Welcome to the Friendzone

I just don’t know what the big deal is about the friend zone. Back in my savage dating days, out of the pool of losers I involved myself with there was maybe 2 or 3 I actually liked as people and would want to continue to keep in touch with. Apparently, the truth of the matter is that no guy wants to be your friend. EVER…Period.

He Used to Call Me on My Cellphone…

Help me out with the rules, please! I think I’ve been chastised enough and have found out the hard way that apparently you absolutely CANNOT try to be friends with a dude after sleeping with him—no matter how casual the sex was. Not to sound whiny, but I don’t think that’s fair. *stomps foot*

For example, I had a man casually dragging me along in a situationship/cuffing season arrangement. It was clear to me that he wasn’t interested in making me his girl, however he did want to call and yak on the phone about his new job and his baby mama getting on his nerves. Can I say that this is my pet peeve? If you are objectifying me in a situation that is only about sex then I don’t want to see cute pictures of your snotty nosed little kids. FOH! When I told him I was seeing someone else and it was becoming serious, he was not a happy camper. When I extended the olive branch of maintaining a friendship (because he was fresh out of jail and didn’t have a support system (I know, I need to get my life together– but that’s another post) you would have thought I shot his dog!

I mean, I get it BUT my real feelings are: get over yourself and your busted ass ego. It shouldn’t be a huge wound to your pride that someone you were using for sexual purposes no longer wants to be USED FOR SEXUAL PURPOSES! It has nothing to do with your skills in the bedroom—what If I told you that women don’t like wasting a lot of time with men with commitment issues? So let’s cut out the sex stuff and just kick it if we enjoy each other’s company. The problem with that is, niggas these days don’t want to choose you but want to get chosen by you, then want to boo hoo about the friend zone. How did you get there, homie? And is it the friend zone or the “she ain’t ever going to give me no pussy zone”. It’s a cup half empty or half full kind of situation, and just wanting sex from a woman is not the same as wanting to be her dude and/or being interested in her as a person so I don’t feel sorry for you.

The Weeknd

Have you really earned sex with a woman just because you spent time with her?

I’m not trying to sleep with you anymore but if you want to talk sometime to vent about life or meet up for a drink, cool. Otherwise, kick rocks because that means you were operating off the ” I don’t want you but no one else can have you” plan and NOW you want to wait in the wings periodically texting for relationship with new nigga updates so you can swoop in when times are hard. Ok… I can see why we don’t get to be friends.

Build A Bae

On the other side of it, there are men that I’ve met while out networking and wanted to build friendships with but it’s nearly impossible because no matter what I believe, society believes that men and women are incapable of platonic friendships. I’m trying to get over what others may think but the stigma makes things a little awkward. How do I go about things without it looking like I’m playing the slow game to build a Bae?

In the spoken word community, the places I’ve been so far it seems to be a bit of a boy’s club. If I connect with someone’s writing or personal story while they’re on stage it feels a bit uncomfortable approaching anyone after a show, much less someone of the opposite sex. As an adult woman I don’t see anything wrong with building a network of friends that share common interests. Especially since I am a mother with a full time career and relationship with my own man to maintain; it’s not as if I have plans to be giggling on the phone with this person into the late night hours. It’d just be nice to form a bond with someone without it being perceived as a come on, but I get the distinct impression that as an adult we aren’t really allowed to have opposite sex friends; so why bother?

ATTENTION

Mature women will not waste your time simply to get male attention

This isn’t high school (at least I hope it’s not) mature women don’t plan to attach themselves at the hip to someone who they know harbors feelings for them and force them to cuddle and paint toenails while rejecting their romantic advances for the sake of attention. However, when we attempt to find friendship with a male we automatically run the risk of entering into a friendship, while he is entering into a “friendship”. So, after a hangout you think you had fun with your homie, while he’s nursing his blue balls wondering what he has to do to climb his way out of the friend zone. When did it become a zone as opposed to a ship? And my real question: when did men lose track of their self-control to the point where they can’t even relate to women unless sex is either on the table, or at least slow simmering on the stove to later be served on the table?

The Age Old Question

I suppose maybe I’ve turned into one of those ridiculous people that are offended by everything on the internet but I truly resent the jokes about the friendzone. As a woman I have much more to offer besides bomb ass sex (dammit!) and I don’t want to think that every male is ultimately and secretly after that. It’s safer to just not even attempt to be friends with men at all, and befriending a woman in the area I live in is hardly worth the effort (but that’s yet another post. I’ll just stick to my current roster.

FEMALE DOG

I guess you really just can’t trust a bitch these days…

Recently, I lost a close male friend of mine because our friendship made his wife uncomfortable–in spite of the fact that he doesn’t live near me, I see him once every two years or so and when we do talk we encourage each other about family life and he gives me the guy perspective on my love life. I no longer get to enjoy that friendship simply because our connection was misinterpreted. I have dealt with cheating men who juggled suspicious female “friends” so I completely understand the wife’s point of view and I know why our friendship had to end. Even if your man is not prone to cheating, there are women out on these streets who don’t have boundaries. My ex-boyfriend’s best female friend used to ring his phone off the hook when he didn’t answer– umm fall back, hoe, he’s not your man! I appreciate and try to stay within the boundaries of maintaining a platonic co-ed friendship– but at the end of the day if the siginificant other ain’t down you just have to let it go. It feels a lot like cutting ties with a family member and if allow myself to think about it, it actually makes me pretty sad. Perhaps society itself has lost trust in the bonds that bring people together outside of sexual relationships. So, maybe I shouldn’t bother lamenting the lack of male friendships in my life because who really wants to go through the loss again when that new friend gets a serious girlfriend and has to cut you out of his life as if you’re some home wrecking whore and not just a person who has made a genuine platonic connection…?

…Of Nice and Good Men

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….

image

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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CAN Collector

OK, so one thing about little miss crazy that wrote me a nasty note and left it on my car. I’ve since calmed down and realized that while I want violence to be the answer, I can’t justify stooping to such ratchet levels– but that’s not what I’m going to talk about today. In the infamous note, homegirl referred to my dude as a “corny ass nigga” (in a half-assed attempt to limit cursing and the N-word on the blog I will reference the word as CAN). My question of the day is: OK, so what’s wrong with a CAN??

SBMThroughout my strange dating life I have definitely showed a history of CAN collecting. Sure, I’ve dated all types of men, but the ones I really hit it off with and wanted to retain for relationship building were absolutely CANs. Case and point: the baby daddies. My 8 year old’s father still likes the Power Rangers and thinks World’s Funniest Home Videos is hilarious television programming. My youngest child’s father owns the DVD box set of the Golden Girls and knows all the characters on My Little Pony–these two are not exactly winning any Thug of the Year awards and I’m fine with that. What’s wrong with us women–black women especially– that corny guys are a bad thing? And should we even call them corny or just “dudes least likely to pistol whip you when an argument breaks out”?

Hmm, let’s reflect back on guys I’ve dated that were not corny. Let’s see… there was street pharmacist dude: owned two cell phones and was unresponsive, unavailable and unmoved by most things. Pulling emotions out of him was like trying to pull his strong white teeth out of his beautiful mouth! Great to look at, had a sense of humor but time spent together had a dark atmosphere and it was clear to me we weren’t going to be anything long term.

Then there was Young Thug who crammed a lot of life into his 22 years on the Earth. He appalled me with stories of robberies, drug use and near death experiences and had a strict unspoken rule that he was only allowed to laugh at his own jokes. Whenever I decided to be in a silly mood he seemed more annoyed by it than anything else; and when I did actually say something funny he would smile as if it brought him physical pain and say, “That’s not funny.” One warm day it rained outside and I dared him to go for a run outside in it with me. It was all sorts of cornball fun and games splashing through puddles and getting soaking wet until he abruptly decided that the activity was just too corny and our frolicking came to a complete and abrupt halt. He complained for days about his tawny dread locs being ruined by the rain, but I think he was more mad at himself for daring to have the type of fun that didn’t involve smoking and chilling over “so and so’s” house.

And, lastly I’ll mention the guy who had just finished a stint in prison for 8 years for *mumble mumble* “drug stuff”. We got along decently. He didn’t like to kiss on the mouth, asked me for money (which I never gave him) and didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. Months into our odd acquaintance, I sat at a bar with him watching him be rude to our waiter, and on a whim it occurred to me to get more detail about his 8 years in jail. Well, apparently “drug stuff” is code for, I STAB BED MY EX GIRLFRIEND AND LEFT HER IN THE TRUNK OF MY CAR! Umm, check please.

JW TextJust yesterday, I danced around JW’s apartment in just an undershirt with glass of whiskey in hand, watching him attempt to moonwalk while singing Michael Jackson high notes. I was comfortable and I was happy– and that’s really my only bottom line. Yes, I could see how he could be seen as a CAN. He has goals and ambition, respects and takes care of me, works long hours and pays all his bills in full and on time—who wouldn’t want a corny ass nigga? I’ve been with those guys that don’t return phone calls and can barely go out into public without picking an aggressive fight with a stranger and I just don’t need that kind of excitement in my life. She can be that ride or die chick stashing cocaine in her snatch and being an alibi for her man’s whereabouts between 9pm and 3am last night. As for me and my CAN, we’ll be over here watching Investigation Discovery and sending each other silly text messages. 😛

#Bae

Logo

Social media is the devil, but I still hear it calling me! My problem is that I do things ass backward by reporting and sharing all the terrible shit that’s going on in my life– dating or otherwise– and I feel weird about sharing when it’s good.

No One Likes A Humble Brag

When I was down and out in relationship hell going through my divorce and break up I felt it was the sworn duty of my friend’s to listen to my pain and anguish with their “Mmhmm, girl’s” armed and ready. That’s what friends DO!! But now that I’ve settled into something substantial with a romantic partner that seems to actually love and respect me I feel a little censored. Who can I gush to about my consistent good morning texts and “just checking in” phone calls? The answer: no one.

I try my hardest to regulate my “JW Says the Darnedest Things” anecdotes to my closest bff, but I think that by now even she has reached her limit. With the surplus of social media platforms, humble bragging has become common but it’s best to gear that shit toward a widespread audience because sharing with individuals might just get your feelings hurt. I was bummed out about this at first but now I see it as a blessing in disguise. Feeling kind of like a fool if I were to post excessive #myboo pictures and statuses has helped me to grow up a little and become a more private person.

Bagel

You Down With OPP?

My entire courting and marriage was kind of like a reality show and its rise and fall was very much everybody’s business. With my second major child-producing romantic involvement I learned to get better about not sharing information with my parents. Now, after doing the casual dating thing and keeping that as under wraps as possible (from my entire family and a majority of friends), this new relationship is the 3rd rule of Fight Club: WE DO NOT POST ABOUT IT! With the exception of the blog, (because to most of my audience I am a complete stranger) I try not to share any photos, change any relationship statuses or speak much about JW or follow him on any medias at all. I have my reasons. ..

  1. I’m not a jealous person but I’ve been made into one by the cheaters I’ve dealt with in the past. (So… I guess I AM a jealous person.) I don’t want to spend my time on IG decoding some thirsty comment on my man’s dinner pic: “Ooh can I have a taste?” No you can’t, bitch. That’s my veal parmesan and you can have several seats! People on social media have no chill, and as a person prone to being bothered by it I may as well see no evil and not friend or follow him on any sites.

Furthermore, what’s done in the dark will always come to light. Becoming Nancy Drew and searching for the “Mystery of the Cyber Flirty Boyfriend” sounds exhausting and, for lack of a better term, PRESSED.

Jealousy

  1. I know my role and I don’t want to put too much stock in Facebook affirming it for me. So far I think I’ve solidified my girlfriend status by being present for conversation during number 2s and the meeting and greeting of friends and children, etc. Furthermore,  it is a good trust building activity for me to take words and action at face value rather than putting too much emphasis on how we are presented to our virtual world.
  2. When and if it’s all said and done between us, my experiences and memories will be enough to haunt and hurt me.  I believe in absolute severance and I would not want to deal with deleting, untagging, unfriending and unfollowing. I do not believe in soft break ups!

Number 3

  1. I am way too personal in this blog– it really is in his best interests to remain nameless and faceless.

<–   (5. I’m terribly unphotogenic!) PHOTOGENIC 1

#Maindude

I am tempted to showboat relationship happiness, almost everyday, and admittedly a little envious of those that have the luxury. My baby is a beautiful man…all tall, dark skin, bright teeth and pretty eyes, OF COURSE I want to photo op our every moment together! However, I recognize that the desire to plaster his face all over the walls of my accounts stems from an immaturity and insecurity within me that wants to yell a big fat “HAHA!” in the face of every stupid guy I’ve wasted my time with, and every woman that gossiped about me behind my back. I don’t need to get in the habit of trying to prove a thing to any of those people. I just need to learn to juggle what life has thrown me and enjoy the moments he and I share together while continuing to be present– living in the moment and feeling everything.

I’ve had romantic encounters before that I always worried weren’t real because we never went viral with it. At some point I began to associate a low media presence with a poor relationship. One thing I have been able to learn about myself is that if a man creates a safe environment of trust, consistency and affection then I could care less about the hash tags. Hanging out on a snowy day trying to understand watching the all star weekend dunk contest with him is an activity to enjoy and not a mini photo shoot. The fact that he is spending that time with me is what matters and to hell with what anyone else thinks or doesn’t or what symbolism lies in the public display of commitment.Relationship Killers

Personally, I don’t even know JW’s stance on the whole social media thing. I know he has Facebook and Instagram but that’s pretty much where we leave it. The moment I enter his presence I put my phone away– and he his– and focus all of my attention on us and savor the freedom of the privacy of we share. As a person that doesn’t mind being an open book and challenges herself to overshare in an effort to identify and include others, I must say it feels nice to be saving a little piece to myself.

We’ll see how long this lasts!

IMG_0382                                                But while we’re on the topic, please Like my Embrace the Crazy Facebook page and check out my new website: http://www.whiskeyandpoetry.com

IG: Whiskey_grrl

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Pumpkin Eater

Apparently you are supposed to judge others based on the reality and actions they’ve shown and not based on what, deep down, you know to be true. All men are cheaters. They simply cannot help themselves! And maybe 30 years ago it was much harder for them to do so because women were perhaps a little more virtuous and less willing to overstep boundaries, but where does that leave us today? Our society has allowed for this by creating a space for threesomes and open relationships and being ok with labels like “main chick”, “side chick” and “bottom bitch”. There is only one title that I want and will accept in a committed relationship, and that’s “The One and Only.”

My outlook on love has definitely darkened significantly over the last few years, and now because of recent events, I feel that I’m being haunted by my past. The good news is that my daughter’s father is able to visit her more frequently. The bad news is that his presence conjures up a dull aching pain somewhere back in the recesses of my heart that I would rather forget. It’s funny how you can persevere and time can allow you to get over a person, but I truly wonder if you can really ever get over the pain that person inflicted upon you. I still remember being told/coming to the realization that I was just a side piece. I screamed out in shock, which sounds so dramatic, but I felt so humiliated it was almost the same as being physically punched in the face.

The mind is so amazing! I find that I am usually able to bury those feelings away. But as I sit here typing this and crying at 5am in the morning, I fear that the agony of it may never completely die. It sits just beneath the surface, simmering at low heat. The first time her father came to see her about a week ago it was pretty uneventful. We actually get along great and things are generally fine between us. However, a few days later, I fell asleep lying in the arms of JW and I woke up on my back gasping for air in what felt like a mini panic attack. I’d had a nigtmare that JW had confessed to sleeping with someone else and I was trying to wake myself up out of it but I couldn’t move. When I finally awakened I felt that oh so familiar aching and I really just wanted to bolt out of there and go home. Instead, I forced myself to grip his hand and will myself to go back to sleep. He laced his fingers through mine and it was a reassuring feeling, but the uneasiness never went away.

A few weeks just before, I was brushing my teeth in JW’s bathroom and my body stiffened as I noticed a hair on the floor that didn’t belong to me. I felt my body freeze and my brain went into panic mode. How could I escape this? I went back to bed and lay next to his sleeping body saying my final goodbyes in my head. I loved this man who had given me so much in just a short period of time,  but I had to leave him.  Just like the others he could give me all these wonderful things but the one thing I needed most. And if he’s not cheating now, he WILL and I dont have a plan for how to handle it other than to run.

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With my cheating exes I made the mistake of hanging around far too long. I wanted to ask questions–to know why and how and the who, what, where… I think I’m wise enough to know that none of those details matter now. I don’t have any desire to hang around and torture myself with information that’s not going to change my bottom line. If you cheat, I will be gone without a trace. This time it would be harder than before–a seriously tormenting struggle. When you are elevated to the position of queen, it is a long way to fall when it’s all over. But I would jump from that pedestal in a heartbeat, because who wants to suffer and be told they are not enough when you’ve been devoted to that person the whole time? I grew up with the pleasure of watching my father love my mom, solely, and I don’t think it’s asking too much to want the same for myself.

Anyway, that day JW woke up and noticed my suffering. We talked things through and the logical explanation was given for the hair in the bathroom. I accepted it with fear in my heart, but I still worry. He shows his love for me everyday, goes out of his way to make me smile, waits for me with my favorite whiskey and cups my face in hands and tells me I’m beautiful. But I still worry and it is completely unfair. Past lies and betrayal continue to haunt me even subconsciously and it’s taking a great effort to make sure that I don’t let any of the others that come after reap what the men before them have sown. I wish I knew the right way to convey the message of how a woman can forever be robbed of her security as a result of careless cheating.

Side chick,  main chick, jump off, bottom bitch– it doesn’t matter how you phrase it or how we as women pretend to grin and bear it: no one likes a pumpkin eater.

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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

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