Yes, I’m A Black Woman. No, I’m Not Your Free Activist!

“Why can’t I just write for the love of it? Why do people keep trying to attach their agendas to my shit?”

“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“You seem to be recognizing your privilege without doing much about it.”

Two ladies on this platform wrote me these words at separate times before they were blocked from having access to me permanently. Because who the fuck are they talking to like that? I’ve written many articles about women expecting other women to martyr themselves for free under the guise of sisterhood. Since men don’t care about your problems I must run, hop, skip, and jump to your rescue, huh? I already told y’all I’m not into that shit!

First of all, I don’t have any honey to shell out and I don’t want flies. I want money! You don’t work for free? Well, neither do I!

As for the other young lady’s comment, I am recognizing my privilege as a slim woman because I am paid to do so. Also, what exactly is “doing much,” and what exactly am I being paid to perform this labor that satisfies you? Last time I checked I am not the personal slave of the body positivity movement.