Dear Sorority Girl…

Dear Sorority Girl,

a pink gift boxLet me first apologize for using the word girl, I’m fully aware that if you’re reading this you’re a grown woman. I just like the ring to it much more than I like the words “Sorority Woman.” Today is the Founders Day for the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority and Sunday was the Founders Day for Deltas and over the course of these two days I’ve realized something.

The characteristics I see in women that are apart of Sorority’s are the characteristics I want in the woman I’ll marry one day. I’ve never been a modest man, I love beautiful words and beautiful women and women that have a confidence that flows naturally thru their pretty skin. Women that are smart and ambitious and want to better not only themselves but their community. That’s what I see when I see a woman that wears those colors so proudly.

Did you know… In my first novel there’s a dedication to a member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority. Along with my grandparents, Ashley, family and readers I literally name her. This woman I’ve never dated or kissed or slept with because her impact on my life was that profound. She’s maybe the prettiest woman I’ve ever known but is as modest as can be. She’s super sexy and knows it but her style doesn’t require her to be inappropriate. She reads and smiles and drinks but is a lady at all times and her faith in God is unquestioned. I was in love with that woman and I’d like to think that being an AKA was a part of the foundation to her greatness.

I took a Delta to lunch on Sunday so hopefully I can take an AKA to dinner today.

Sincerely Yours,

Demez F. White

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s