the Super Sistah Blog

Be Super. Watch Yourself Soar

Warrior War Cry January 25, 2011

I can see it now, Rocky running up the stairs with his hands thrown in the air.  The music is blaring in his ears making him take the steps two at a time. No one can stop him.  He’s invincible.  I can see it now, Lenox Lewis entering the stadium with his white silk hood covering the dreads of his hair.  In the background the DJ blasts, “I’m going to chase those crazy baldheads out of town.” The crowd goes wild. That’s his jam. The Rastafarian boxer uses the Bob Marley classic to strike fear into his close-cropped challengers.  He’s Sampson and his hair is his strength. His music makes him powerful.

Every woman needs a theme song. It’s the song that is going to motivate and energize us when life gets us down.  It’s the song that you put into your CD player and turn it up full blast.  It’s the song that speaks to who you are and inspires you to settle into your fighting stance when people come to do battle. It uplifts and it warns your enemies not to mess or they’ll have a fight on their hands.

The rapper Kool Moe Dee wrote a song just for me.  It’s the song that makes me sing out loud and launch into the running man no matter whose watching.  If I’m down it gives me life.  My choice is very fluorescent socks and acid wash jeans but I don’t care.  I didn’t choose my song.  It chose me. From the moment I heard the chorus, “how ya like me now?” I knew that it was my war cry. The song settled into my soul and took root.  It was the song that I was going to sing when all my dreams were realized. I would ask the haters, “how ya like me now?” If someone doubted my talent, told me I couldn’t do something and proclaimed that I would fail, the minute I proved them wrong, I would ask the question, “how ya like me now?” It’s the theme song for the underdog and it fits me perfectly. I don’t play it all the time. I don’t play it everyday. I play it when life gets tough; when I’m on the verge of failing or giving up. I play it when I think I can’t go on. I play it in my head so much that the real song isn’t necessary.  I can succeed. I can win. My song says I can.  Cultivate a theme song and if you don’t have one borrow mine temporarily.  Win at everything.  When you have defeated all your detractors ask them with only the barest hint of sarcasm, “how ya like me now?”


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the Super Sistah Video Blog December 17, 2010

Not all women are super heroes but all are meant to be. Be Super. Watch yourself Soar!

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Eat a Tiger with Little Chews December 13, 2010

How do you eat a Tiger? With little chews. If you have ever been overwhelmed by trying to pursue your dreams then you know how daunting trying to succeed can be. Recently I had a chat with my sister.  She’s trying to be Super but is struggling.  I instantly gave her some encouragement. What kind of success coach would I be if I didn’t help my family? Usually when any of us start something new we are overwhelmed by the vastness of our ambitions and the energy required to scale mountains, slay dragons and banish thoughts of doubt and insecurity. We want to succeed but we think failure is a real option.  Soon our doubts become our reality and we give in and give up. No can do.  It’s important to understand that every day is an opportunity to succeed.  No one wakes up and is miraculously sitting in the penthouse with a Bentley parked outside sipping cocktails with P.Diddy.  How you grasp your dreams is by one action, step and move at a time.  Every stamp licked, every bill paid, every resume sent and every class taken is a step in the right direction. Those who try to do everything at once usually find themselves frustrated and defeated.

Think of success as a dripping faucet.  Every drop of water is merging with previous drops.  The water line is rising until it reaches uncontrollable levels and overflows.  Once the water escapes the confines of the sink it has broken through and can no longer be contained. Every day is an opportunity to burst the pipe and get the things you want and need. The sun should never set on your day without having tackled some problem, made some progress or done something (anything) that is taking you steadily in the direction you want to go.  A tiger is a big animal with many parts but even the most insignificant of us can have him for a meal if we eat him diligently.

“BURPPPPPPPP………!” Excuse me everyone, how rude. Forgive me, I launched my website today(www.thesupersistah.com) and wrote this blog so still have bits of tiger between my teeth. I’m not satisfied, are you? Bon Appétit.

Eat him before he eats you.

 

 

Envy – The New Green October 22, 2010

Envy is a sin. Ask anybody. No need to consult your Bible.  It’s one of the seven deadly sins.  Trust me. As I write this the Super is green. Not the fashionable forest color but the green of guacamole and late night drinking.  I’m the color of wasabi sauce minus the sushi.  I’m the hue of Kermit when he’s feeling killer and cryptic. Not good green. I wish I could say I envied my friend with the wicked ride and banging body or the co-worker with the corner office.  That kind of envy is popular and expected. If I said I was jealous of my friend’s new fiancé or her bitchin’ apartment facing the park, that too would be understandable. Those wants are accessible and within reach.  They’re nothing that a degree, a Match.com profile and a gym membership can’t obtain. Instead I’m jealous of make-believe; fiction and Hollywood fantasy made just for your movie screen. For the first time the Super wished for a moment that she had the life of a barely post-pubescent Jewish boy. His name? Mark Zuckerberg.  I watched the movie the Social Network and was astounded that the creator of Facebook is the youngest billionaire on earth. Now if you’re going to be green then it’s best to have thoughts of jealousy the color of money.
It would be more realistic if I wanted to be Wonder Woman, the Bionic Woman or the X-Men’s Storm. I have a better chance of lifting a ten-ton car with my bare hands than accomplishing what the Facebook founder did in just a century. I wonder what fuels him? Accomplishing all that he has must mean he has 24 carat ambition. Why him but not me?. I need some of the inspiration he’s drinking. All I know is that to get anything done you must have a fire burning inside. Doubts, fear and disbelief can’t be a part of your psyche. We can have everything we want. Having vision and drive is the beginning.  You have to see the finish line first and then make the first tentative steps.  Forcing yourself out of immobility is the hardest part. In order to fly you have to be willing first to take a step and then a leap. Are you stuck in place or are you leaping?

 

The Most Super Sistah October 12, 2010

People are losing jobs, homes are being foreclosed upon and the state of the economy and America’s financial future is at risk.  Things are looking bad for a good portion of the population but as the gospel artist Donnie McClurkin sings, We All Fall Down, But We Get Up.  So instead of worrying about things I can’t change, I’m making plans–big plans for the future.  These plans center around a Google search I did recently.  I typed my name into the engine and what I found invigorated me, inspired me and quite frankly lit a fire under my ass.  When I looked myself up on the internet I found nothing. Nada.  Zip.  As far as Google was concerned I was a non-entity.  Now I know this shouldn’t affect me nor have any impact on my self-worth but it still left an impression.  Right then and there I decided something important:  I wasn’t going to be anonymous.  Like Zorro’s signature Z, I planned to carve my name into the side of the planet and let the S blaze.  I would make an impact and endeavor to be more Super than even the most accomplished Sistah.  The plan centered on being the most successful me.

The Man of Steel who? When people thought of the word Super it would be my name called and then Superman after me.  Some are already calling me delusional but they only think so because they have yet to see me put thought into action. I’m conceiving my ambitions first before I make them into reality.  We all have to have goals right?  As I write yet another blog for a slow-growing fan base, I’m a regular human being with only super-powered ambition. But the seeds of power grow first in the mind before they can bloom in the heart and spread out across the land.  Today I’m dreaming.  I’m dreaming that the next time I Google my name, my name will dominate the first three pages exclusively.  I’m dreaming that when I examine my heart it is filled with the pride of my accomplishments and a peace that comes from knowing that I have lived up to my greatest potential.

I can’t find my name in the search engine today.  But the day is just beginning.  I don’t know about you but my ambition is to see myself on Mount Olympus with the rest of the Gods and Oprah Winfrey.  I’ll race you to the top of the mountain.  Do you think that you can beat me?

 

The Baddest Bitch August 19, 2010

Filed under: Beauty/Health,Personal Improvement — thesupersistah @ 9:57 pm
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There were times in my life, many times actually, when I didn’t feel beautiful.  There were times when I compared myself to other women and found myself lacking.  Usually these instances occurred when a boyfriend said or did something that made me question my attractiveness and my sense of worth.  My reasoning was that the other girl must have something that I didn’t have or my man wouldn’t have strayed.  Yeah, I was a knucklehead, I know.  When you’re having these types of insecurities and developing these types of complexes there are usually not a lot of people you can admit your doubts to.  Who wants to appear that vulnerable, that weak or that foolish when we have worked so hard to make our public personas bulletproof?  If we do find the courage, we usually seek someone we trust who won’t laugh in our face.  In my case that person was mom.  

When I told my mother my ex had a new girlfriend that I suspected might be prettier than me, Mom didn’t soothe me by laying my head against her breast and humming a gospel song in a high, soothing falsetto.  She didn’t swoop me up and rock me in her arms like a five-year old child and croon Sam Cooke’s, Change Gonna Come in a soft lullaby. She didn’t reassure me that I had other fine qualities and that looks weren’t everything—advice straight from Good Parenting 101.  Instead, because she’s my mother and therefore inherently a bad ass, her immediate response to my complaint was, “yeah she might be pretty but her puss probably stinks.  She probably needs a bottle of Lysol to keep that coochie clean.”   

I was shocked, stunned—rendered speechless. Whereas I’d responded with doubt, hurt and insecurity to the competition, Mom’s reaction— immediate and flat-out rejection.   I couldn’t believe those words had come out dear old mom’s mouth.  They were so crass, so cruel, so…..comforting.  I stared at her in wonder, my eyes roaming over her face to see if she was serious.  She didn’t even blink.  Fascinating.   

In that moment I learned that there were a lot of things I inherited from my mother.  Her take no prisoner self-confidence didn’t make it.  Wish it had.  No matter what the world might say about mom, no one can dent her self- esteem.  Regardless of what the looking-glass might reveal to her, bump the rapper Trina, mom is by far the Baddest Bitch.  I decided in that moment that if I inherited nothing else, I wanted her to bequeath her confidence to me.  Since it wasn’t naturally in my DNA I bowed at the altar of her wisdom and begged her to teach me.   

Supposedly the secret to resisting comparison and insecurity is this: no matter what the other girl looks like she can’t compare.   No matter what traits she possess that you envy, she still can’t match up.  According to mom every pretty girl has a problem, insecurity and a flaw.  Our job is not to discover them but to blindly reject any notion that the next woman is even remotely in our league.  The lesson wasn’t easy to take in.  It seemed so simple that it was almost baffling.  “Let me get this straight, mom. The trick is blind belief in myself to the exclusion of all else? That’s it? Where’s the map to the secret temple? Where’s the elixir I drink that makes me irresistible? Where’s the fairy godmother with beauty secrets and wishes?” It seemed there was no magic.  All I needed was a belief in myself and apparently a bit of a potty mouth.   

Mom is nearing retirement age; I wonder if it took her all her years to develop her unshakeable self-concept?  If it did, I better get started.  It’s going to take me at least twice that long to believe in myself that completely.     

Besides mom, are you the Baddest Bitch?  

The Fairest and the Baddest of them all

 

I AM. Who are you? August 10, 2010

Filed under: Spiritual/Religion,Success — thesupersistah @ 9:57 pm
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Don’t quote me, but when Jesus was asked to identify himself, he didn’t list his occupation: teacher or Rabbi.  He didn’t distinguish himself by naming his parents: Mary and Joseph and son of the most high G.O.D.  Holla. He didn’t drop the name of any illustrious and famous friends: brethren of John the Baptist.  Instead, he answered the question about his identity with just two words. I AM.  A world of meaning is wrapped up in those tiny words and says so much about the speaker.  It says that he’s confident, that he’s in touch with his inner truth and that no one needs to tell him who he is because he knows already. Our name is our identity—our essence. It says who we are and declares our purpose. It lifts us out of obscurity and individualizes us. What’s in a name?  Everything! The holy one had it right.  I’m digging his swagger. I want his confidence. You should want it too.  It shouldn’t be too hard. After all doesn’t God live in everybody?

The toughest advice anyone ever gave me was to be myself.  It shouldn’t have been difficult, right? I liked myself. I felt good about myself. I admired the woman I’d become. So why was I struggling with my self-identity? The problem was that I liked myself more than everyone else did. People called that cocky. I felt confident in my abilities.  People called that conceited. I felt that I was destined to be someone and  no one could dissuade me. They called that delusional.  The doubts and the negativity started to get to me so I collapsed in on myself and let the outside world have its way. It was easier.  To be the true and authentic version of myself that meant I had to stop seeking acceptance. I had to live without the admiration and support I thought I needed.  It meant that I had to settle into the idea that no matter what I did and how much I twisted myself into a knot of likeability, some people would always think I was female Kayne—but without the record deal and the rhymes. I had to give up the idea of being everything to everyone and submit to being the raw, unvarnished version of myself and give that to people to swallow straight no chaser.  I would have to offer no apologies, no excuses and just be. The thought was terrifying.

But what I know now is that it’s better to be who you’re intended to be. It’s against nature to conform, give in and give up any piece of yourself to fit into anyone else’s idea of perfection.  Abandoning your true self for the sake of conformity will wear away your shine, strip you of your magic and rob you of your joy.  What may seem easy at first becomes the most time-consuming and labor intensive endeavor of your life. Instead I say, let go and let God. Be yourself. When someone stops you on the street and asks you for your name, respond with a straight face: I AM.

Anyone who gives this a try, promise me you’ll come back and tell me if any lightning strikes.