Stupid Ish Men Say

I’m over stupid ish that men say to muck up my head. A conversation with a guy I know took me back into the hard drive of my mind to a number of stupid comments that men have made to me over the years. I met this guy a few years ago. We had gone out a couple of times in the past, but that was it.

Flash forward. He reaches out to me and we reconnect. During the course of a conversation (in which he asked me to listen to what he had to say without speaking ), he told me, “You’re heavier than when I first met you. I guess that means there’s more of you to love.” Really? Was that supposed to be a compliment that he was willing to love me even if I was a fat girl? When he was done talking, I didn't give him the answer he was looking for, so he abruptly ended the conversation. And I was left with the “more of you to love” comment just dangling over my head. I knew I had gained weight. I didn’t need him to tell me. I sent him a text message, and he texted back that he was sorry and would call me and we could talk about it. I saw no need to talk; he said what he meant to say. And that’s my problem with some men. 

Over the years, men have said some things to me that made me scratch my head and wonder—why they were even talking to me? We like what we like, and if something is a deal breaker, then all bets are off. We can’t look at a person and see what we want to see instead of who they actually are. We can’t go into a relationship expecting them to change. But men seem to do it all the time. And they have absolutely no shame in sharing their vision of who a woman should be in their mind.

There are men who like their women bigger and men who like their women smaller. Some men like long hair, others short. Make-up, no make-up—the list goes on.  I want men to stop pursing women who don’t meet their qualifications. I was dating a guy who liked his women petite; I’m not. We had been dating for awhile when he said that he usually dated petite women to which I replied that I was used to dating big guys, so I guess we were both outside of our comfort zones. Another guy told me I needed to gain about 20 pounds. And the best one of all: a guy stalked me until I agreed to go out with him, only for him to tell me that I wasn’t that cute; I just had a dominating physical presence. I sat across from him in the restaurant thinking that he looked like a weasel. But I kept that to myself. First date; last date.

Then there is the hair—or lack of it. I’ve been wearing my hair natural for years. When I was wearing a fro, this guy told me I’d be perfect if I did something to my hair. When I went real short, I had two men  tell how much better I’d look with hair and when was I going to grow it back. Mind you that when I met both of them, my hair was super short and I wasn’t wearing a hat. I told one of them that if hadn’t been looking so hard at my booty, he might have noticed that I didn’t have much hair.  

Here’s the thing; I have preferences, too. I like well-built men. I like bald, short hair or locks. I don’t like overweight guys or braids. But I dated a guy who was overweight and one who had braids. They had other qualities that outweighed the things that I didn’t like. I never said, “Hey dude, you know you’d be really hot if you dropped 50 pounds.” Or “You’d be so much better looking if you stopped wearing braids.” "You know I really don't like the way your ears stick out from your head. Every guy who had something to say about me, I could have said something about him; I didn’t.

Self esteem fluctuates. And a man’s comments can send a woman’s self esteem plummeting if she’s already struggling. On a good day, I can flick the comments away. On a bad day, they sting. Sometimes they hurt like hell!  I’m learning to be perfect in my imperfections. I’m trying to feel good in my skin more days than not. And the truth is I like my short hair. I am a curvy woman. And if I’m not what a man wants, he needs to keep it moving. No more mucking up my head with the stupid ish they say.

I’m Better Than A Text Message

There were two, not one but two men vying for my attention. We spoke on the phone, and they sent cute “thinking of you text messages.” Initially, I smiled and responded. Then I’d see a message pop up on my phone, and that warm and fuzzy feeling turned cold. Because matter how many times we talked or texted, what I could not get between the two of them was any face time. None. Nada. Zero.

 These were men who marveled at the fact that I’m still single. These are men who are constantly telling me how wonderful I am, and yet they could never find time for even a cup of coffee or tea. My plate is full, and I get that many of us are often times juggling more than we feel like we can handle. But I also know this: We make time for the people and the thing that we want to make time for.

Looking back over my dating life, I remember men who were more interested in me than I was in them, and no matter what, they always found a way to reach out to me. When my level of interest didn’t match theirs, I always let them know. I never liked leading anyone on because I never liked being anyone’s default. These men taught me that a man who wants to spend time with you will find a way.

So, even though the two men vying for my attention claimed they wanted to get to know better and explore the possibilities of where we might go, the reality was I was not a priority. So, I had to let both of them know that I was moving on. I believe that men and women can and should be friends, so they’ve moved out of the romantic realm and into the friendship zone.

This is the generation of text messaging relationships. I have a friend who is younger, and she says that texting back and forth is one of the ways that she and her husband communicate. They fight and make-up sometimes via text messaging. That’s not for me.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m old school. I like good old-fashioned two-way communication.  Texting is fine later in the relationship, but it’s not the best way to begin a relationship. Texting leaves too much to miscommunicate.

I’m more mature now, and I’m going to date on my terms. It’s not that I’m inflexible. I’m open to something new and exciting. I’m open to someone who values me. And a man who values my time knows that I am better than a text message.

Parceling Pieces

I have a confession: I don't always know my worth. I want to believe that I love myself wholly, fully and unconditionally, and I believe I love myself more times than not, but there are times when my love for self falls short. So, I’ve decided to be intentional about loving myself.

  I love myself. I love myself. I love myself. This is my mantra. My goal is to say it until I believe it, until I live it, until I am it, so that when I say I love myself, I really mean I love me some me! And it’s not a conceited or selfish love but an authentic love that says I’m ok as I am flaws and all, and that I am a work in progress. This self love is a necessary love so that I am able to love others in the same way.

 Loving self is easier said than done because I allow outside factors to get in the way of loving who I am. I seek approval from family, friends, colleagues and the men I date.  And sometimes approval comes with a price. I have cut off pieces of myself shrinking into confined spaces to make others comfortable when what I needed to do was expand so that I busted out of anyone’s preconceived notions of who I should be. 

I've been trying to figure out when it how all begin—this parceling off pieces of myself to keep peace. I grew up in a house of strong, proud people. We were raised to believe that we were as good as anyone else. We didn't look down our noses at others and in no way did we take to others looking down on us. The youngest of seven, I was doted on. I got all that I needed and much of what I wanted. But that didn’t stop me from being a people pleaser. 

Who I’ve most wanted to please were men. Most people think I'm a smart, confident woman. And I have deluded myself into thinking the same. I prided myself on not allowing men I've dated to disrespect me, but I can't count the times I've disrespected myself in pursuit of a relationship. I wasn’t being verbally or physically abused, so what was I doing wrong? Settling for less than I deserved: giving second and third chances when he didn't deserve the first; trying to prove to him that I'm a good catch; staying when I should have left. 

For the last decade I've been single longer than I've been coupled. And I’m using this time to reflect on lessons learned and to love myself in the ways I want to be loved. For me, that has meant figuring out what does it mean to me to show love. How can I expect a man to love me better than I love myself? He won't. Loving myself in a world that doesn't always love me back isn't easy. Some days I nail it. Other days, I don’t. But that doesn't mean that I shouldn't keep trying until I get it right. It's never too late to start anew.    

So, during this single season in my life, I’m learning to fall in love with myself.  To help me, I ask myself:  What did you do to show love today?  I cannot expect anyone to love me more than I love myself. Here are seven ways that I show love to myself so, I’ll be ready for love when it comes around again.

1. I focus on eating healthy more times than not. I don’t worry about what I can’t eat. I focus on what’s good for me. So, every day I aim for fruits and vegetables.
2. I spend time alone. If I don’t enjoying my own company, I’ll be lonely with a mate.  While spending time with me I write, listen to music or read.
3. I spend time with people whose company I enjoy; I love a good stimulating conversation.
4. I find pleasure in simple things like coloring, blowing bubbles or bubble baths.
5. I take myself out—to eat, see a movie, go to the theater.
6. I dance!
7. I sit down at the dining room table and eat out of the good dishes.

Feel free to borrow, and share how you show love in the comments section. Thanks for reading.

Traingles - Part 2

1.       triangle  - noun – a group of three; triad (dictionary.com)

2.       triangling – verb – to form a triangle (my own created word)

3.        

This picture has been circulating on social media. I read a caption that said: Learning to be a player early punctuated by a smiley face emoticon. Some think it’s cute; not me.

A triangle has three sides. For the purpose of this blog, a triangle is three people involved in a relationship. Now, I don’t think that the children in this photo are in any type of “relationship”, but I do think that this picture speaks volumes on how we view relationships.  The actions are indicative of what these children may do when they are old enough to date and/or marry. We are teaching children early that triangling is ok.

The little boy is situated between two girls. One of the girls has her arm possessively wrapped around him. The message is clear: He’s mine! Her back is to the other little girl, so she doesn’t even know that he is in a sense “playing her” because he’s not really all hers. The second little girl is content to hold his hand--to just be in the picture somewhere. 

We teach boys how play between girls, and we support them. We lie and cover for them all the time. I know a woman who was dating a man. He took her to meet his father. Her guy said he and his father shared a house. One day, her guy dropped his checkbook in her car. When she looked at it, it had a man and woman’s name on it. She couldn’t believe that he was married, so she did a drive-by and found out that not only was he married, his wife was also pregnant. Why did the father lie for his son? The father claimed that he could see how much his son cared for this woman.

The second little girl is a side chick in training. I’ve said it a thousand times; sometimes the side chick gets put on blast unfairly. We teach them how to settle for second place and then we get mad when they do! I know women who tell their daughters and granddaughters that unless he’s married, no man is off limits. It doesn’t matter if he’s engaged or living with a woman, unless he’s said, I do, he’s fair game. This really makes me scratch my head because if he can’t be in a committed relationship before he ties the knot, how is he expected to do so once he gets married? How does a marriage license change behavior? I thought practice makes better. 

And then there are those who think that to have a piece of man is better than to have no man at all. I’ve heard women say that there’s always one going out as another one is coming in, so it stands to reason that at some point, a woman is either going to be the one being cheated on or the one being cheated with. Is monogamy even realistic?

What’s problematic about the implications in this picture is that it encourages possessive and deceptive behaviors—neither of which are healthy. Triangling always goes bad because someone gets hurt—mentally, emotionally and/or physically. Sometimes triangles are deadly. I am still disturbed by a news story that happened a couple of years ago in Georgia.  A man was having an affair with a woman. When the mistress found out that he was taking his wife on a trip, the mistress showed up at the house and kidnapped the wife at gun point. The mistress killed the wife and then turned the gun on herself.

A female who thinks a male belongs to her will stop at nothing to keep anyone from getting what she has because she has claimed ownership. (I know the same things applies to males, but we’re talking about women right now) A woman thinks that the paper, the baby, the fact that they live together, great sex or empty promises means that he belongs to her. Confronting another woman doesn’t change his behavior. 

To be honest, I have don’t have answers to any of the questions I’ve raised. I’m trying to understand why we claim to hate triangling yet we encourage men and women to form these triads. Are love triangles par for the course? Do you think we encourage these types of relationships? What did you hear growing up that supported the idea of shared relationships? Share your thoughts in the comment section.

Kizomba and the Single Life-Part 2

I was listening to a Kizomba CD on the way to work this week. I like the music because it’s soothing and hypnotic, and it allows the rhythms to marinate in my mind in between classes so that I can become more in tuned with the music and the dance. I did the same thing when I was learning belly dance. You would have thought I was from the Middle East as much Arabic music as I played.

I'm riding along and listening, and I begin reflecting on Monday night’s class. It was both fun and frustrating. Fun because the ladies in the class are hilarious. The camaraderie is good, so we joke and tease.  On Monday everybody was a bit subdued. Maybe it had something to do with the time change. Class starts at 8:00 pm, but I think our bodies were still in the 9:00 o’clock time slot.  Some of us were a bit challenged by the combination, and there were only two guys, so we kept going out of order, blaming the guys for messing up, and making faces.

We all have to dance with the instructor at some point, but I usually get to try it out a few times before it’s my turn. Not this time! One of the two guys, was Ken—the instructor. When it was my turn, I wasn’t feeling the combination. Something was off for me, and I was kicking myself because had been doing so well a couple of weeks prior. I felt like I was getting the hang of it, and Annet, the other instructor noticed, too and told me so. So, I was feeling pretty good—until Monday. I kept messing up, and nobody wants to get it wrong in front of the teacher!  Ken kept reminding me not to anticipate, and he told me not to help. I never did quite get the hang of that combination, but I left there with some reflections on dancing, relationships and life.

1. Trust is not given; it’s earned.  Trust your partner. That’s what I keep hearing, but on or off the dance floor, my partner needs to know that I will not follow him blindly. He doesn’t have to execute the steps perfectly, but I need to know that he won’t bail on me. No matter what we’re working on, one guy always says “We got this,” before we even start. And we may get it right, or we may not, but I know that as my partner, he’s got me.

2. it’s hard to be led by someone who doesn’t trust himself.  We’re in the class learning together, but some of the guys are so intent on getting it right, that they don’t allow room for error. If you mess up, so what? We’re going to do it again. If my partner doesn’t trust himself, why should I trust him? If I have to follow, my partner has to lead.

3. Be me. Everyone else is taken. There are people in the class who dance well.  I enjoy watching them dance, so I look to them for guidance and direction. I don’t want to be a carbon copy of them no matter how well they dance. I can take pointers, but I must ultimately find my own way and it will be at my pace, and that’s ok.

4. Put my cape away. Yep, that I'm independent woman likes to show up to class, too even when I try to tell her she’s staying home for the evening. I love her to life, but this is the one time I need for her to take a seat.  I need to learn to follow, as Clarence, one of the instructors likes to remind follows, submit, submit, submit. Not in a 50 Shades of Grey type of way, but to allows my partner to lead me through this dance. This brings me to my final point.

5. Relax! Woo sa, woo sa.  It’s a dance class. If I knew what I was doing, I wouldn’t be here. Some things will come easier than others, and when I don’t get it, there’s always the next class.

These lessons come in handy on the dance floor and in life. Until the next time, happy dancing!