For Those Who Think Living Single Is A Total Suck-Fest

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The assumption is single living is lonely, miserable living. Society graces single ladies with pity, creating an atmosphere of panic and desperation. There’s always a family member in your ear about finding a man before it’s too late or an article with data suggesting all (like every single last one of them) of the quality men have left the building so whomever (whatever) you can get your hands on, make sure to hold on tight, and be thankful you got someone (something). Who cares if it’s “… just any fuckin body”? (Ummm…I care). 

If a SL isn’t careful, she’ll fall for the trap. She’ll let others convince her life really is a Suck Fest. She’ll put life on ice. She won’t even make an attempt to live a life that’s colorful,  lit, and full of purpose because she’s agreed with the Without A Man You Ain’t Much Of Nothing bullshit she’s been fed. 

The good news is regardless of what society says or feels, there’s an amazing number of SLs living life on their own terms. Woman who are traveling the world, creating dope shit, making moves, starting businesses and non profits. Slaying basically. They’re changing the narrative and having the time of their lives. I love these women. Admire these women. Would like to think of myself as one of these women. 

But if you happen to be a Single Lady Who Agrees With Society, let’s chat.

 SLWAWS: But single life is SO lonely.

MeHow? When there are people, life and opportunities to connect all around. If you’re feeling lonely and disconnected from people, look for ways to foster connection–with those in need, loved ones, friends, your professional circles, and more. You’re going to  have to stop telling yourself that the only way to treat your loneliness is through romantic connection. 

  1. Volunteering is a great way to serve, give back, and step away from the I’m So Lonely narrative. 
  2. Joining  or starting a fitness community where you meet up for weekly walks, jogs, weight lifting, or whatever is another awesome way to combat feelings of loneliness, link up with like-minded individuals, release endorphins, and advocate for your health. It’s a total win-win- win. (I’m a huge supporter of living our best fitness life (getting in at least 3 days or 150 minutes of sweat breaking activity per week) and “preserving the sexy”. It’s a mood booster, vibe elevator, confidence enhancer, and so much more.
  3. Additionally, make an effort to link up with your peeps and family regularly. Decide how often you want to reconnect and catch up on life with each other. Having something to look forward to creates anticipation and boosts your mood.

SLWAWS: But single life is boring.

Me: How? Why? There’s always something happening. Always some goings on. African dance classes, grape stomping events, comedy shows, festivals, museum openings/events, theater, fitness engagements, dining, hiking, galas, cooking classes, marathons, and more. Find the things you like or enjoy and get like Nike. You may have to step out of your comfort zone to enjoy and partake, but life is buzzing all around you. And if you’re waiting for a committee to join you, stop. Who says you can’t venture, explore, and discover alone? I’m not saying you have to leave the country solo (if you’re uncomfortable doing so), but you can go to a concert solo, for instance, and have the time of your life. And trust me, no one will be staring at you with pity thinking “Awww, she’s all by herself”. And if they are, you should be so buzzed from pre-gaming and so high off the music and energy to even notice. For if single living is boring for you one can only assume I Got A Boo Now living will be boring for you too. No one’s coming to save you from living a boring ass life. You’re gonna have to save yourself Girlie.

SLWAWS: Most of my friends are married. And they’re moms. They don’t have time to do hoodrat stuff with me.

Me: Find new friends or acquaintances to kick it and laugh with from time to time. They may not elevate to Day Ones status but you can still have an amazing time with them. Instead of sitting in the house bored, lonely, and envying a friend’s life, you could be out in these streets creating your own life. Facebook has 50,000 social groups all happening at the same damn time. Jump in one. Meet up activities and events are everywhere! So much so it can get a little overwhelming. Meet people who have similar interests (book clubs, foodies, travel clubs, music heads, movie buffs, and more) as you. And go for it! We have to be proactive about changing the narrative. Because if you don’t change your narrative, I don’t believe you’re gonna be able to change your life. Our thoughts create our reality and if all you meditate on is how lonely, miserable, and empty your life is, then life has no choice but to serve you exactly what you’re constantly focused on. 

SLWAWS: But I have no one to go on romantic dinner or movie dates with. 

ME: Take yourself out from time to time. And not on some ‘I’m on a date with Jesus’ foolishness either. (Jesus is my brother.  Or is he my father? Or both? I dont know. It gets a little confusing for me at times. But I definitely don’t view Him as my man. Sorry if this offends anyone. It’s just my opinion). All I’m saying is, if you’re staying in on Saturdays because you have no one to hang out with romantically, be your own hero.  Learn to enjoy your own company. Stop being afraid to do shit because you don’t have a committee or a man by your side. You make more than enough money. Get cute.  Go to that restaurant or theater or wherever. Eat the popcorn. Drink the cocktail. And be merry. 

SLWAWS: There’s nobody to rub my booty.

Me: Girl…goodbye. Every single woman on the planet can get her booty rubbed if she really, really, really wanted her booty rubbed, and that’s on any day of the week. Two words: contact list (old flings, past cutty buddies, new admirers). And I’m not trying to be crass or offensive. I’m just being honest. If I’m wrong you can send me the bill. Now granted, these may not be men you want to go the distance with BUT…if all you want in the moment is…well…you know (don’t make me say it), take what’s worth taking and throw the rest back so to speak. Note: these arrangements can get very tricky for some of us. I’m not 100% a fan as a result. My only point is that there are  always options and eager men available IF that’s all you want and you think you can handle what comes along with strictly physical relationships. In the past (as in a long, long, long, long time ago) I found myself irritated, borderline upset, in these “situationships”. After a brief period of time (fun) I’m like, Dude, all you wanna do is f#*k me? Seriously? That’s it! I have SO much more to offer and all you wanna do is smash?. Man …get the bleep outta here.  And the guy’s all confused, wondering why is she trippin all of a sudden. But everybody’s not all emotional like me. For some, this may be a great, conveinient, and temporary fix. All I can say is walk in your truth and do what’s best for your soul. 

SLWAWS: But I don’t want to have pointless sex or catch anymore bodies. 

Me: Good. Me either. (I dont’t think). And I wish you would’ve said that earlier. We could’ve bypassed the enter booty rub discussion.  Talking about peoples’ sex lives makes me uncomfortable. It’s just so…personal. But anyways, let me add this, self love ( wink ,wink) is an awesome option. It’s safe, carefree, drama less, and emotions are not needed. And you can still get those endorphins released.

I could on, but I feel like this blog entry is already super long. So I’ll just conclude by saying again, SLs we have to be proactive about changing the narrative. Be mindful about the things you agree with and the thoughts you entertain. You’re life isn’t boring or meaningless because you ain’t got no man (in this season). You’re life is a gift. And you don’t have to wait until Christmas or your birthday or until your coupled up to open and enjoy it. Start enjoying and living your most bedazzled (single) life today. 

That Damn Dinner

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It’s hard to believe the season finale of Insecure is upon us. We all have so many questions and wonderings that will require more than one 30 minute episode to satisfy our curiosities. Sunday night was tough to watch. For some reason, I feel so connected with this cast, and I’m confident I’m not the only one. There were so many moments where all I could say was “Damn” (long and drawn out). Daniel and Issa’s phone conversation for instance. From Sunday to Sunday I was giving my man (he became “my man” when I saw how right he had that body looking. Makes me want to reconsider another ab challenge for myself. Hmmm…I just reconsidered it. And…no thanks. Daniel got us. ) the benefit of the doubt. I assumed he didn’t intentionally splash , or should I say spray Issa in the face with…y’all saw the episode. But then he’s all like “…well we’re even now.” I’m like dude! She’s was about to forgive you. Let it ride. And here you go saying something stupid and totally unnecessary. Damn…

Issa and Lawrence. Damn. Damn. Damn (in my Florida Evan’s voice). First of all, Issa had no business pressing Lawrence about bringing a date. FOH. But he went in on her. And she went in on him! And I hated every second of watching their hurt and pain revealed in clapbacks and one ups. As she wrecks her apartment, for the first time, I felt sympathy for her. Like if she could rewind the hands of time, she’d make a different choice. One that may not have involved staying in an unfulfilling relationship but did involve respecting your partner, relationship, and friendship enough not to totally destroy and wreck it beyond repair. Unfortunately… we don’t always get the luxury of rewinding time to make a better choice. And with some people/friendships/relationships, once you lose them, you lose them for good.   Although Issa took an L and tomorrow she may bounce back, Party Time wasted no time on Operation Bounce Back with his new, swaggy friend. Courtesy of him, we may have a chorus coming soon: At 10pm I took an L but at 11pm I bounced back. Damn the both of yous…

Note: You both get on my nerves right now.

And then there’s Molly. Poor Molly. I mean, what the fuck was she thinking getting involved with Dro, especially when we all advised her, through our TV screens, and the “innanet” DON’T DO IT. She looked so pitiful sitting at that dinner table. As if things couldn’t getting any worse than totally being ignored, made to feel invisible by someone you’ve been intimate with  *(man…my jealous, sometimes mildly possessive ass would’ve turned that whole dinner party out. I once got irritated with a guy for telling me another woman “always keeps her hair looking good.” Excuse you!  Say what now? In my mind,  that was a detailed observation that required detailed observation,  it was the perfect opportunity NOT to pay attention, a concern that should not have concerned him. The only (and yes I meant only)  hairstyle he needed to be observing and concerned with  and paying attention to…was mine. Granted, that was YEARS ago  (I’ve grown a bit since) but I’m certain a little bit of that is still in me. Hence, why I steer clear of those types of sharing situations. I know me #knowthyself.  I can’t handle it.)  they get it in in the restaurant bathroom only for him to prove once again she’s not, nor will she ever be, priority. The entire situation made her feel cheap. Disposable. Unworthy (not worth it). Like an option.  Humiliated. I really wished she would’ve given Lionel (with his not so boring to me boring ass a chance) . That way I would not have had to feel the character’s pain, disgust with self, confusion, anger, and hurt ultimately being reminders of times I myself owned those feelings (not for ratings but for real for real).  I understand, but still loathe situations where we (women) take (accept, allow, make ourselves ok with)  less just to say we have some…thing. Those situations that leave us holding the short end of the stick.  Damn those situations.  I need Molly to make us all proud  (Sisters Unite) tomorrow by getting out and staying out.

Alright. Brining this long ass post to a close. Until next time…

*long ass parenthesis break. Sorry.

Cut. The. Shit.

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Want to know what I’m and sick and tired of? FOS (aka Full Of Shitness). And although I’m sick of it, I’m also somewhat intrigued by it. Like why do we feel compelled to BS people…and themselves? What’s the pay off? I think I have a natural propensity to assume most people are full of it to be honest (blame it on my experiences). I give myself pep talks that go a little something like this: Hey, everybody’s not full of it.  EVERYBODY can’t be auditioning for the role of BS artist.  Be open. Give him or her a chance. Imagine my annoyance when my initial suspicions are confirmed. I knew your bleepity bleep was full of it. 

And I guess the reality is we all can be full of it at times. Some of us carry FOS morsels while others are lugging around  whole barrels full of nothing but…you guessed it.  Let’s all vow to cut the shit for the rest of 2017.  Let’s “keep it one hundred” with ourselves and others. If you think your homegirl’s hair looks a hot mess, don’t front and tell her you think it looks cute. If you know you’re not going to call that guy you’re not attracted to, don’t have him calling Sprint to see if something’s wrong with his service/reception. If you’re not leaving your child’s mother  for your girlfriend on the side, man cut the shit, and stop telling your girlfriend you’re working on it ( You ain’t working on bleeeeep. You’re going to be right there with your child’s mother and those kids so cut it!), if you’re not about that swinging/sharing life (Molly reference) stop promoting falsehoods, forcing yourself to do things not in agreement with who you are at your core. Just cut the shit. If you just played the woman like a fiddle for a green card stop trying to present as if you really loved her (90 Day Fiance reference). Cut it! If you’re telling every girl you meet that she’s The One (knowing you lying)  please…cut the shit. Sincerity trumps charm every single day of the year. Just saying. If you’re miserable AF in your relationships, stop posting and posturing as if you’re the luckiest, happiest girl/guy in the world. You’re being a BS artist and you need to cut the shit. I could go on and on with examples of FOS but I’m confident you understand the gist of what’s being expressed.

I’ll be cutting the shit as well for the duration of 2017.  I will speak my truth. I will have courageous conversations instead of smiling and being cordial all while avoiding the pink elephant in the room. I’ll remind myself…Rhonda,this is a great time to cut the shit as often as needed. My goal is to not bullshit anyone,  and I don’t want anyone trying to bullshit me.  I’d love to close 2017 out more authenically than I started it.  I invite you to come along on this journey. Cheers to cutting the shit.

 

Finding Something Real Later In The Game

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As I  smile and click the like button (they really need a love button feature) on most of her pics, and tell friends, “I’m so happy for her. Look at her! She radiates joy and happiness.”, you’d think Letoya Luckett was a personal girlfriend of mine. She’s not, but that would be so cool! ( Her IG posts give me the impression she enjoys life and living. And I love that.) Nonetheless her recent announcement, beach pics with bae, videos, and more fill me with joy.

Let me be real clear, I’m happy for all women who find something real. But I find myself ELATED for women who find something real a little later in the game.  Later in the game meaning you didn’t have the luxury of meeting and marrying your high school sweetheart. Or the privilege of taking that fine chocolate fella who majored in Finance off the market, at the tender ripe age of 21.  Checking meet, marry, and be in a happy, healthy, and loving marriage, with a good man, off your list so you can move on to other life goals.  Nah. For Later In The Game girls something real (solid love) didn’t debut (or hasn’t debuted) as seamlessly as you once may have thought it should. You’ve been through some trials and errors. Some of us more than others.  You’ve found yourself baffled when you’ve done everything you thought you should do but the Love math still ain’t add up right. You may have even declared  after one too many relationship fails Fuck. This. Shit. Now I’m gonna be done (in my Sammy from Jersey Shore voice). Letoya shares that she also struggled with staying open, hopeful, optimistic about Love after her failed relationship with Rob Hill (Me being nosy: Why did they breakup anyway?). But she prayed about meeting someone amazing, had faith, and lived her life (YAAASSSS! I love a girl who lives her life!) until her desire manifested itself.

Earlier I mentioned being filled with joy when her pics blast my timeline. I have to wonder if a small part of this is connected to selfish reasons. You know how in church pastors will tell you to be happy for others who are being blessed because it means you’re blessing may be coming next?  Her story makes me feel less Fuck This Shit: All These MF’s crazy (hands claps inserted) and a little more OK. Sweet, Genuine, Good Hearted Guys Still Exist: Finding Something Real Is Still  Possible…even for Later In The Game girls like me.

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I’m appreciative of Letoya being so open and sharing her story with us. My mustard seed size faith in Love has grown a little more consequently. I hope yours’ has as well.

Oh Tinder

 

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This summer has been quite entertaining to be honest. Nonetheless, about a month ago, I guess I decided a little more entertainment, on those occasional long days of summer, couldn’t hurt (wrong). Those days when everyone else was working, reading didn’t keep my full attention, naps started to bore me, nothing good was on TV, I’d already posted nine times on IG, and my work out class didn’t start for another five hours, Tinder to the rescue. The first few days it was kind of fun. I likened it to playing a video game (although I’m not a huge video game player). Swipe left. Swipe left. Left again. Now right! OK.  I see you. It’s a match! And the next time you’re bored, you play your video game some more. Unfortunately (for me) the novelty of Tinder wore off …real fast. This shit ain’t fun no more.

Why Tinder’s No Longer Fun:

  1. I’m convinced a significant number of people are just curious to know who thinks they’re nice looking. I say this because I have numerous matches in my Tinder log at the moment. These are clearly guys I thought were handsome or kinda cute; guys who must have thought I was at least ok looking. We both swiped right…and that was it! No, greeting, No messages. No nothing. Was I supposed to send a greeting message or something? (Cause I didn’t.) Well, on the bright side, at least I know about 100 (exaggerated number but you get my point) guys from the DMV area think I’m cute. And that’s just so fucking fulfilling. (Sarcasm inserted).
  2.  Tinder definitely has quantity, but I’m not yet convinced it has much to offer me at this time. From the guy who just wants a smoking partner, to the guy who refers to himself as a “freelance gynecologist”, to the guy who referred to me as “cocoa puff” (what the) to the self-proclaimed “cunning linguist” , I think I’m good. Oh and how could I forget the guys who post print pics and almost nudes ? So you’re just all up on the app with your dick out ? in my Kevin Hart voice. I revised my profile to expedite the weeding out process. Matches and messages got dry almost instantaneously.
  3. Tinder doesn’t encourage or inspire  me to be open-minded. My tinder apathy could have a lot to do with everything mentioned in point #2 in my defense. You live 20 miles away?  Too far. Nope. Why you got those silly looking shorts on? Nope. Duck lips? On a dude? Fuck nah. Four kids? As in 4? Nope! I could legit be “Noping” a small (very, very, very small) percentage of quality people on petty technicalities.  But let me check to see how many fukks I give and get back to you on that.

There’s definitely more I can talk about, like the married/involved guys posturing as eligible bachelors. But I think that may deserve a post all of its own. It’s said that  anything you want, you have to work hard for it. But my spirit tells me this is some foolishness and I shouldn’t have to work this hard. I mean, it’s not work work, but it is annoying. And  I equate annoying to hard work. So I think I’ll close my summer out meeting people more organically. (That reminds me, I’m gonna be late for Happy Hour if I don’t hurry up). In the interim, I think I’ll be taking a step back from Tinder for now. All things considered, I’m okay with that.

 

Signing off as A Girl Who Just Doesn’t Think Tinder’s For Her