Never Judge A Book By Its Cover

There I was sitting alone enjoying a wonderful meal.  Head full of ideas and heart on fire for life.  I was enjoying a beautiful moment of peace.  Just what I needed to get my creative juices flowing or so I thought.

Growing up I watched women and observed men. I learned to read body language very well, paying attention to what’s said and unsaid. I realized the different languages that are spoken between males and females.  Females speak verbally while men prefer non verbal cues. Women love through words while men love through touch. See, hear, touch, taste, smell are the 5 senses that make up the human body. In order to find pleasure in life, all 5 senses must be met and in balance.  That is what creates perfect health.


As a student of life I enjoy mastering subjects. Especially health. I value my health and I do my best to take good care of myself. Someone once told me to take care of my body because you only get one.  For days I played that comment in my head. It made me value my body so much more.  I never really thought of it like that.

Without good health what good am I to the world?  Anything that is useless becomes trash and trash is burned away in heaps.  So therefore if I am good I am profitable, but if I am not I am as good as dead.

From that moment forward I decided to become more diligent in the way that I cared for my body.  The way it smells, the way it feels, the way it looks, the way its touched, and to whom I listen to.  Paying special attention to each one so that they are all cared for and nourished properly.

I didn’t realize that in doing so, those around me who had not been enlightened yet would see me as a threat. When I walk into a room I can sense another woman getting tense as she prays that her partner does not glance in my direction.  I see how men stare at my skin wanting to touch it and wanting to wrap themselves around my smooth soft skin.  People are aware of my scent and are often intrigued by the fragrances that I wear.

Because I have taken time to nourish my soul, my body, and my mind I feel free. Free to be who I am. A woman of God, but a woman indeed. I love being a woman. I love my hair, I love my skin, I love my spa days. I just love love love to be soft and sweet. It makes me feel like a beautiful woman.

It is not to discredit the beauty of any other woman either.  I know so many beautiful women that if I were to be jealous or intimidated by them I wouldn’t be able to step foot outside of my house.  I am from Louisiana where the women are some of the most gorgeous PEOPLE I have ever seen.  Louisiana women are special.  I’m not sure if it is because of all of the different nationalities that make up one woman or if it’s in their confidence and freedom to live life to the fullest.  Whatever it is it drives men wild.

Men travel from all over the world to court Louisiana women.  It’s been like this for decades.  We just have a certain je ne sais quois.  It’s not that we are better than anyone it’s just that we make the best with what God has given us.  No matter our race, gender, size, age or background.

Unfortunately, this can bring a lot of unwanted attention.  As I sat eating alone with my Vogue magazine in tow wearing my sundress and flip flops I could feel the heat coming from the kitchen.  Looking around I could tell that once again because of my presence I had been mistaken for a Lady of the Night and not a Lady of the Lord.

It hurt my feelings to be viewed as someone that people devalued.  I felt like an outcast and a woman without rights.  No right to wear what I wanted, no right to go where I wanted, no right to smell how I wanted, no right to look how I wanted, no right to work how I wanted, no right to be free.

How is it that we live in the 21st Century and I still feel as though I have no rights?  Even if I was a lady of the evening it’s my right isn’t it?  It’s my body.  Who is anyone to tell me what I can and can’t do with it.  Sure my morals are in place and keep me from sinning, but that is a choice that GOD allows me to freely make.  Surely if he allows me to choose life or death, then surely I can choose what I do and don’t do with my body.

As I gathered my belongings fighting my tears, I thought to myself would they have thought the same thing about me if I were a man?

Just because I choose to take care of myself, value myself, keep myself up, and enjoy my own company does that make me a prostitute?  Is prostitution not an exchange of sex for money or something of value?  If that’s the case wouldn’t we all be guilty of prostitution in some way? Are we all not exchanging sex for something in return? Be it love? Money? Food? Dates? False Promises? Even Marriage?

Sex is always on the market and has been since the beginning of time. So who are you or anyone else to judge a book by its cover?

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