ULTIMATUMS

I was listening to a video clip of Derrick Jaxn on Facebook last night. He spoke briefly on men, marriage and ultimatums: indicated he was no huge fan of  the u-word. The word ultimatum sounds a little ugly I admit, but the associated synonyms sound very practical, logical really.

Synonyms For Ultimatums 

-uncompromising demand
-final offer
-take-it-or leave-it deal
-final notice
-final terms
-final warning
-final word
-last chance
-last offer
We issue ultimatums—last chances, final offers, final notices— all the time I believe.
Examples:
~ “Chrisette this is your last chance to decline 45’s invitation”, said The Black Community. If you decline, we’re good. If you accept and perform, we ain’t fuckin with you no more. (She thought ya’ll was just talking. She was clearly mistaken.)
~ If this restaurant issues me shitty service one more time, I’m never coming back again.
~ This mechanic is always on some bullshit. If my car’s not finished by noon I’m taking it someplace else, and I’m never coming back.
       An ultimatum is simply having an understanding of what you want, an expectation of how your desires should be met and delivered, and enough consideration to give involved parties the opportunity to meet your demands. So what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with giving your beau an expiration date on his slow dragging? Nothing’s wrong with it. Nothing’s wrong with issuing an ultimatum in my opinion. But unlike with a mechanic or an establishment, something feels a little (a lot) fucked up about having (feeling required) to issue an ultimatum to a person who claims to love you but who’s also dragging their feet on you.
       I remember having a conversation with a friend who was in this predicament. She said, “I shouldn’t even be going through this.” And I understood her wholeheartedly. It feels like you’re twisting someone’s arm just to be with you. The fuck? Though some guys may need a little encouragement in the area of full fledge commitment, and they may need to understand that their lady’s not going to play this game long-term, it still feels like an insult (a slap in the face) for a woman to have to go to such extremes (ultimatum issuing). It’s a mood switcher. Like dude, I gotta twist your ear for a commitment? Fuck it. I don’t want it then. You keep it.
       We want guys to view being partnered with us a privilege, not an obligation (“Ok. I’ll marry you Gina. Damn!”). And once the territory of issuing ultimatums is entered the lines of being considered a privilege versus an obligation get blurred. In this regard, it is my hope that from this day forward, we choose men who choose us repeatedly (sans prompting, sans coercion), men who appreciate and feel privileged to have us. Men who don’t need ultimatums to keep us.

Miss Me With Those “Cuffingships”

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‘‘Tis the season” for hearty stews, homemade soups, and hot chocolate smothered with whipped cream. It’s the season for high boots and Friendsgiving, scarves and ugly Christmas sweaters, Netflix and ski trips. It’s also the season for single gals who are feeling a little lonely, somewhat anxious (wondering why their Boaz still hasn’t presented his azz), in slight despair, uninspired by a possible season of solo hibernation, to be extremely cautious. We have to be mindful Ladies, that Cuffing Season is upon us.

 Understand that this season was created by and for persons who’d rather spend the cold, dark, and sometimes dreadful months of winter snuggled up with someone “good enough” for cuffing than all alone. And I totally get it! You get the temporary perks and feels of a relationships from November through about late February, early March. By the end of March you get your papers signed, freeing you up for Springtime Frolicking and Summer Flinging. It sounds SO ideal! Almost makes me want to get signed up. There’s just one teeny tiny problem: being regarded and treated as a Good Enough Girl (good enough for cuffing season but soon after that ass is getting dropped) doesn’t sit well with my spirit, with who I am at my core. If it did, I’d surely participate in all  the season’s festivities. I’d even have a rotation like my girl Issa! But, in this regard, I know myself all too well. It’s all fun and games until your worth isn’t recognized and valued.
So in the interest of not busting anybody’s car windows out ( because in December I knew it was most likely just a cuffingship but by the end of January all the playing relationship had me feeling like I was in a relationship, and by  February I’m questioning why a nigga’s not gathering I’m quality–as in God’s wonderfully and beautifully made child, as in why am I–ME–on a fuckin cuffing bench when I should be running the point–and pissed the hell off  in mid March when he starts to pull back because…well duh…Spring Frolicking is upon us) I prefer to sit this season out.
If (when) I find myself tempted to cuff  (in my Tempted to Touch song voice),  I get brutally honest with myself. Next, I remind myself I have options.  Then, actually I’ll save that for the following post.  

 

Anti-Cuffing Season Checklist

Be Honest With Yourself

Ask yourself how will this situation most likely end? How long will it be all fun and games until emotions get involved and feelings get hurt? Has this person actually demonstrated he’s worthy and appreciative of me, my time, my offerings? Is he more charm than genuine? Am I just bored? Feeling lonely? Would I entertain him under ordinary circumstances? Am I trying to make this more than what it really is? Is my spirit really ok with being a seasonal F#%k Buddy/Fake Girlfriend (granted he may not come right out and refer to you as such but he’ll drop clues regarding his intentions)? If after being honest with yourself you conclude #issacuffingtrap, steer clear. Guard your heart and protect your spirit, your feelings, your peace, and your time.

Believe You Deserve More

In addition to protecting your spirit, have faith and believe in yourself. Believe that you can do way better, that you deserve more than someone who just wants you as their wintertime smash buddy. I don’t care if the situation is looking bleak. You always have options. And by options I don’t necessarily mean a plethora of men. You have the option to value what you have to offer. You have the option to regard your offerings as sacred treasures. You have the option to tell a mf  “get the fuck out my face with that cuffing-proposition-bullshit.” If you feel your options are slim or non-existent, start talking to yourself differently; start thinking differently about yourself.  Start telling yourself things like:

I’m dope AF (then go do the shit that makes you feel dope…AF)

I’m a treasure (And you don’t need anybody to co-sign on this for you. YOU just have to believe it and govern yourself accordingly.)

I deserve more (You’re damn right you do!)

I got time. I can wait for something with meaning and purpose. (The illusion of not having options and time always seem to trip us up).

When you talk differently to yourself, you start to feel and think differently about yourself.  “The tongue has the power of life and death”. We have to speak life over ourselves, our confidence, our boldness. And we have to lay the spirit of slumming  (settling for way less because you don’t  believe you can have more) to rest…for good.

 

To Be Continued…

 

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

 

Why I Appreciated Girls Trip

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A friend and I recently had the opportunity to exchange thoughts regarding the recently released Girls Trip. She shared how she thought she was a combination of Lisa and Dina. We laughed for what felt like hours as we recalled the golden shower and grapefruit scenes. A moment was also designated to clarify some grapefruit related information for me. (People really do that? THAT’S what that lady was talking about in that video? Hmmm. Interesting. Well what about the citrus juice? I wonder why she said don’t use a pineapple though?). And my friends are kind enough to take their time with me. I love them for that. They know I process some things on the slower side. Lol.

We talked about Ryan’s unfulfilling relationship. How my aunt thought  her husband was “ugly”.  “They could’ve gotten a better looking man than that to play her husband. That man was ugly.”, were her exact words.  My friend totally disagreed by the way. “If she would’ve stayed with him, not told the truth, and continued living a lie I would have cried for her.” , concluded my mom. My friend and I touched on how we were happy to see Ryan get her swagger back at the end of the movie and the possibility of her pairing with Larenz Tate’s character. Speaking of Larenz Tate!  He looks freakin amazing! He almost makes me want to consider being vegan. Almost. For now, I’ll consume meat/dairy in moderation. Work out 3-4 times a week. Shoot for a gallon of water a day. And get plenty of rest. That’s all I got. Chicken wings and macaroni and cheese be calling my name. Then we reminisced on personal Essence experiences, many moons ago (chasing Boris Kodjoe down the road so we could get a picture. He looks just as good in person as he does in photos and on T.V.  There was no shame in leaving a table full of girlfriends in a Nawlins restaurant while we broke out into young jogs, for blocks, racing to catch up with BK’s fine ass. And it was so worth  it!).

After the laughing, note comparisons, and reminiscing concluded,  I was reminded of  what I appreciated most about Girls Trip (even more so than the opportunity to drool over Kofi’s beautiful self) . I appreciate how  the true testament of true friendship was represented in GT. As they went in on each other in that hotel lobby, threw the F word around like crazy, said some pretty hurtful things to one another, and made unfair assumptions, I wondered how in the world would they  recover; if they’d recover.  As a person who is prone to putting  walls up as a safeguard from pain,  it made me wonder  if I’d be open, willing, vulnerable enough to rekindle with friends after such offenses. I loved how they said what they felt needed to be said, issued sincere apologies,  cleared up misconceptions, clean slated each other, and kept the party going.   I once believed a sign of  a true friendship is never being offended by anyone. Every friend doing and saying the right things so there are never any “issues”. But that’s bullshit. That’s not how life works… at all.  And it holds people to unfair and unrealistic standards. I now feel that true friendship involves being able to make mistakes (because no one is perfect), having a safe space where you can be vulnerable and not guarded, vulnerable enough to aplogize when your’e wrong, vulnerable enough to forgive, clean slate, and keep the friend train moving. True friendship involves courage and having uncomfortable conversations instead of taking the easy route (done-ing someone). It involves valuing the relationships you have more than you value your pride or image. They can involve work sometimes. But true friendships are worth the work.

I will be seeing Girls Trip for a third time today!  And no, not because I want to drool over Kofi (again). I want to accompany and spend quality time with a friend  (cousin) who hasn’t seen it yet, laugh some more, and be reminded once again of what true friendship looks like.

Team Lawrence

 

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As we’re all waiting with bated breath for Insecure Season 2 to kick off, I can’t help but recall how Lawrence played the hell out of all of us on that final episode of last season’s show. We thought he’d be sitting in their apartment, on that sofa, looking pitiful, awaiting to have a conversation with Issa about the relationship’s next steps. As Issa enters, we don’t see Lawrence on his favorite spot though. We assume, being that it’s super late, he must be resting. We anticipated the meeting between the two being a little awkward at first.  Issa would work her charm, offer sincere sounding apologies, and Lawrence, being the nice, non-confrontational, just happy to be here guy he is, would take and stomach the hard blow (infidelity) Issa dealt, in the name of Love. And I guess that would’ve been an OK ending. Nah! I’m lying. I would’ve been SO disappointed had the season ended in that manner. I was cheering for Lawrence like one cheers for their favorite Cavs’ player at a Golden State vs. Cavs game. When Issa enters the bare, Lawrence-less bedroom I was like Say. What. Now. Couldn’t help but sit up a little taller on my own sofa. What’s happening here? Then she pulls open the closet door only to learn it’s empty…AF (well he did leave his Best Buy polo shirt) and that’s precisely when a slight smirk crossed my face and Lawrence received the infamous I See You head nod from me.

Hating to see the too nice people of the world (TV world included) get the short end of the stick, I was geeked about Lawrence reclaiming his dignity and getting some of his swagger back. Of course, I’m aware he was unemployed (but receiving unemployment checks and had savings to fall back on thus not living off of Issa totally) far longer than desired, seemed to have lost a little bit of his confidence and ambition (temporarily), and totally threw some of his GQ out the window (lack of haircut, unshaven, unsightly lounge clothes). All things considered, I’m still a proud member of his team. He did not deserve what he was dealt.  I’ve always felt Lawrence was a good guy who could be trusted, counted on. Not perfect, but loyal. And his loyalty, despite all his other imperfections won him SO many points on my score card. Sending Miss Tasha away when she tried to holler gained him a point or two. Always having Issa’s back, supporting her professional endeavors, encouraging her, you know being a true friend, earned him points as well.  I think Issa’s cool and all. Don’t get me wrong. But she lost  lot of cool points along the way when she:

  1. Thought it would be entertaining to to make light of her best friend’s love (or lack there of) crisis. Molly pours her heart out to someone she feels she can trust. Issa abuses that trust, hops on stage and has the time of her life rapping about Molly’s “broken pussy” . How insensitive! With friends like that who needs enemies?  Girl. All. The. Way. Bye. (Deduction)
  2. Told Daniel he was just an itch she needed to scratch. Like wasn’t this guy supposed to be her “friend” at some point. I mean Daniel isn’t my favorite character but geesh , when she said that to him MY feelings were hurt. Insensitive. Cold. Heartless. (Deduction!)
  3. Smashed the homie on a recording studio floor because she was “bored” with her relationship.  Poor Lawrence was at home figuring out how to get the Broken Pussy video ( remember how humiliated Molly felt during Issa’s performance) off the internet because now, the video was causing Issa to feel humiliated as it threatened to tarnish her reputation. Karma is so hilarious sometimes. (Girl Bye. Again. Deduction)

Basically, I don’t feel Issa treats the people who care about her very well. Kinda takes them for granted, until it’s too late.  And this is why she comes up short on the Cool Points Scorecard for me.

Now, let me circle back to my recap so I can hurry up and tell ya’ll know who else I think is kinda cool. Recap continued: We think the show will end there, with Issa looking all pathetic while staring at the blue polo. But nah. Lawrence wasn’t finished with us yet. As if telling Issa he missed her, giving her the impression he wanted to talk, having her race back home at 1:00am-ish to a Lawrence-less abode, leaving his keys on the counter and his shirt in the closet wasn’t enough, we’re left with the image of Lawrence blowing Miss Lady’s back out (like AAAAAALLLLL THE WAY OOOUUUTTT). Where in the world was Party Time Lawrence hiding ALL that time? (Questions that need answers.)

And while we’re discussing Miss Lady from the bank, I must say I think she’s kinda cool. Many deemed her a THOT and a homewrecker. That confused me. She was interested in Lawrence, saw some things Issa stopped seeing in him, provided pep talks and confidence boosters, had no idea he was involved, and stepped off when he told her what was up. Where is the THOT????  Please let me know because I couldn’t find one.   To be honest, I’m actually hoping he gives her a chance. No disrespect to Issa or anything but something tells me Tasha may be good for Lawrence. I could be wrong. I could be right. One thing is for certain, I’ll definitely be tuned in this season to see the goings on. All the goings on (in my Bernie Mac voice).

Lastly, is it just me or is EVERYBODY planning and/or attending an Insecure Watch Party? Sunday’s about to be LIT. Happy watching and we’ll be talking!

 

 

 

 

And Another One

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And another one, as in A-NO-THER relationship bites the dust. I couldn’t even play the I’m Just So Unlucky In Love, Maybe Someone Put A Halle Berry Curse On Me victim card either. Nope. Not this time. Instead, I was forced to be honest with myself. It’s funny (not really) how recycling similar experiences forces self-reflection and honesty. The hard truth is, although I go hard for whomever I’m rockin with, I sometimes kinda make fucked up choices when it comes to men. And that’s not to say that the men I’ve happened to fall for were total douchebags. They were, in fact, guys I enjoyed laughing and spending time with. Guys who’d buy me birthday gifts (but never flowers even though I really love flowers). Guys, who’d hang paintings, change the oil in my car, provide words of encouragement if I ever had work-place drama. Guys who met my family and introduced me to theirs’. They were guys who would look out for me.  They were also the kind of guys who’d become skittish when conversations about the future and our next steps arose. They were guys who preferred evading to communicating, withholding over sharing truths (I guess they just didn’t want to hurt my feelings which is ironic because they all ended up hurting…my fucking feelings). They were guys whose vision and values didn’t fully align with my vision and values. Guys, I’m certain loved me, liked me even, but guys who didn’t have the lenses needed to look at me and see magic. And that’s what made them, not bad guys, just fucked up, self-selected, selections for me.

This last guy was charming, sweet, survived a tough upbringing, goal oriented, and funny when he wasn’t being quiet or guarded. I so wanted to believe in him, to see only the good in him, to not hold past flaws against him. I also, if I’m being totally honest, wanted to scratch some shit off my to-do list:

1. Meet someone

2. Ditch Tinder

3. Get married in a couple of years

4. Move on to the next to-do item because I’m over all this trial and error, swipe left, swipe right nonsense

And that’s precisely where I fucked up. Trying to take shortcuts (like cohabitation), neglecting principles, making concessions, and overlooking clear signals all in the interest of hastiness. And although something told me this man may not have significant regard for the things I regarded significantly, I never suspected he’d cheat on me (total deal breaker).  But Life shall not be mocked. I paid for every neglected principle, every concession, and every shortcut. So as my friend tried to console me by saying, “You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault”, I wasn’t willing to let myself off the hook so easily. Something (like intuition) told me, I don’t really see this ending the way you’re hoping it’ll end. But I ignored it and forged ahead because I was older. Felt I had something to prove. Needed to worry about other things on my to do list. (Another lesson learned: Time will not be mocked. I vow to never try to force or rush another thing in my life.)

Now, something I love (love, love, love) about myself is this, while I still haven’t mastered selecting guys who are more aligned with who I am as a woman and while I’m respecting (valuing) the process of investing more time and effort on the front end of the selection process, walking away and refusing to look back after a relationship has run its course (say being cheated on or strung along or just totally disrespected) is no obstacle for me. It’s easy like Sunday morning. I’m like Nina Learn To Leave The Table When Love Is No Longer Being Served Simone in that regard. But my love goal isn’t to be The Breakup Queen or The Boy Bye Girl my entire life. It’s to apply these vital lessons (that seem to be on repeat), set myself up to win in love someday, and form and foster a dope ass friendship with someone who looks at me and sees magic. I understand there are no guarantees and you can do everything right and still be thrown a curveball but I’m committed (for real , for real this time) to doing everything in my power not to recycle the same old, tired experiences.

NOTE: I’ve seen cohabitation work very well for some and not so well for others. However, my spirit told me it wasn’t a good move for ME at the time. We all have unique journeys. With that being said, follow your heart in doing what feels right for you. Just felt the need to share that.