RSS Feed

Category Archives: Relationships

Marry, Kill, or Do: Resume Dater Edition

There was once lived a girl who’d never expressed how a man made her feel emotionally. Through all the endless conversations she’d have with her girlfriends about the men she dated, words like “butterflies,” “real connection,” “funny,” or “chemistry” never escaped her lips. Instead, she’d gush about what school he attended, what his career plans were, and how those career plans somehow aligned with her own. She was in love with a man’s accomplishments. She was a resume dater. See, men date women they may not really like for sex and dump them not too long after. Women, on the other hand, date men they may not really like for his achievements…and try to wife him. Shocking, I know.

Whose fault is it that a woman can have absolutely nothing in common with a man other than a college education and still convince herself that he’s The One? I don’t know, but women are told from an early age to get themselves a man with a good job and money. Period. Remember, Belle wasn’t checkin’ for that above-average cabin-dwelling villager, Gaston. Far from it. She was strung out on a bipolar Beast who lived in the middle of nowhere with talking dishes. Alas, the important thing was that he kept her lookin’ fly, dancin’ around ballrooms while hired servants not only catered to her, but provided unlimited emotional support. Gaston wasn’t spending racks on her like that. Nor did Gaston live in a castle. Personality-wise, Gaston and Beast were both pretty uncouth and foul, so neither trumped the other in that area. Yet, Belle gave Beast that kiss. Message sent.

For those of us in our twenties, men who don’t live in castles still manage get put on auto-choose just for enrolling in a good state university. Think about it. Pudgy, nerdy, or no-game havin’ a** ninjas are choosin’ like they just scored the winning shot. Game 7. Women don’t date men they feel extra tingly over because attraction and personality are only 10% of the equation. Nope, they date men with credentials…men who are “on their level.”  A lot of resume daters could care less about a real connection. It’s why some women are only capable of establishing a connection with a man based on accomplishments. If your conversations with the woman you’re dating start and end with discussion about school and/or career, she doesn’t really like you like that. I mean, she probably likes you, but she doesn’t like you.

For women, the real problem with being a resume dater is that it’s intuitive to equate earning potential with being a good guy (or a guy that’s good for them). It has a lot to do with the perception that a man is educated because he’s a good man. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there has never been a black nerd on TV who was also a player. In fact, the media (and Tyler Perry) has been dividing black men into faithful Carlton’s and womanizing Will’s for generations. Consequently, resume daters put impressive resumes on a pedestal and act accordingly.

The thing is, resume daters aren’t heauxs or gold-diggers (those are women of another variety). They’re women who are simply doing what society tells them to do—going out and choosing breadwinners. Unlike heauxs and gold-diggers, resume daters aren’t out to trick anybody. They’re out for love, just like anybody else.

Marry, Kill, or Do: Mama’s Boy Edition

There are a lot of types of men women should stay away from, but mama’s boys are pretty much at the top of my stay-the-hell-away-from-me list.  Yeah, I know a man who treats his mama right knows how to treat women and blah blah blah. However, I’m pretty much convinced this was made up by some delusional woman to give other women hope that an auto-indicator of good-guyness exists. A) Women get lied to, cheated on, and disrespected by true soldiers of the mama’s boy movement everyday and B) A mama’s boy will let his mama disrespect his girlfriend or wife to no end. So, all of that non-disrespect you’ll be getting from him, you’ll be getting on the back end from his mama and/or sisters. Personally, I’d rather deal with the bull from the person I’m actually in a relationship with (preferably, none at all) than his mama and/or sisters.

Obviously, I want a man to love his mother and/or sisters and have a wonderful relationship with her/them. But, mama’s boys are different. They’re afraid of their mothers in general, afraid to ever say no to their mothers, and afraid to disappoint their mothers. In the beginning, it’s cute and maybe even a little endearing. But, when your dates start getting canceled because she locked herself out of her car and AAA suddenly doesn’t exist or whether or not the two of you should be together is suddenly called into question because she doesn’t like you, dating a mama’s boy gets old. Quick.

Sure, I’ve experienced the suckiness of dating a mama’s boy, but what happens when his mom not only doesn’t prefer you, but prefers his ex? This is a situation I’ve never personally encountered, but imagine thousands of couples have. Even Chris Brown’s mama recently tweeted Rihanna (subliminally, of course) that she missed and loved her. Rihanna (subliminally, of course) replied that she missed and loved her too. To me, that’s awkward. It’s awkward because they’re a couple who probably will never be together again. It’s also awkward because dude has a new relationship, yet his momisn’t over his ex. It’s really awkward (and disrespectful) because Chris Brown’s mother made such an awkward gesture publicly. How can two people move on if his mama won’t even do it?

Starting a new relationship after you’ve already been in a real relationship is hard enough. (Sidenote: by “real relationship,” I mean the kind that forces you to reconsider the steps you’ve taken in life just so you can incorporate that other person into your life goals and plans.) There’s the getting used to a new person and what not. But, there’s also the never-ending comparisons you subconsciously make. Remember how your ex used to leave that one sock laying around? Thank God this shiny new guy is a neat freak! Or, remember how your last girl used to fill in the blank on the regular and now your new girl refuses to fill in the blank until you put a ring on it? Too bad, because she ain’t her! For most people, the comparisons ultimately end with a matter of taste and perception—Lebron vs. Kobe, if you will.  Most importantly, these differences are trade-off’s, and it really doesn’t matter that your new dude smells kind of odd because the last one had dirty fingernails.

For mamas, though, there is no comparison. To her, the new girl isn’t an upgrade or even a lateral move. It’s a straight-up downgrade. It’s the reason why mamas are so bold in declaring their preference for the last chick, either privately or publicly. Herein lies the awkwardness. Wanting to move on and being able to are two different things, and mamas love to complicate that process. Even mamas who wanttheir mama’s boys to be happy want that happiness to come in one of two ways: Either doting on their mother the rest of their lives or doting on a woman they’ve hand-picked and approve of.

Us women who aren’t apart of the hand-chosen elite are pretty much stuck fighting an uphill battle. Now, I’m not against dating reformed mama’s boys—men who’ve gone through mama’s boys anonymous to learn to cut the umbilical cord and what not. But, dating a mama’s boy is only worth it when the relationship is great. So great it’s damn-near flawless. And, he has to be great, too. So great he’s been featured in Essence’s bachelor of the month every year since high school. I don’t mean a medium-iight relationship like Chrissy and Jim Jones. And, I don’t mean a gross-lookin’, hood ass ninja medium-iight dude like Jim Jones, either. If I’m going to be battling another woman for my man and that other woman is his mama…well, it better be worth it. Chances are, it won’t be. 

An Open Letter to Men (RE: Take Care)

There are two things that irk me. Pretenders and haters. People who spend their lives pretending to be whatever and hatin’ on whomever can pretty much get doused with a bucket of slime. Nickelodeon. Unfortunately, the release of Take Care brought out the hatin’ ass pretender in men around the country. To mask their deep appreciation (what else) for a record that actually speaks to a portion of their every day experiences, men started pretending like Take Care wasn’t for them. Even worse, men started acting likeTake Care was garbage because, well, what kind of rapper doesn’t lie about who he is? Men lied and said they grew ovaries listening to it. Men hated on Drake for talkin’ about women, instead of bad b*tches and h*es. Men hated on Drake for…uhh…dealing with the consequences of making major choices in your twenties. The thing about Drake that appeals to female audiences isn’t that his music is effeminate/emotional/for suckas. It’s simply that he’s every guy every woman has ever been in a relationship with in Mp3 form. We don’t relate to Drake. We know him because Drake makes music for men who date and sleep with women. That emo light-skin ninja you love to call soft? That’s ya’ll. Every. Single. One of you.

So, you think “Marvin’s Room” is the “player haters anthem” sung only by the ultimate lonely boy?  Actually, that song is the very conversation your girl is having with her homeboy about you right now. Yep, that’s right. Somewhere in the world, your girlfriend’s brother/homeboy/ex-man/father is telling her that she can do better—much better—than you, sir. Despite your best efforts to disguise it, women know that men actually hold women in high-esteem. It’s why you’re annoyed with the dude your home-girl/sister/ex is chillin’ with right now (no one’s good enough for her). In truth, sometime this week you’re going to tell your home-girl, sister or ex-girl that she can do better, too. Maybe she can, maybe she can’t. But the point is, someone thinks so and someone is, in fact, “player hatin’.” It’s the reason why your home-girl calls you at 3am complaining about her man. She wants to hear someone player hate the sh*t out of her current dude. And, you know why she calls you out of her 27 female BFF’s? It’s not because she wants a “male perspective.” It’s because she knows you’re down for some good old-fashioned player hating delivered in the form of perspective. In fact, Adam was using that “I’m just sayin’” line on Eve way before Drake was even born. Genesis.

You can’t stand hearing Drake warn his girl to stop wasting her time with him because he’s focused on his grind right now? Really? Because that seems to be the theme of  most relationships that take place between the ages of 20 and 32. Drake telling an accomplished woman that he’s proud of her is a little too sappy for you? I get it. It’s cooler to tell a woman that you’re proud of her thighs, huge a**, long hair, and light skin. But, that has to get old. Or, maybe it doesn’t. To each his own.

The thing that gets me isn’t so much that men like to deny that they actually relate to this dude—It’s that most of y’all are worse than him. Care Bears. You can’t stand his whining? Yeah…okay. If Drake spent one hour sifting through me and my friends’ inboxes, he’d have enough material to write his next four albums just based off of the dozens of emotional e-mails men like to send when they even think they’re in love and sh*t starts going bad. If he went ahead and added Gchat conversations to the mix, he’d have enough material to last a lifetime. Give him a spy cam to watch over our most personal moments filled with testosterone tears, male sniffles and he-man hissy-fits, he could write enough material for the next seven generations of “emo rappers.”

 Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that Drake is the greatest rapper alive (far from it), but he’s definitely an accurate representation of straight men everywhere. I guess you could say he’s “not a rapper.” That may be true at times, but not because he sings “too damn much.” Rather, Drake’s not a rapper in the traditional sense. Most rap is about smashin’ bad chicks and getting’ racks on racks. Drake, on the other hand, is about consequences. He talks about what happens when you get money to blow too young to make good choices with it. He talks about dating women who’ve been hurt. He talks about being hurt. They’re conversations that men have with their home-girls and the fights you’re having with your girl right now. Maybe men don’t appreciate Drizzy airing out their emotional laundry. Whatever it is, women know what’s up, no matter how much you try to deny it.

S.T.F.U. 4 L.U.V.

Relationships are hard. We know that. However, relationships are unnecessarily hard when other people don’t like your relationship. I know this because there is no one I’ve hated more than the slime some of my friends have dated. Yes, slime, because that’s exactly what they are to me. The cheating, lying dude who broke my best friend’s heart five years ago? I’m still trying to have him exiled.

 It’s because of this that I try my very best to keep my mouth shut about whatever it is that’s going on in my relationship. This is a reflection of me wanting us to last. And it’s not that I keep my mouth shut because I’m dating slime, myself (I hope). I keep my mouth shut because saying anything other than, “He makes me feel like I have tiger’s blood and Adonis dna” is the equivalent of saying, “He ain’t sh*t.” No lie. This phenomenon is directly related to the Ain’t Sh*t Detector your closest friends are hardwired with. Your friends’ Ain’t Sh*t Detectors go off whenever you say anything even remotely negative about your significant other. Suddenly, their heart starts racing and their temperature rises. They’re pissed—Pissed at you for dating a human being who’s doing anything less than winning. 

Suddenly, you have a problem. Now, your friends think your man ain’t sh*t because you spent the last 30 minutes ranting to them about how he blew you off for his friends last weekend. Strangely enough, you suddenly can’t stand that your friends don’t support your relationship. And why would they? Sure, you may tell them things are fine if they ASK and things happen to be fine at that moment. But, lets be real—The only time you ever voluntarily mention your significant other’s name to them is to lament how he/she hurt you in some way.  Plus, you just spent the last week sending all these sad ass broken-hearted tweets out to the world and re-tweeting @TheSingleWoman like the New Testament. To really show the world how you felt, you posted the original, the horrible Euro Mix, and the Hip-Hop remix versions of “Deuces” to your Facebook profile…all at once. You even started a blog like this one and used it as a forum to rant about how much pain and anger the only person you’ve ever really, truly loved caused you. But, of course your friends should “support” your relationship. If they were your “real” friends, they’d support that you love this other person. Right? Wrong!

I have a friend who was in a long-distance relationship with some broke dude who allegedly lived in New York. Every time she mentioned his name, it was, “He asked me to wire him 500 dollars for rent, but he’s going to pay me 10,000 dollars as soon as he makes this drug sale.” Or, “His sister called and wants me to bail him out of jail.” Lest we forget the, “This broad came up in my job saying he flew her out to see him in New York. She described what his place looked like perfectly.” I don’t think anyone’s Ain’t Sh*t Detector has ever been hotter. Even when things were going well between them, our Ain’t Sh*t Detectors remained turned up as far as they could go.  Alas, she would look at us with sad puppy dog eyes and say, “You guys don’t know him like I do. I only tell you the bad stuff.” Yes, because the fact that your drug dealing, criminal, cheating boyfriend sent you flowers on your birthday is a real game changer. 

The thing about people’s Ain’t Sh*t Detectors, unfortunately, is that it doesn’t even take a drug dealing, criminal, cheating boyfriend to set them off.  Simply expressing disappointment in or slight hurt caused by the object of your affection is enough to make your friends start singing the lyrics to this song whenever your significant other is within their vicinity.

Furthermore, don’t even think about breaking up and getting back together with someone when you spent the last three months talking sh*t about them to anyone who would listen. In fact, go ahead and prepare yourself for a rousing round of 20 Questions including, “Are you sure you want to do this?” And, my personal favorite, “What makes you think it’s going to be different?” Your friends won’t care that you forgave the one and only person you’ve ever really loved. They won’t even care that your significant other really isn’t all that bad. All your friends really care about is that he made you cry or that she drove you to drink homemade moonshine and smoke powder cocaine a-la Charlie Sheen for five days straight.

Now, it’s awkward because your friends tolerate your significant other, but they really secretly hate them. And, truthfully, it’s all your fault. You ranted about every little thing that person did that annoyed you. You casted that person in a negative light when you divulged details of the fights you two had. Now, you have to defend your relationship because you planted the “ain’t sh*t,” “overly-needy,” “shady broad,” or “womanizer” seed into the garden of friendship.  Now, your relationship is harder than it needed to be all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Training Wheels and Karma

At the end of my third relationship, my boyfriend liked to remind me that our relationship wasn’t a total loss—he was eternally grateful that he had learned lessons he could apply to the next woman in his life.  Because of me, he now “understood” that lying was lethal to a relationship, as were the number of other destructive habits he developed over the years. Because of me, he now understood what it took—“really took”—to maintain a relationship, he would say. Now, this revolutionary concept of trust was nothing to play with. Gee, thanks.

 While I understood what he meant, it was hard not to feel bitter knowing that I spent three years as someone’s training wheels. Like any woman, I’d hope I was his shiny ten-speed.  Alas, that wasn’t the case and I was his life lesson, his raison d’être and the relationship horse from which he fell. Though I’m not sure what to make of this situation, I do know that I don’t want to be anybody’s training wheels ever again. That ain’t cool. At all.

This isn’t to say I didn’t have to learn how to ride before I met my last boyfriend (absolutely no pun intended). I emotionally terrorized boyfriend #2 with my shallow handling of his feelings and general disregard for our relationship. So, I know training wheels, but I also know what happens when you aren’t ready for a relationship—you emotionally terrorize people. You become detached, act reckless with your relationship, allow insecurity to take over, and spew various forms of crazy onto your significant other. What this really says to me, though, is that we wouldn’t need to use training wheels if we were just ready to ride the big shiny ten-speed waiting for us.

Being ready for a relationship isn’t a matter of liking the idea of a relationship. I like the idea of a 2011 Mercedes in my driveway, but it doesn’t mean I can afford it. By “afford” I don’t mean take out a loan that will take 50 years to pay back. I want to pay in cold, hard cash for my Benz. That’s how prepared I want to be to make that purchase. Likewise, while I may like the idea of Lance Gross as my first husband (as long as he stays foine), I want to emotionally afford that relationship. See, the mistake I made with boyfriend #2 was assuming that being in a relationship would force me to be ready for it. It didn’t. Nowhere near it. I took out emotional loan after loan at his expense, thinking that one day I would wake up and be ready to be a girlfriend (because I was learning, of course). Guess what? By the time I had even begun to see that there were lessons to be learned, I’d messed up our relationship so badly that there was nothing left to fix. I’d rode the relationship training wheels thin. So, I broke up with him. He called me some really creative names and moved to another country. True story.

Yes, boyfriend #2 was my set of training wheels, but boyfriend #3 was my karma. I’m only assuming karma, because being training wheels feels like you’re paying for being a kitten killer in a past life. Preparing for a relationship has to take place before you get into the relationship in the same sense that you can’t study for a test while you’re taking it. It’s ass-backwards, and you’ll fail every time. So, while I’m sure boyfriend #3 is out trying to be a better man with the next girl and making use of all those hard-learned lessons, I’ll be getting ready for my next relationship. By ready, I mean stackin’ up my emotional and spiritual paper, because I want to pay cold, hard cash for my relationship. No relationship training wheels, emotional loans and no personal lessons needed. I only hope he’s out there doing the same for me.

Love Me Not…

I was having a conversation with one of my male friends from college today. He was telling me about school and future plans, which prompted me to ask if he was dating. He said no and that he had no interest in being anybody’s boyfriend right now. Period. No further explanation offered. While I don’t doubt he’s getting it when he needs it, I was shocked by his response. Why? Because most people either proclaim to be off the market because A) They haven’t found anyone worth their time or B) Are too busy doing whatever it is keeps them from dedicating time and 1% of the 10% of brain space we actually use to another person (playing the field, school, work, etc).  My friend, however, was unapologetic and offered no excuses for what so many single people are afraid to admit—we just don’t feel like it.

Sometimes, there is no real reason why we don’t want to be in a relationship. For relationship fanatics, though, “single” is a four-letter word so vulgar you have to whisper it. Say you’re single and get the pity look. Say you’re single for no real reason and get tied down and taken straight to Shutter Island. Even worse, perpetually single women are seen as lonely and Jennifer Aniston-ish, while perpetually single men are seen as closeted gays a la Tyler Perry (to be brutally honest).  So, it’s understandable that single folks feel the need to come up with a laundry list of fake reasons we aren’t in relationships. I hate having to lie and say I’m too busy (I’m not) or haven’t found anyone worth my time (I have).  At the end of the day, no matter how much free time I have or how much I enjoy the company of a male friend, I like the relationship I have with myself. I like my relationship with me so much, I’d make Oprah proud.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that single people who are desperate to be in a relationship have never been in a relationship. Ever. They may have come close, but no cigar. I don’t care who you dated in high school for three weeks, or who you called your boyfriend in college for two months. I don’t even care that you were in love with someone for three years and it just never moved beyond the friendship stage. Love is love. A relationship is something else. Sure, a relationship may involve love, but people in relationships know that love is only half the battle. Love doesn’t cause the argument over who left toothpaste on the sink—that’s the relationship’s fault. Until you’ve looked in the mirror and realized that you’ve suddenly morphed into a different person (good or bad) since you first met the object of your desire, you haven’t been in a relationship.

But, of course, you relationship enthusiasts continue to think that single life is lonely and gay. Us former relationship-ers know better. We know that the relationship grass isn’t greener. We know that the grass on the single side of the fence grows in a perfect bug-free climate and stays green with little to no effort. We know that it takes an exorbitant amount of the purest spring water at a temperature of exactly 52 degrees to keep the grass green on the relationship side of the fence. We know that water isn’t even always enough to keep the relationship grass green because sometimes the air is too dry for the grass to grow or there’s been an infestation of pests who love to munch on the relationship grass (infer your own metaphors here).

Even as I write this blog, I know relationship fanatics around the world are rolling their eyes thinking that I’m bitter over my last relationship. I’m not. I know that the next man who asks why I don’t have a boyfriend will follow up with asking if I’m a lesbian when I can’t produce a good reason. I’m not that either. I know people want to reach out to me and remind me that a good man is waiting on me and to maintain my faith. They may even offer prayer. Thanks, but no thanks. Really, I’m fine. I’m not busy, on a spiritual journey, jaded, or bored with the opposite sex. I just know what relationships are. I know their value and I know their pitfalls. More importantly, though, I know that I just don’t feel like being in a relationship. Period. No further explanation needed.

The Difference Between Cheating and Lying

When I found out what I had suspected for years—that my on-again off-again boyfriend of more than three years was cheating during the “on” times and lying during the “off”—I realized that what hurt wasn’t the actual cheating, but the lying.

I laughed when I remembered that one of the first things I had heard about him before we started dating was a lie he had told to get out of a commitment to a campus organization. He told them that the reason he had to break his commitment was because his mom was sick and his family only had one car. I knew this was far from the truth. His mother wasn’t sick and his family had five cars.  I couldn’t understand how anyone could lie about their MOM being sick. That’s the LAST thing you lie about. Sure, lie and say you have other priorities. Shit, say you have a sick great-grandfather, which is technically true if your great-grandfather is dead. But to lie that your own mother is sick? So sick that she needs regular transportation to the doctor/hospital? I should have known then…

I knew he was capable of being dishonest, but it didn’t matter. He would never lie to me.  And then he did. He lied about EVERYTHING: Church, family, and friends…sometimes all at once. When I would confront him, all of a sudden we were talking about the various traumas in his life…the “causes” of the dishonesty. Then I would forgive him  (because who can call your issues BS?) and move on.  I should have known then…

Then, the lies became personal. He lied about our relationship to other women. He lied about his relationships WITH other women. His crutch to get out of it? Frankly, I didn’t KNOW the truth and probably never would. He knew that the odds of me going further than questioning him were slim (I’m not dramatic like that). He got angry when I wouldn’t give him “the benefit of the doubt.” But the element of not knowing always played in his favor. I should have known then…

And then there were the months-long disappearances  so that he could go on various spiritual journeys and explorations of himself. Suddenly, I was dating a monk who needed to go into spiritual seclusion to find and center himself every few months [i.e.-break up]. During these times of self-discovery, I would receive sudden  two-page long text messages from him declaring his eternal undying love for me one minute and a text saying “Never mind. Forget that” 15 minutes later.  I should have RUN then…

This last time, I finally decided to call his bluff about the latest girl I had suspected he cheated on me with. He dared me to contact her if I didn’t believe his story about her, then rescinded the offer when I said I would.  For the first time, I KNEW then. I pressed onward. He started “confessing” to stop me from contacting her. To quote  “Mean Girls,” bits of the truth came up like “word vomit.” I was amazed that he had denied these kinds of lies so much for 3 years, but keeping it from getting out warranted this noble confession.

Still, I continued on in my quest for the truth and contacted her.  And it was ugly. Neither of us could believe the stories he told both of us. His last words to me when I presented the proof of his indiscretions? A short E-mail that simply read, “Well you have your answers now.” I’m glad I finally knew.  I know way more than I ever thought I would from his response alone.

Does cheating hurt? Yes. But the lies will drive you crazy. What they do to PROTECT the lie will drive you crazy (and they will do a lot).  The lies are the worst part, because they take away your sanity—your sense of reality and of right and wrong. Suddenly, a lie becomes “acceptable” because if you loved him, you’d give him the benefit of the doubt. It becomes acceptable because his formidable years were strained and lying is how he copes. At the moment that the lie becomes acceptable, you aren’t you anymore. All you really have IS your truth—what you believe is right and wrong, and what is real. The fact that someone who you trust would disrupt your sense of balance and peace for his own benefit is what hurts more than whatever intimate moments he shared with another person.

The moral of the story? Never excuse the lies, even if they aren’t about another woman. Never allow a person to confuse you and make you believe that treating you NICELY means he’s treating you RIGHT.  There’s a huge difference (and a whole ‘nother blog). But more importantly, never, ever, EVER date a guy who lies and says his own mother is sick…So sick that she needs regular transportation to the doctor. Something in the water just ain’t right.

 

 

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 89 other followers