Tag Archives: Blog

…Of Nice and Good Men

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A good man is the same as a finicky cat that comes to drink of the warm bowl of milk you’ve gingerly placed outside of your front door to feed it. You may watch the cat reap the benefits of the treat– just for God’s sake don’t make any sudden moves or you may scare it away forever!

Where Do Nice Guys Finish?
…on your face like every other man, so let’s hop down from that pedestal, guys. I see and hear the cry of “nice, non-bad boys” and I’m not overly impressed. Are you really missing out on dating opportunities with women because you are too kind and wholesome and good? Maybe you are also a coward that never makes the first move, are emotionally unavailable, too busy or lazy to make room for a relationship in your life, OR (and this is my favorite) you stand on the greatness of your master’s degree, immaculate apartment and nice car completely forgetting that you have to offer a woman some personality. You are not losing in life; especially in this day and age when women are cooking meals, raising the babies AND bringing other women home for men to get their threesome fix so they WON’T BE ABANDONED OR CHEATED ON.

Nice guys, I have more questions! Are you really losing with good women, or are we talking about being curved by the big booty chick with a million dudes in her DMs anyway? Also, who hurt you? Are you sure you got over Romantica who cheated on you in ninth grade and broke your heart? Are you sure you’re giving off “nice guy” vibes or are you repping 2015, the age of inconsistent communication, Netflix and chill and total disregard for the emotional well being of anyone but yourself? I don’t know the answers, these are literally my questions.

Everyone is REPLACEABLE
And, seriously, on the other side of it we women have to chill with this whole concept of driving away and/or scaring off “good men”. You settle down with your “nice/good” man and you’re afraid to rock the boat for fear he won’t stay and argue, but will leave you for something better. If a man is down for you, he shouldn’t be packing his bags every time you want to approach the subject of why a nigga gotta always eat the last of your Pringles without saving you some. Relationships are hard, there’s going to be some friction and disagreement no matter how good and kind the person you are with.

Personally, dealing with a strong, chivalrous, considerate and goal-oriented man after dating a slew of third string assholes IS an entirely different ballgame. However, I push myself to be vocal about the things that bother me in a rational way that leads to productive conversation. True, not a lot of men want to argue all the time (at least I try to stay away from men who equate arguing with passion) but a disagreement or two shouldn’t have you shaking in your red bottoms that he’s going to leave you. No, you can’t be crazy (slashing only three car tires because if you slash all four his insurance will cover the costs) or rude, or disrespectful but if something in the relationship bothers you, you also can’t be afraid to stand up to your good man. He is not the same as the man who ghosted you for days then copped an attitude when you voiced your complaints. If he is for real a good man he will LISTEN to the things that bother you and talk it out! Welcome to adulting…

The thing about these nice/good guys is that they are treated by the world around us like a novelty when the reality of it is; they are getting credit for shit they are supposed to do! Being faithful, educated and independent should align with the personal goals of the nice guy, not just marketed as a qualitative selling point to get and keep bitches. “Do you know how many women would love to have a man like me?” This is the battle cry of self-proclaimed nice guys that really ain’t shit. Ok, go find these women that will appreciate you so much more–fast forward  two months later and you’ll be posting lonely nigga quotes and Bae applications on your Facebook.

I have been hurt by enough nice guys to know not to fall for this foolishness. Yes, you may draw her bath water and hang out with her mom but it doesn’t make you incapable of hurting a woman…you ARE human. Treating your woman kindly does not elevate you to superhero status. Furthermore, as far as your social media posts reading like the book of Lamentations; don’t nobody feel sorry for your ass! For mature women who aren’t into all the games it’s never a matter of the bad boy vs. good guy. Maybe we’ve gotten our hearts broken by a disrespectful man in the past but it doesn’t mean that is a preference. Using the nice guys finish last, woe is me expressions is not only unimpressive but unfounded. Good men, great men, nice men who show consistency loyalty and personality are winning all across the board. Just look around you….

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Let’s Talk About Porn, Baby! (Part 2)

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Everyone loves it–but most are not bold enough to make this move

To me, porn is Like Raymond…everybody loves it—and I mean EVERYBODY. (Sidenote: the boyfriend tells me that I generalize too much and shouldn’t say things like “everyone” or “women” or “black women” because I can’t possibly speak for everyone in those groups. BUT this is my blog I’ll generalize if I want to!) Anyway, I was super naïve when I first starting dating in my late teens and I did not realize that every guy in the history of guydom watches porn. My main gripe against porn at that phase in my life was the immorality of it all. Clearly God sees you watching other human beings bump uglies—how can you justify this when you get to the pearly gates of heaven? My imagination envisioned a movie projection reel of all of your unforgiven sins playing for everyone to see. I could only imagine how uncomfortable it would get when you reach those scenes of you and your left hand going to town while you make O faces in front of your cell phone screen. Awwwwkwaaarrd…

 HD

The first time I ever had to come face to face with pornography and its use is when I came to the realization that a guy I was dating owned a sex tape video. My response was, “Ew, get rid of it!” So he did, and I really thought that was that. I didn’t know that, thanks to the lovely invention of the smart phone, kinky sex stuff was only a Google search away—along with phone sex lines and just nasty women in general that eagerly send photos and videos of themselves doing freaky things for the low low price of nothing.

Without going into too much detail—things ended with that guy.  My disdain for his frequent viewing of porn definitely didn’t help us to grow any closer—but once he reached the stage of actually reaching out to real live women to supplement his sexual needs I needed to be done. If I view porn as a slap in the face, then of course actual cheating is a relationship kill shot to the back of the head. Because of this initial experience dealing with a man so heavily involved in it,  I still have trouble believing that pornography is anything other than a gateway drug to a loss of self control that could end up breaking your significant other’s heart.

My Truth About Porn

If you haven’t watched pornography ever in your life, you are either a 12 year old Amish person OR you live under a rock. Well, after my rock was lifted from me I emerged from underneath immediately blinded by the world and it’s blatant sexual immorality.  This is the part where I declare that it was a difficult time in my life yet I nobly rose above it all and continued to live life as a goodie two shoes church girl. Nope!

I became casually involved with a man who practiced watching porn like some sports fanatics must watch the entire season of basketball. It was EVERYWHERE! His phone, computer, house, car—every.freakin.where. By this time, it had been whispered in my ear enough that apparently I am extremely uptight and I needed to get over this natural habit that all men engaged in. To rid myself of the bad taste in my mouth and try to be a little less judgmental I decided to do some research to discover what the fuss was all about. After about 5 short videos of what looked like men using their penises to horribly stab women to death, I was left unimpressed.  But I didn’t stop watching…

SomethingforeveryoneI needed to know the secret—why is porn so interesting to people? Why did it consume so much time of the man I was currently dating? I didn’t get it! I would turn on the videos and wrinkle my brow trying to figure it the fuck out like it was the theory of relativity! It started out as curiosity—which quickly turned into masochism. I eventually drilled down into what I was watching and discovered that there are apparently levels to this shit. Threesomes, milfs, grandmothers, black men, transgender, lesbian, midgets…! Whoever you are and whatever you like to get into there is a specific type of porn for you, my friend. And let’s not get started on when I discovered that there is pornography specifically for women—THAT was my shit. Nothing more stress relieving than finally finding your own porn niche—then laying awake at night hating yourself and realizing you’ve become just like the men you spent so much time judging and hating for the very same habit. It was the very same addiction, even if it was on a significantly smaller scale.

My involvement with the porn-obsessed guy came to its natural demise for a myriad of reasons. Looking back on our sexual relationship, I realized that I was very much being objectified almost 90% of the time. At a certain point he was into filming us together which I thought was a better alternative to him enjoying strangers having sex UNTIL I realized that he kept an archive of videos of all the women he’d been with. Boy was my face red! I mean, I joke now because experiences like that and similar have toughened me and I know better than to succumb to that kind of bullshit. However, the experiences with these two men have had lasting effects on me. I will lay with you and listen to your most secret fantasies and desires, but I will not watch porn with you or involve myself in any way. I just can’t.

My Truth As A Woman

Feminism

Feminism is hard

I read an article the other day, that cheerfully informed me that more women in their 20s and 30s are starting to watch porn. Yay feminism—this is so awesome! Oh wait, no not really. I take such issue with modern day feminism sometimes because, in my opinion, it puts way too much focus on sexuality. Feminism is the cool girls table while some of us are still nibbling pizza at the corner table in our ratty, out of fashion jeans and oversized t-shirts.  If you prance around in a midriff shirt, take control of your own pleasure and run a marathon without a tampon you are somehow doing feminism right. However, I see feminism as the freedom to choose who you want to be as a woman and not be judged or treated unfairly because of it. I prefer not to breastfeed in public, I do wear provocative clothing, I don’t want anyone to ever know when I’m on my period EVER… I don’t want to invite pornography into my romantic relationships. Those are my choices.

 I was sitting in the apartment of a man I used to date when he politely asked if I had opened the weblink he sent me. This particular man was a genuinely good guy, so gentle with me and seemingly open and honest. The first time he text me a link to some “check this out” porn I was a little thrown off guard but I wasn’t completely upset about it. I watched the link because I was curious and I was trying to figure out what my action item was supposed to be. (Should I take notes? Can I even angle my head that way? Is that possible to do without throwing up?) In spite of how I feel about porn itself, I try very hard not to be judgmental about sexual fantasies of my significant other (unless it’s super weird stuff or threesomes—ain’t no way I’m going to just let you invite another bitch up in what we have.  I don’t even know her, and how greedy are you for wanting more than one woman when you can barely handle—ok sorry, tangent!)

I sat before him in the chair of his living room and finally I opened the link. I watched the video of this ratchet ass woman (with a terrible weave) performing sexual acts that I had JUST PERFORMED ON THIS NEGRO A FEW MOMENTS AGO! It wasn’t a knock down drag out fight that ensued—rather I just imploded.  Tears rolled down my face and I just didn’t want to see anymore. I felt stupid and completely embarrassed and confused. If I am physically providing for you, swinging off ceiling fans and meeting your needs within the privacy of our relationship why do you need a supplement? I take pride in at least attempting to be a lady in streets and a hoe in the sheets—then you send me a pornography link of a nasty ass woman who is just a hoe in sheets, streets and meet and greets?

I don’t ever want to feel as if I am censoring my partner and their sexual preferences/fantasies—however, I always have to be clear about just how uncomfortable certain things make me. When it comes to pornography: I just don’t get it! Because of my past dealings with men who were heavily involved in pornography to the point of addiction I just don’t want anything to do with it. Period. As Thick Biggems (tee hee) mentioned in the Part 1 interview—if you are having sex with someone you should be able to have open conversations about your sexual activities and your dos and don’ts. Sex is everywhere and it seems to me that there is an abundance of pressure on women to be sexy; invite your friends into your sexual exploits, cook a great meal, suck a great cock etc. etc.  When I finally got around to exploring my sexuality (in mid-to late 20s—which is fairly late) it was difficult for me to sort through all of these outside messages to discover who I was in the midst of it. The discovery is well worth the effort. The obvious life lesson here is: just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean that you have to or even that you have to take part in it. My stance on pornography may seem immature to some—but it is just that MY stance.

GF

Well, at least I won’t be saying this!

Whatever anyone chooses to consent to in the bedroom is absolutely their business. I think of sex as fun, exciting, experimental—all of that—but I still don’t quite understand the role of pornography in all of it. Perhaps for those who are single and not seeing any action, or couples that enjoy watching it together, but as far as young men with steady (even multiple) sexual partners I don’t understand the appeal. It’s not for me to understand—and that’s ok. Fellas, if your girl is not into it she is not lame or uptight–it’s just not her preference. Before the luxury of watching other people having sex, I’m sure the caveman thought of several ways to keep things spicy in the bedroom. I don’t know, maybe even circle back around to missionary–I don’t think anyone does that anymore! 😜

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The Price of Slapping A Bitch

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W Brady

My aunt slapped a bitch once, and because of it she will forever be my hero. The woman she slapped completely deserved it and there were plenty of witnesses around to nod their heads and confirm, “Oh yeah, that bitch just got slapped!” Unfortunately, due to an egregious miscarriage of justice, my aunt had to pay thousands of dollars in lawyer‘s fees just to stay out of jail after the woman pressed charges. How could this have happened in this day and age? Sometimes people need to be slapped and I just don’t get why it’s not an understood American right.

This thought stems from an incident from this morning where someone tried my patience. Long story short, JW’s neighbor has beef with him about typical neighborly disputes—therefore she has beef with me as a frequent houseguest and witness of disputes. For whatever reason I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt and I’ve been trying to establish some sort of peace in this chaotic rivalry between them but alas, she had to try me. I leave his apartment this morning and drive halfway home only to discover there’s a note on my windshield. Why, who could it be leaving me a nice little love note to take home and cherish? The note was addressed to Bobbi Kristina—which I suppose is funny but kind of missed the mark because:

BK

Not bad looking at all…

  1. I don’t think BK is a terrible looking woman. I actually think she’s cute. Our feminine egos would love for our celebrity doppelgängers to be perhaps more glamorous or sexy but I really don’t care and I’ve been called this before and even nicknamed this by someone and it left me with an overall feeling of “Meh”. (I didn’t even think the neighbor had seen my face enough to make that kind of association).
  2. If it was supposed to be some sort of jab about my gap teeth she’s about 15 years too late. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been made fun of for something that is obviously not a big deal to 99% of the people I meet. Also, life is too short for me to be particularly bothered about not having perfect teeth. I have bills to pay and children to rear!
  3. I am perhaps mean for mentioning this but I have to—the woman who wrote this note is morbidly obese. She is not thick, she is not phat OR even fat; she is a walking heart attack. This woman is so large that she can’t even put her arms down at her sides. I don’t want to be cruel about her health problems because I am a woman that struggles with weight issues as well—but I also would not be so foolish as to leave a threatening note on anyone’s windshield and dare try to tease them about their appearance when I am clearly not placing in any beauty contests myself. It’s just Womanhood 101. Making fun of people with your friends and anonymously on the blog is great fun; but to do so in person reeks of petty high school one upmanship and I’m just not about that life.
Proud GA

Proud Gaprican American and Grown Ass Woman

Anywho, the note was basically the petty kind of stuff you would expect someone to say if they were trying to provoke you, concluding with a nice threat to take home and meditate on. I do not take kindly to being threatened and don’t know too many that do. This animosity between the two neighbors has now become my problem and I am livid. Because I use words like “livid” I’ve heard more than once, “Oh, you don’t look like the type to be a good fighter.” Listen,  my fighting abilities don’t even come into play here; I don’t need to fight—I just need to slap a bitch. It’s so easy and really all that’s necessary to solve this whole dilemma. However, because of silly little words like “assault” and “jail time”, I am not able to do what I need to do to nip this whole thing in the bud. I truly believe that my hands have healing qualities and I would be able to slap the crazy right out of her and she would probably even thank me for releasing her of all her foolishness.

Seriously, what is happening in my life right now that I’m even dealing with this sort of thing? Trying to discuss it with JW is only resulting in us fighting amongst ourselves and I have to say; I really resent this woman and the position she has put me in. I want to support my man and take it to the streets with her—but the onus is on me to be a lady in this situation thus my hands are tied. Becoming the rowdy “hold it down” chick just can’t be on my list of amazing qualities because I have children and a career and simply cannot afford to spend time in in jail AGAIN! So here I am, typing this and taking the high road. The adult thing to do is to defer to my man to solve his own issues with his neighbors and to stay the hell out of it and disregard her note entirely– hard to do without feeling like a little punk.

As nice as it would be to slap a bitch (even only once!) there is  simply too much risk involved. The high road to mature adulthood officially sucks ass…

TD High

To slap or not to slap….THAT’S the mofo question!

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

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I forget about it—and that’s my fault really, because how do you forget something that’s actually kind of a big deal? Also, lately I’ve been functioning really well because I haven’t really had the time to be sad or feel depressed—but dammit it really creeps up on you sometimes. I was JUST ok, then I spoke to JW on the phone and I couldn’t stop crying. I managed to get away with disguising it as sleepiness but something punctured and I just can’t get back on track. I feel I’m running from something and I’m feeling the need to escape but from what, I don’t know…  This is it, right? My life is going well, I am trying to find balance and there is nothing wrong with me enough to be feeling this way right now.

It’s going to drive a huge wedge into my relationship—I’m sure of it but I can’t stop it. I’m on the deck of the Titanic staring that huge iceberg in the face.  As humiliating as it was, I tried my best to explain to JW that sometimes I’m just not right and I still don’t know the trick to getting better and functioning like an emotionally healthy adult. I basically felt like I  was saying, “Oops, I forgot to mention that sometimes I’m just crazy and I have no control over when it’s going to happen…good luck!” This is every man’s worst nightmare; thinking everything is moving along just fine then being bamboozled with a random problem that is virtually unsolvable.

Mostly, I am just so fucking embarrassed. Poor me, right? Grew up middle class, and my own poor decisions led to bad relationships and unhealthy thought patterns; now waking up and living everyday has become my most difficult accomplishment. And it’s not really that I want to die…I just don’t want to be hassled with LIVING. I’d love to lie in bed and stare at nothing for the rest of my life. I imagine it’s what heaven must be. I would categorize it as laziness but there’s a debilitating sadness that comes along with it that I just can’t shake. I force myself to keep moving, keep pursuing, keep trying but I’ve hit a wall and everything is happening underwater now. I can’t move—I don’t want to, but I have to. There is nothing going on in my brain, but too much and not enough all at the same time.

I don’t want to write about this, I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be the surprise at the dinner table; eating in silence, not knowing what to say and pretending to be present when I’m really functioning in white space. I don’t want anyone to talk to me while I’m eating, I don’t want to pass anyone the bread, or laugh at anyone’s jokes. I just want to drink all the wine and eat all the food in silence fighting my own battle to finally not think or worry about anything at all. I don’t want to have to let someone in– and I’m aware those metaphors don’t make sense.

Nutrisystem Diaries

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LOGO LEAF

My nutrisystem was delivered last night! I ripped open the box and quickly selected a few menu items to take with me to JW’s house. I was excited—and he was excited for me in the most diplomatic way possible.

I told him the news through the curtain in the bathroom as he showered. “That’s great, baby. You’re going to lose a lot of weight and feel good.” Kind of a slippery slope thing for him to say (for any man to make any comment about any woman’s weight EVER), but I feel like I know him well enough to realize that he likes me as I am and just wants me to feel the same. Later as I attempted to climb into bed while still wearing my shirt, he flashes me a flirty grin and softly suggests I take it off. The thought, to me, is horrifying. I don’t want my belly flip flopping in bed as we lay together and I don’t want to have to worry about jiggling or moving too much in general—but what baby wants, baby gets. We’ve been together long enough, but I still feel shy in those moments…the shirt came off.

He rubbed my back and said, “Look at you…” Feeling slightly more at ease I lay down on the pillows. He leaned over me and cupped my face. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

THIS is the moment I will use to propel me forward in my weight loss efforts.

 

Also, I took 3 shits today………

Happy Valentine’s Day (ad nauseum)

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Surprise! I like Valentines Day now!  OK, not really but kind of…I mean five years of casually dating assholes that conveniently disappeared around this time of year only to resurface with a flood of flirty texts in March, it’s a miracle I have any regard for romance at all– much less this DAY!

I’m OK,  You’re OK

Liking the “holiday” is fine. People nowadays just love when women renounce all the mushy girly stuff and proclaim feminism and career minded ambition. What if I told you that the two are not mutually exclusive? I want flowers, awesome sex and maybe some candy on February 14 because I’ve allowed myself the luxury of falling into the hype a bit. This is the same reason we buy Beyoncé music, dance to misogynistic songs in the club, and hate Fox News. We all drink the kool aid in sips and teaspoons at some point,  it doesn’t mean you are conforming if you just happen to not hate an activity that everyone else is doing.

And yes, I’m probably coming off as condescending because I finally have a man and a means to celebrate the “holiday” with someone else. Listen, my single ass spent plenty of time liking Facebook pics of other women’s Godivas as a single tear rolled down my cheek.  Been there,  done that and most likely will have to do it again.  However, it was when I was single that I realized that my crusade against the day needed to stop. If you don’t like it, think it’s too commercial and don’t nobody need to tell you when and how to show love to your significant other then. ..fine…shut the fuck up. Why kill anyone else’s vibe? Hate and make fun of people in your close circle of friends–it’s more fun that way AND you don’t come off like an asshole on social media.

But if you are into it, don’t be ashamed! Post those pics, hash tag ’em and stuff your face with chocolate. Men: if your girl is into it, what’s the harm in humoring her for one day? You can please your SO by doing the things that make them happy without selling out your identity and core beliefs.

A few weeks ago I was shopping online for some shoes while hanging out at JW’s house. I landed on a pair I loved and proceeded to interrupt whatever he was talking about to show him my newfound loves. “Baby, what do you think of these?!” He gives the screen one long look and responds without missing a beat, “Baby, those shoes are fire!” What he was really saying was, “If you’re excited, I’m excited.” To know that he would humor me in such a way made me feel loved and free. I doubt he really cared about the shoes one way or the other, but taking the time to indulge me is the sentiment that will stick with me long after the holiday.  Its the thought AND effort that counts.

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First V Day Gift Received in Years

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone…I know. ..barf

The Pursuit of Unhappiness: Part 1

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Sad

The horrible, ugly truth of it is…I am happy. Ridiculously and grotesquely and I don’t really know how to BE happy without making apologies or fearing it. I suppose the past 5 years has been a torrential downpour and I’m so comfortable in that environment that I don’t know what to DO when things have been going decently and life has taken a respite from pummeling lemons at my defenseless body.

Oops, I Did It Again

If you’ve read the blog you know that 2014 was chock full of hedonism and debauchery. Well, not really anything that exciting or scandalous—but I did make the effort to date a lot and sprinkle around a few morsels from my heaping bag of wild oats. Most of my posts about dating came off as whimsical and kind of fun, and it WAS— up until a certain point. The truth of the matter is that I really hate modern dating and how it is set up. I had simply given up and adopted a “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” attitude” and learned to use these new lazy courting methods to my advantage. After a while, juggling men, keeping up with text messages and hang outs and being treated like a piece of meat took its toll and I believe I was at an impasse. I was either going to become this jaded chick that dated multiple men and never settled down or made a commitment OR I was going to grow up and realize that sometimes LOVE HURTS! That’s the risk we take every day by involving ourselves with other human beings and allowing them the power to disappoint us. There is absolutely no way around it and I was beginning to look like a fool for thinking that I could avoid heartache by controlling the men around me and remaining aloof in soul but not in body.

I made the decision to do better. I had reached a certain level of maturity to understand that there is no reward if there is no risk. I missed the days of rubbing someone’s back and actually listening to the story they’re telling me because I care about their thoughts and philosophies on life. I missed consistent communication, lazy Netflix marathons and inside jokes. I MISSED having a boyfriend. As a woman, it’s hard to confess or admit these things to yourself because with the whole “bad bitch”/ “feminist” movement wanting the company of a man automatically makes you weak. Lucky for me, I don’t consider myself that kind of feminist. My pet peeve is feeling censored or judged by others for simply wanting what I want. I am sure there are women who admired that I was going through my sexual revolution phase…then why can’t I be equally praised for my “I want to settle the fuck down and chill with one dude” phase?

But, I digress. Let’s move the story along…

Meanwhile, a persistent young man began to contact me on the dating site for which I was a lackluster participant. I wasn’t really all that wooed by it, but I was bored and his persistence had a hint of desperation in it that gave me the impression that maybe he was just tired of all the bullshit that is modern dating and ready to settle down and give something a chance. We went on a date to a poetry outing and he was cute enough, could carry on a decent conversation and seemed genuinely impressed and interested in me (HUGE points for that). He lived relatively close, as well, so we ended up spending a lot of time together. THIS WAS IT—FINALLY!

In an attempt to disable my account I logged into my profile (for what was supposed to be the final time) and I am messaged by a lovely young man whose dating profile claims he is a whopping 6’5” (yes, please!). Being the flawed individual I am, I entertained conversation with this gentleman because he was hot; plain and simple with no way to sugarcoat that. After exchanging numbers and talking to him a bit more I realized that he was intelligent and fun to talk to even more so than my pseudo-boo I was spending all of my time with (two weeks of pure, unadulterated oversaturation). Some uncommitted dating overlap occurred with the two men for a few weeks and one night, as I sat in the booth of a TGI Fridays forcing myself to smile at the first guy, I realized that I didn’t want anyone else but the second guy. Once I came to that realization I proceeded to do EVERYTHING wrong, by ending things with the first prospect and shifting all of my free time and attention over to the man I favored and could see building something with.

JW

The rules of the blog are that once a male figure becomes a significant part of my life he gets a name. Because I am not a complete asshole I’m always polite enough to not use the actual name of the guy, so let’s call him JW. JW is actually a real, live grown ass man that does real, live grown ass man stuff like; pays rent in his very own apartment, owns a car, has a job, supports his children… It sounds like simple stuff but finding this in dudes nowadays (in the area I live in) is harder than it should be. Those things are nice, but I can’t really qualify them as the things that I care about all that deeply (except for the taking care of his kids thing). As I spent more time with the man I came to realize that his actions actually matched the words that came out of his mouth! He expressed his affection for me verbally and physically, he consistently communicated and touched based regularly and he didn’t play games. As much as I hate this phrase: everything WAS what it WAS…it was GOOD!

Nobody Said It Was Easy

…but it is. I don’t know why and it scares the shit out of me. As it turns out, once I let go of my past hurts and fears; accepting love into my life became easier. JW and I went through the phase of casually dating and after about 3 weeks I was sooo tempted to have the uber confrontational “WHERE IS THIS GOING?” conversation, but something in me told me I didn’t need to. When you are dealing with a real man, it seems things fall into place a little more naturally. I was treated so respectfully on such a consistent basis I just had the feeling that I was finally dealing with an individual that was courting me in the correct way and doing what he could to be clear about his intentions. Look at me everyone; I’m dating a real ADULT!

After the demise of my “relationships” with my children’s fathers and finding out they were both philandering assholes not my true soulmates, I approached dating like a naïve teenager and wasn’t even sure of how I wanted or expected to be treated. I learned plenty of lessons about the importance of giving the benefit of the doubt, the importance of softness and submissiveness, communication, fighting fair, etc.—but I hadn’t yet learned the lesson that these characteristics are NOT TO BE WASTED ON THE UNAPPRECIATIVE! I had acquired all of this knowledge on how to be a good partner but I wasted it on slutty dudes that were not that interested in me, or obsessive dudes that were way too interested. Somewhere along the way I had adapted the motto of “aim low so you won’t be disappointed” so I attached myself to men I knew didn’t want any kind of commitment from me, were not going to pay for any dates, give out any back rubs, no gas money, and definitely no kind of commitment. Dealing with cheaters, liars, ex cons, the selfish, the young, the lonely, the restless was my way of saying to myself  “I don’t deserve any better than this.” So now, when I do have a man that loves and appreciates me, treats me like a priority and protects me I find myself asking the question, “Do I really deserve this?”

I still don’t quite have the answer to that question. But I do know that while I am gifted with this man who goes out of his way to make me feel special everyday, I am going to appreciate that for once in my life, something is easy. He is not perfect— though I am very nearly perfect 😉 –so there is still going to be work involved in the effort to try to get this thing right. Because of my past hiccups I am insanely jealous, suspicious, insecure ALL of that, but I am determined, for once, to chase after happiness. I have put a lot of time and effort into dysfunctional relationships, it’s about time for me to grow up and invest in something healthy that makes me insanely and absurdly happy—even if it scares me shitless

Happy