Why You Are My Sister: Rhonica’s Notebook by Rhonica Wesley

If you know me, or you have even had a small conversation with me you will notice that when speaking to you it is “Sis this, or sis that.” Some might find it strange, but I would rather call you my sister than a B**** or a H*’. I feel that sometimes we don’t even know we are saying it, and that is something we need to work on. Just like the word N*****, B**** is another one of those words that black women personally need to stop using.  When a male calls us a B**** we get mad and hurt, yet you can almost always here us say “B**** you so crazy.” “B**** you coming to the party.” A girl at my high school thought she could say any and everything to me, until one day she said, “B**** come here.” I hemmed her up in a corner and punched her square in the chest. My mother had always taught me that a B**** had four legs, and home girl had totally disrespected me. This is why I refer to you as my sister. Dogs drink from toilets, lay in filth, and eat anything under the sun. If I care for you why would I label you or lightly use such a word.
Let us remain sisters and leave the B****es and H*’s to those who are ignorant.


2 comments on “Why You Are My Sister: Rhonica’s Notebook by Rhonica Wesley

  1. hey L’il Sistah,

    This is why I love you, too!


  2. And that Love is returned to you times ten.

    Thanks for reading “sis” 🙂


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