So I disappeared for a time as I went on a journey to find myself.  I, recently, separated from my ex-husband who I was still dating. Long story.  Ok, I have time, I’ll tell it.  We separated then got a divorce then reconciled after our divorce was final. Then broke up again.

I have only a few words to say about that whole ordeal…

I’m glad to be free.

Free to be me. Free to think. Free to fly!  My ex-husband wasn’t horrible but we weren’t on the same wavelength. He is conscious too, I guess you would say. Probably before I became conscious. But we still don’t think and act the same. And when that is occurring for someone who is so creative and a person who takes action, it can be exhausting…like you’re carrying dead weight along with you on your journey.  I need to be able to SOAR!

I have always been a girl then later a woman who thought about things on a deeper level. Earlier this year, around June 2014, I found many African-American groups on FB that I didn’t know existed. I quickly joined about 20 groups and delved into a whole new World that I had always been looking for…before I knew I was looking for it.

Let me start at the beginning.  Earlier this year, I decided I needed to find more like-minded people. People who thought like me. I had watched Hidden Colors and was starting to really awaken.

As I began to awaken, I was increasingly becoming frustrated with the lack of real knowledge on my Facebook NewsFeed. I felt like I was wasting my time on a medium that didn’t offer much for me.

Then, one day, I stumbled upon the groups. I remember being on the phone with my sister and she was asked, “You didn’t know about this?”

Yes and no.

The last time I had ventured into FB Groups, I was separated from my ex. I created a group to talk about relationships, children, etc. That was about 3 years ago. I was in the groups for a few months then slowly moved away from them as they begin to no longer serve their purpose for me. I still have that group and kept it open for people who continued to enjoy the group. One day, I would like to close it though and move on from that Chapter in my life.

Out of sight, out of mind and I forgot about FB Groups.

Now, 3 years later, I stumbled across the groups again. I knew about FB Groups but I never saw them as anything meaningful. I always thought they would be a waste of my time. But, suddenly, I was all-seeing and realizing that the groups I was looking at were meaningful and were connecting the people I had been looking for.

I was home.

I wasn’t in the groups long before I knew I would be creating my own group.  Maybe a few days later, Black Emancipation Coalition was born.

It all started from a post.

Someone posted this post that said they wanted to be a part of an African organization that really stood for something and really helped the African people.

Everyone took off from there in the comments with their ideas and what they wanted and how it could be accomplished. I was, also, in those comments.

The comments went on and on but when it was time to take action.  Silence.

I could feel the energy of my People and I REFUSED to sit there and let our dreams die in that post.

After asking who was going to get the organization started and hearing no response, I created my second FB Group…Black Emancipation Coalition, also known as, BEC.

The experience was rough in the beginning…I might go into that more later. But as things settled down, I began to continue my education of Consciousness, African History and so on.

So this is the beginning of my journey. I know where I am headed and where I need to go. I just hope I see you all there with me.

Let’s go!


Disturbed (In Dreams)

Love and fairy tales,
Christmas and dreams,
Where in life, we’re nothing,
And nothing’s what it seems,
We pretend we’re living,
When, in reality, we’re dead,
We pretend we’re feeling,
But no tears we ever shed,

Close your eyes,
And see black,
No past, no present, no future,
Only darkness,
No light, no pictures, no sound,
Inevitably woven sutures,

We’re alive like animals in the night,
Through this plight,
We consider a “life”,
In truth, the funeral of meaningful experiences,
Well doomed forever in eternity,
Where heads have laid to rest.

By: Samantha Dawson


“I trust people until they give me a reason not to.”. This is my philosophy on trust. I believe people believe in you more when you come at them, giving them the benefit of the doubt.

My girl friend told me not to. She said I need to stop that. Stop trusting people, she said. That’s a foreign concept to me. I am, naturally, a trusting person. I always have been. I believe that’s why people have always liked me. My trusting them is a way of saying, “I believe in you. I know you’re a good person and you can start with a fresh slate with me”.

However, once people cross that line with me and break my trust, I’m done. I do give people several chances to make mistakes because we’re all human. But, everyone “has a limit” and when I reach mine, I know that I can’t deal with that person anymore. He or she no longer has my trust and depending on the situation, he/she might be able to regain my trust back.

But, I can never be that person who walks around with my guard up 24/7. I’m a city girl so I know which situations to stay away from and I’m far from naive. But, I’m pretty happy for the most part and chill. And I, genuinely, like people. My friends have always told me that I am a “people person” and I guess I am. I like to have fun with the best of them but I can, also, sympathize with others and be there for them. I like getting to know people, opening up to them and having them feel safe enough to open up to me. I like learning about people. Their different ideas and cultures, their different personalities and why do they do the things that they do. I believe we grow and mature more with more knowledge and experiences. I’m always learning and gaining new experiences. I can’t do that if I simply talk to the same people and have my guard up around everyone else.

Life is not worth living if I can’t open up my heart and trust other human beings. We are all on this Earth struggling to make it and if it’s ever my time to go then that is God’s will.

I love thy neighbor and I will continue to live in love and walk in the light. May God continue to watch over me and protect me because He knows my heart.

Until next time….

❤ Sammii.

First Leg and Brazilian Wax

I got my my first leg and Brazilian wax today and it wasn’t too bad. The legs hurt some and I only got the lower half. Getting the hair off my vagina was SO painful. The woman who did my wax is named Tina at Skin and Wax Spa of Springfield, VA and she was nice. She wasn’t very warm. She seems a little standoffish and preoccupied with her thoughts. And maybe it was just me but she seemed uncomfortable around me which made me uncomfortable. I was already scared of what was going to happen to me. I didn’t need the wax lady to be acting weird too. Nevertheless, she did a phenomenal job. :-). She said I had a great texture of hair which should yield wonderful results so we’ll see. I love the way it looks. I’ll be going back to her again for another wax and, maybe, check out some of her other services.

What black women REALLY think about interracial dating

First, let me say, this is a discussion that I am SO SICK of that I felt it was time for me to address it, as a Black Woman.  I get tired of reading articles that I don’t believe quite describe my feelings when it comes to interracial dating.  I’m tired of being misrepresented.  I know black women who are being described in those “angry black women” articles but I’m not one of them.

Most of you know that I grew up in VA because of my About Sammi section.  Let me fill you in on life in northern VA.  Life in Virginia was/is a blast!  I had great friends and went on to become popular through middle and high school.  There was a lot to do.  My family and I were always doing super fun things like going to Luray Caverns, VA beach, playing frisbee in DC, riding huge rollercoasters at Kings Dominion.  As a young black girl, I could literally want for nothing.  My parents were divorced but they loved my siblings and I so much that life was always good.  I was in gymnastics, a cheerleader and ran track.  I was always athletic and had an active social life.  I went to the best parties and my mom let me drive her car.  She worked nights so her car was practically mine.  I lived a pretty coveted life.  I was never as skinny as the other females and that was a slight issue for me but I knew I had a great body because boys/men were always trying to talk to me. 

Nevertheless, dating in VA was interesting.  I grew up in Manassas then we moved to Manassas City and the black boys/men mostly dated white girls/women in Manassas City.  Manassas City was more of the bougie (stuck-up) side of town.  My mother moved over there to give us a “better” quality of life but I liked my life just fine where I was in Manassas.  My mom felt Manassas was too “ghetto” after she saw a drug bust go down across the street from where we lived.  She couldn’t move out of Manassas fast enough after that and now, seeing her vision through the eyes of being a mother myself, I can completely understand her perspective at that time.

The kids in Manassas City were more mature, more sexually active and just all-around different.  I used to go to parties down the street from my house where everyone was having sex and my mom had no clue.  The girl’s house that I would visit did not have any parents present.  I’ll call her “that girl” for the sake of preserving her reputation.  “That girl” was raised by a single mother and her mom would always go out of town to be with her boyfriend.  I think I might have met her mother maybe once.  I remember the first time I went to “that girl’s” house, there were people everywhere.  Children of all races.  I hope they were all kids but some of them did look old enough to be men.  Once again, another story for another day. 

I didn’t even know who half the people were because I had just moved to Manassas City.  I knew some of the faces but I didn’t know the guys personally.  This party basically consisted of the “cool, popular” crowd and I don’t think I fit in at all but for some reason everyone always loves me.  That’s another post on that subject….lol. 

As I entered middle school, I learned very quickly that I would not be able to find a boyfriend in my school in Manassas City.  All the black boys dated white girls and I only dated black boys and that math just didn’t add up.  If anything, the math (and way of thinking) cancelled black females out.  I never considered dating outside of my race.  I was a military brat growing up, primarily, in the 80s and 90s in northern Virginia and I wasn’t raised to dislike any race but interracial dating was just something I wasn’t used to.  I saw white boys who were cute but I thought they would reject me if I tried to suggest us going on a date, so I never asked.

I typically dated black guys from Manassas (the other side of the tracks), Alexandria, Woodbridge, DC…pretty much more-predominantly black areas where black males preferred dating black females.  But it was crazy to grow up somewhere knowing that none of the black males wanted to date me.

Due to the fact that I was angry and annoyed that black males did not want to date me, I started to experiment with different races right before I left high school.  I went on a date with a Filipino, a hispanic male and a Greek guy.  They were all pretty nice and cute but I felt no real connection or like we had much in common so those relationships were short-lived.  I thought I would never be able to find a man outside of my race who would “get me” so I went back to dating black men exclusively.

I went into the Army and began to date more black men but I started to date more of what I considered “exotic” men like Jamaicans and Africans too.  I guess you would call them non-American and that was exciting for me.  I fell in love with their accents and their different cultures.  I loved their dominance and passion that Black American men seemed to lack.  I also feel that the way black boys treated me growing up caused me to almost disassociate myself from them as I grew into a woman. 


I am telling you my whole dating history because I want you to understand my logic and my way of thinking, my pain and why some women are hurt when they see black men with white women or women of another race.  I used to resent white women when I saw them with black men, it brought back feelings of how the black boys I grew up with treated me like I wasn’t good enough to date.  They made it clear that they wouldn’t mind sleeping with me but we would never be in a relationship.  The way black boys treated me as I grew up made me feel like I was not attractive and that white women (and women of other races) were more desirable than me.  I grew up thinking that wome of other races must be more attractive than me because males from my own race didn’t want me.  I don’t recall seeing males of other races dating outside of their race so I figured it just meant black females were the less desirable race. 

However, as I got older, I learned that all men are pretty much the same.  Men who want someone who is easy, goes after females who are easy.  Men who want relationships will take you more seriously, no matter what the race. 

Another revelation that I remember from childhood are the black boys who wouldn’t date me because they claimed white girls were willing to do things or put up with things that I wasn’t willing to put up with.   This was the case when we were children and where I grew up.  I can’t speak for other situations or locations in the world.  And if you’re wondering where did I get this information…black boys told me that information so it is not perception.  They said black girls had too much attitude and weren’t willing to experiment as much sexually.  Black girls were basically seen as prudes.  Thanks, Mom and Dad…lol.  No, I’m kidding.  But my family raised me not to be loose so I just wasn’t and I wasn’t going to change to get a boy to date me.  No thanks.  

I always prided myself on not caring what people thought of me and I vowed never to change who I was for a man.  I am a strong believer in compromise but completely turning into someone else so a man will be with you is ludicruos and makes it very clear that you don’t love yourself.  I had my issues as most people do but my parents taught me to love and respect myself and that’s something I always carried with me.

As I got older and began to date outside of my race, I learned that people date whomever they are attracted to, have sexual chemistry with and who they feel most connected to.  I begin to become more attracted to men as men and not as black, white, Filipino, etc.  One day, as I became more of a woman, I started to simply see a man as a man.  And that was the first day my eyes (and mind) really opened.

So now when I see black men with white women, I smile at them because they look happy and I am happy for them.  I love to see people in love.  There is so much hatred in the world.  It’s nice when I see genuine love and am in the presence of true love.  

I am now in love and he just happens to be a black American.  I didn’t seek him out because of his race or nationality.  We fell in love and I became pregnant with our youngest son and we’re happy and he “gets me”.  And he loves my son that I had before I met him like his own son.  If my boyfriend was white, Asian or any other race then that would have been OK too.  I guess I needed to understand what black males saw in other races to truly understand how an interracial couple could be together or why they would want to be together.  I always wondered how interracial couples dealt with racism.  Would other races ever truly be able to support black Americans and the history/baggage that comes with us?  I have seen beautiful interracial couples that work so I guess love does conquer all and every race comes with its own baggage.  The most important aspect is the love, respect and support and none of those see a color.

I used to be one of those angry black women when I was younger and uneducated about the subject of love.  Now I see clearly and I’m OK with it.  It’s funny though because now the black men I see in the Whole Foods or walking down the street with their white girlfriends/fiances/wives seem to be more uncomfortable when they see me.  Why is that?  Again.  Another topic for another day.

I think next time I see that couple, I will smile at them to let them know that there is a black woman out there who understands and doesn’t care who the black man chose to date.  The beauty of being an American is that everyone has a choice. 


Peace! 😀

Hello world!

Hello World!!! Welcome to Life with Sammii!!!! I am uber excited to be here with you, sharing my journey. I started my blog because I have things to say, I am inspired and I want to have a voice. Sit back, relax, people, on Sammii’s couch. We’re going to discuss kids, relationships, racism, my natural hair journey….ALL of life’s incidences as seen through the eyes of a Modern black woman in America. And NO topic is sacred. I hope you enjoy!!! I love hearing from everyone so feel free to post what’s on your mind. I wouldn’t put my voice out there if I didn’t want to get you all thinking and talking.

Peace! 🙂