black dignity is unconditional.Eva gets correction and dignity.Ray gets tenderness and accountability.Mike gets frustration and responsibility.Tim gets quietness and voice.Darrell gets goofiness and dignity.The sisters get love and agency.Nobody has to become less Black.Nobody has to become ten times more human.EVERYBODY GETS A CHAIR.πͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺπͺAnd maybe that’s what the Holy Spirit was really asking me:Cassandra, why are you still holding the ruler?π³My answer?I’m learning to put it down.πAnd maybe you have one too.Race.Education.Disability.Age.Money.Accent.Religion.Politics.Body size.Mental illness.Addiction.Sexuality.Somebody whose life simply doesn’t look like yours.Don’t perform an answer for me.Be honest with you. For, HIM.ππΏWhat ruler are you carrying?Who handed it to you?Who have you measured with it?Have you measured yourself with it too?And if the Holy Spirit is showing it to you, maybe He isn’t giving you the ruler so you can beat yourself with it.Maybe He’s saying:Child. You don’t need that anymore.Put it down.πβ€οΈβπ©ΉPull up your chair.πͺLet somebody else pull up theirs.And let people be fully human in front of you.Includingβyou.π©πΏβπ¦ΌππΏβ€οΈβπ₯πAsking for A Friend,Cassandra#YourLifeMattersToMeNote: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on beingβ¦YOU!Unapologetically His.Unapologetically yours.








