I need to take time from my regularly scheduled program to tell a little story. It's been in my spirit and I finally got the push I needed to say what I have to say. ~Amaya
So this morning, I was talking to my bestie. She’s got a friend that I’ll call Sharayne. Sharayne was upset because the man she was messing around with—let’s call him Dwight—basically told her he didn’t see a future with her. She asked him this and he gave her an honest reply. Sharayne proceeded to cuss this man clean out and began crying to my bestie about how she’s ready to be married, she’s been praying for a husband, and all that.
Before I continue with this little saga, I need to provide a bit of context. I’m a Southern woman, as is my bestie, as is Sharayne. We all believe in God. Though what I’m about to say I truly believe crosses spiritual lines as well as geographic ones. Southern women, especially southern sistahs, are raised a certain way. We’re taught to cook, clean, keep house, and be great hostesses from the time we’re old enough to walk. We’re taught things that are excellent qualities in a wife because we’re expected to marry. Now, not every southern woman is like this, but a great many of them are. If you’re invited to my house, you can be sure of four things: it’s clean, it’s comfortable, there’s good food for you to eat, and I will take care of you as my guest. I will not have anyone over to my house if those criteria aren’t met, and my southern sistahs are the same way. It’s just the way we’re raised.
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