My Hate-Hate relationship with Self Promotion

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Ok, now that that is out of the way.

A random facebook friend and fellow entrepreneur messaged me about some of the woes of being in business with oneself and invited me to join her in promoting our respective businesses EVERY DAY OF AUGUST. As daunting as it sounds, I’m actually going to try, I mean, I have no shortage of businesses to promote. By the way, check out my other page, oddballcreativesllc.wordpress.com.

Now that the challenge is on, I have to finish a poem I started, do a photoshoot to pair with said poem, and post to my million social media outlets….

Pray for me yall😘

Cute as A Button!

So the sample mugs I ordered for my Kovered in Joy! brand arrived yesterday (I ordered 3 of the 4 styles). I have to say, they’re totally adorable! And I swear, I’m not just saying that because I’m biased, no one is more critical of me than me.

I’m loving how vibrant and playful the colors came out. My plan was to take some great photos of myself holding the mugs for my website :www.koveredinjoy.ecwid.com , and that was a complete and utter FAIL.

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again…. Maybe next week.

My New Normal

So today(wrote this yesterday, today is day 3) was Day 2 of being a stay at home aunt. Since Im trying to have a more healthy and active lifestyle, I decided I’d take the girls (8 mos, 2 yr and 5 year) for a walk a couple times a week after dropping the boys to school. Today we went to the #GreenfieldVillage in #dearborn. Yall I was feeling so proud; got them dressed fed and out the door and to our destination on time…. then struggled in the parking lot for 10 minutes trying to open the dang stroller. I literally tried calling my sister for help😭😂 Some of yall might remember when I used to say that if I didnt have kids and was unmarried by 30 I’d adopt… it’s not exactly the same but it sure as heck is close enough!I remember when I finally started working and was beginning the slow, arduous journey of living my life on my own terms I thought “I don’t think I could ever be a stay at home parent”. Ah, look at God always humbling, teaching and growing me😅 I feel like I now need to read mom blogs cuz I surely dont know what to do to entertain these girls all day (while trying to be a entrepreneur). Help! Im used to doing it a couple times a week but now that it’s all week and I’m kind of officially the stay at home caregiver until summer, I feel like I need a plan🤔Btw, as I walking around today pushing that darn stroller I had a thought, “I’m walking around with 3 blocks of kryptonite… aint no way Im ever going to attract my superman”😂 Yall get ready for my show because it sure will be interesting.. and if nothing else, entertaining 😉

Searching For Future Bae? Or Nah?

I was sitting outside with my girls earlier and contemplating my journey how best to document and share it with yall. Being single, almost 30, single, co-raising seven kids, trying to write a book, having a brand and trying to relaunch my coaching business and not necessarily looking for love but trying desperately to be open to the idea of good men, love, relationships and ultimately marriage. Is it a lost cause? It has to be a lost cause right? SEVEN KIDS after all. S.E.V.E.N. What man would sign up for that? None.

Speaking of signing up, I’m currently vaguely signed up on two Muslim dating/marriage apps. I say vaguely because I only have the free subscription. I’m not paying a cent just to have thot boys make inappropriate comments.. Then again, they do say you get what you pay for so maybe…🤔

My question for you dear readers, is if I truly decided to delve into this Operation Find A Boo, would yall like to come along with me? And if so, should I vlog about it on my youtube channel? Or just blog about it here on my Instagram? Maybe a weekly live? Idk. I’m open to suggestions.

As mentioned earlier, Im not necessarily hunting for Mr. Right but one thing I do know for sure is that despite all I have seen, I know I dont want to be single forever. Sue me. I dont know about you but I’d kind of like to not die having never been kissed. How utterly tragic. I suppose I could hatch a plan to pretend I’m a teenager and go back to high school in the hopes of finding someone inappropriately younger than me only to fall madly in love with me teacher. After all, people always say I look young for my age. The only tiny hiccup that would prevent me from being Drew Barrymore is the fact that I’m muslim and don’t allow myself to be in situations where makeout sessions are a remote possibility.

Yes. I know you’re wondering now and the answer is yes: I am a virgin. Shocker. So in 10 years, I’ll be the 40 Year Old Virgin.

Sooooooo… I need a plan. Do I sign up for a few more websites? Pay the couple dollars a month? Swipe right on everyone? (Please dont make me do that). Help a sista out.

All the best

Khadeejah

Switching Gears.. and Switching Back

Hello Dear Readers!

I know, I know, it’s been a while since my last post, and if you follow me on Instagram you already know what happened but for those who don’t: I WAS IN A FASHION SHOW. And I wasn’t just modelling for someone, no sirree, I actually showcased MY BRAND, Strange Ones Nation in an actual fashion show here in Michigan. Totally epic and insane right!? The whole shebang went down earlier this month, March 9th to be exact.

My sisters and I after fixing our make up and waiting for the show to start.

Early February I was asked by the host of the fashion show if I’d like to showcase and after momentarily freaking out, letting the self doubt, insecurity and feelings of inadequacy wash over over me, I said yes. I would have been a complete fool to say no. I say it all the time, if you open yourself up to the universe, the universe will open itself to you. Anyhoo, as a result of the showcase, I had to halt everything. I stopped typing my book, stopped “trying to better my health”, I barely posted on social media.

My models before the show

The whole experience was INCREDIBLE! I can still hardly believe it happened. I learned so much about myself, about the behind the scenes of big events, production, branding, networking and then some. The most excruciating part of the whole process was that fact that as someone behind the scenes, directing and styling, I couldn’t be in the audience taking photos of my models during there runway walks. Thankfully, my mother did take a video on her not so up to day cell phone (which I will post the link to below) and the host of the show filmed it, I just don’t have a copy yet.

My models and I

Now that everything is sufficiently settled, I can get back to life. But I have to tell you, once you start saying yes to life, be careful, because once you start riding those highs of stepping outside of your comfort zone, you may never be able to live a normal life again.

Me on the red carpet
My mom’s vid

https://www.facebook.com/FeisTea.Kat/

Follow the link to my Facebook Page for the better vid.

Has it Really Been a Year? – Welcome to FeisTea Land ♡

2018?? Hello?! Like seriously, where the heck did you go!?

Hey Yall! How was your year?? Mine was… packed… I’m legitimately confused about how much managed to happen in one year. I shall fill you in on it all in due time. Bear with me, I have A LOT going on.

Until next time, Happy 2019!

Stay feisty. ;*

– Khadeejah

2018, I’m Coming For You

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Hello Sweeties! It’s been ages! I don’t think I’ve posted anything since last summer. It’s safe to say, I’ve become quite the ghost on the social media scene but I’m slowly sliding back out of the woodwork and becoming an active participant in my own life. Scratch that, I’m becoming a leader in my own life.

The first week of the year was a bust but I’ve committed myself to getting my act together, pushing my fears aside and doing the dang thing. I’ve spent the last week sketching and designing, trying to develop a brand identity for myself. Three years studying Graphic Design is paying off. I was up till after midnight last night tweaking designing and finally got something I’m satisfied with; don’t worry, I know I’m being insanely vague but yall will see soon Insha allah (God willing).

My plan was to do some more designing all day today, unfortunately, that wasn’t possible so instead, I got dressed and vlogged a little shopping to buy some filming and organizational equipment on a budget. I went to Dollar Tree and Burlington. Bought a desk calendar, some pens and pencils, a not pad and a vent and window phone mount for my car. The vent mount is going back because the window mount is a far better option. I need the mount because I’ll likely(sadly) be filming a lot from my car because currently it’s the only private place I have. I know it’s not ideal but if I were to wait until I am able to get my own place again, it would be ages until I could anything started and the time is now. No more excuses.

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Anyway, back to my shopping trip, I wanted to buy another selfie-stick but there was this guy standing next to them the ENTIRE time I was in Dollar Tree. I circled back a few timed hoping he had moved. He didn’t. Now, now, I’m not scared of any man, buut, when I was near him the first time getting my vent mount, he said “I like your make-up” and that was it for me. Compliments in general make me uncomfortable, compliments from guys gross me out. I don’t like imagining random guys find me attractive. I know, I’m weird.

I never got to finish filming my day because my phone ever so politely informed me that it was “dangerously low on space’. Son of a biscuit. Oh well. Next thing I need to invest in is a memory card…. and probably a camcorder instead of using my phone for everything. However, the last thing I need is more stuff. My car is already full enough.. Gosh I need to get my own place again. Pray for me ya’ll.

One last thing! If you haven’t already, check out my spoken word post on youtube!

Is My Black Really Beautiful

Just putting it out there, Asian men, #indian, #Pakistani and #Bengali men make me feel so ugly because I’m a #blackwoman. And I’m talking, next level, Smeagol, the Gollum from Lord of The Rings, type ugly. They make me feel like I am less than, beneath them; like I’m a mangy stray dog they found in the woods that they play with, have a great time, become great friends with but at the end of the day, leave in the woods because dogs aren’t allowed in the house.

Perhaps this may sound harsh, but it’s not meant to be harsh or offensive and I’m not backbitting simply by stating how I FEEL. And no one can deny, or bring up a defense to how I, or anyone else feels about something, so please, don’t try.

I’ve seen some of my fellow #BMW (black muslim women) speak out on this and have seen them verbally attacked and torn apart for voicing their experiences and feelings. You cannot invalidate someone’s truth just because it makes you uncomfortable.

And one of my truths is, as stated above, is that Asian men make me feel #ugly. They make my skin, hair, features, background, ancestors all feel ugly and unacceptable. And before you ask why I singled out Asian men, it’s because that’s where my experience lies. In my very limited experience with, say, #Arab men, they either deny my existence all together or I’m the dog they adore and want to take home but their mamas are allergic.

But here’s the thing, you dont need my experience, ask just about any BMW of a certain age. They nearly all have a story to tell. Let’s face it, black people, black women have been seen as the lowest of low globally since, well, practically forever. And if you don’t believe that, educate yourself.

And I’m not the kind of person who ever cared about or focused on #race, but when you’re constantly rejected because of it, your perspective starts to shift.

You have to start actively trying to accept and love yourself not just as a woman, but as a black woman. Honestly, growing up I never cared one way or the other about my race, it was just part of who I was, like being female or short. I look very, what one would call “ethnically black” and never did I see it as a problem. But as I got older and more exposed to the world and saw and experienced how much negativity is associated to that one aspect of me. I started to understand why women would repeat #MyBlackIsBeautiful, creating a positive association with our race and features to combat the hate we get from all sides. And when I say all sides, I mean all sides. Many of our own men find us distasteful and, wait for it, some of our very own black women think we should try to be “less black”, whatever the heck that means. 😐

In #Islam, racism, colorism, culturalism are all explicitly forbidden, but I suppose people will be people, Muslim or not😕. And for those with blinders on and are in denial that racism is alive and kicking within the Muslim community, it’s story time!

I’ve been on a Muslim marriage website for a couple years now, not and active or paying member but I wanted to get an idea of what’s out there. Well, let me just tell you, those websites, no matter how much they claim they are for practising Muslims are not really made for black #muslimahs. Now my profile clearly states that I’m black. But it’s as if guys are like “she sounds incredible.. but… dang, she why gotta be black though.. maybe she doesn’t look black 🤔 *requests photo*”. 99% Of the asian guys disappear as soon as they see me. (About 85% of the Arab guys disappear). Just the other day a guy messaged me, we coincidentally went to the same university. He was all gungho about getting to know me, said he uploaded some photos and hoped we could do a photo exchange. My… slightly irritated and possibly uncalled for response, “I’m so done with all the racism on this website. I’m a black woman, as my profile clearly states. If that’s a problem for you, stop right now.” He stopped. Oh I have sooo many other stories. A little tip, if a guy’s profile says he’s open to all ethnicities…. don’t believe it.. or maybe it’s not because I’m black at all, maybe I’m just #fugly😂💁

Untie the knot in my tongue, so they may understand my speech..

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately, I mean, a whole lot; thinking about who I am and how I got to be this way. I think of my childhood, my upbringing. My parents. I’m a pretty open person except when it comes to my parents, mostly because, despite everything, I don’t want to disrespect them. For years I’ve played with the idea of writing a memoir, but it wouldn’t be real, it wouldn’t be accurate and raw, unless I spoke my whole truth. And that included opening up about my parents. So I always decided against it. My mother would never forgive me if people knew of the skeletons in our family closet; that the picture wasn’t/isn’t quite as pretty as it seems.

Blogging here and there about certain things seems safe enough.

Today I’m going to talk about yet another thing I don’t like discuss. My difficulty with speaking. Let me must tell you, having people constantly saying, “huh?” “What?” “I don’t understand you.” is not fun. It’s pretty awful actually. When I was really young, I didnt really notice it, spent pretty much the entire first twelve years of my life only around my immediate family members. And as a result, I didn’t much have a sense of self, no real sense of autonomy. I wasn’t much aware of myself as an individual, which included the way I looked and the way I spoke. At least not when around my siblings, who were almost exclusively to whome I spoke. And around everyone else, I was shy, painfully shy.

I wish I’d gotten a speech therapist as a child. But I guess mother saying, “Quit mubbling!” Was all the therapy she thought I needed.

Oh, let me back up for a second for those who don’t actually know my life! I was homeschooled till I was 12. When I was 12, my family moved to Trinidad  (another story for another day) and thats when everything changed. That’s when I started gaining self awareness, and that’s when I noticed I had a problem. At first I thought my shyness and social anxiety played a part. Making it impossibly difficult to get words out. But when I did get them out, it was oftentimes gibberish, or so slurred it was unintelligible. And when classmates and teachers would repeatedly not understand me, I told myself that it was my American accent that they couldn’t understand. But the thing is, I couldn’t understand what was  coming out of my mouth either. I knew what I intended to say, but wouldn’t come out right. There is a term so lovingly referred to as marble mouth, as in, sounding as if you’re speaking with a mouth full of marbles. That’s me!

Whenever I try to slow down and speak more clearly, I stutter. When I record myself on snapchat or instagram, sometimes I have to record myself at least three times until I’m understandable. I know there are a lot of people out there who would say it’s not that bad or that i just talk too fast. But for me, it is that bad. It makes be feel stupid, make me feel like a moron. It’s ironic isn’t it, that I have so much to say but faulter in my speech. . .