Reasons I Can’t Sit My Ass Down

I’ont know if marriage is my high calling. I’m just going to be honest with myself. The mere thought makes me shudder. I look around at my friends that are married with kids and can’t think of a single thing I want to do less. But I’d like to chill out… maybe be in a relationship (Read: Have more regular secks, since I don’t have any cut friends anymore *sigh*). Here’s the shit that trips me up in dating:

  1. I’m a guy on the inside. No, no. I’m not the trash ass Steve Harvey’s “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man,” girl/guy. My NATURAL instincts operate like a dude. Ego and all. Most of the guys I have dated confirm this, as do my friends. I CAN be “pink” and girly, but THAT’S what requires effort. I’m a mess.
  2. Making someone else my priority. Like. I want to do better with this. And I try sometimes. But when I’m living the slash/slash life, I can’t drop everything I’M doing to make a guy feel important.
    1. a- spontaneity is no longer a thing for me, unless I’m really interested. I have shit to do.
  3. I like to juggle *snickers.* What can I say?!?! I like variety. I usually end up dating a couple different guys for their strong suits. And when the negatives pop up, I just go to the next one until the previous one has a chance to chill. Ultimately make my dream guy out of any number of suitors (which also leads me to question monogamy… another post for another day)
  4. I’m super free spirited [Read: commitment-phobic]. That often means moving or traveling. A relationship [usually] requires some form of settling down and committing to a place and person. I’m not about that life.
  5. I’m “meh” on kids. I think most people settle down because they want children. With that off that table, what’s the rush?!?!

Everyone told me I’d change my mind when I was older. 28 they said. I’m 30. Whatever switch that makes most women want to sit down… I must aint get one. I’m going to have to find another wild thing and we can run off and be wild together.

Arranged in Real Life

If you follow us on twitter, you know I’m obsessed with these shows about arranged marriage. FYI has all of my attention for the second season of “Married At First Sight” and the first season of “Arranged.” I was a psychology major in college and have since found myself fascinated by relationships in general, and “alternative” relationships specifically.  I remember discussing arranged marriages and even dating online, then in its infancy, working because it is based on compatibility, not the warm fuzzies.  Even with all this in mind, I’ve never been much into online dating. I know many people for whom it has been successful, but I don’t have the time or energy to commit to vetting potentials.

Enter my coworkers. My job is such that you get to know coworkers pretty well thanks to open work spaces. My coworker, Tee, began to recount the numerous yummy black men she encounters doing random shit like walking her dog. Jokingly, I sent her a picture along with a request to show it to these attractive men and give them my number. Two other coworkers, chimed in with potential matches for me. Then I thought “Oh shit… this could be a thing!” As a girl who hates dating, it was perfect. That was about a year ago. And I’m still taking Arranged dates:

One coworker, Lee, hooked me up with her homeboy. He’s an incredibly dope guy, we just didn’t have “that” kind of chemistry. And after an incredibly awkward double date (I thought it was just hanging out with friends), I knew it wouldn’t work.

Another former coworker, Emily, found a guy was perfect for me. He was physically what I like and very intelligent. That lasted for a while in my world. He turned out to be a bit of a jackass, and kinda insecure around my ambition. So it didn’t work out but damn if she didn’t peg me right.

I’m 99% sure the guy she sent me the other night won’t work out because of his nationality and profession, but I’mma give it a whirl.

Emily, now a good friend, has also tried to hook me up with her now brother and cousin in law. I was good on that. Now I think she’s just talking to random black men at bars on my behalf, and I’m ok with it!! You need a good white Judy that wants you sitting down with her married ass.

Tee stopped a guy in the work elevator to show a guy my picture and get his card. I kinda wish she had given him my number. I’m terrible at reaching out first. I haven’t done so yet and it’s been a few weeks. Maybe I’ll get the gall up this week.

Lee has another for me but is disappointed that I wasted Tee’s find. So maybe I will contact him just so I can meet Lee’s other friend. Also Tee claims to see a lot of hot guys in her neighborhood. The only thing that’s a bit risky is some white girls have the “both of yall are black… you should like each other” sort of thinking. Meh. I guess these are the risks you take dating this way…


Men “Love” Women Who Hustle

It’s all fun and games until you have to make sacrifices.

Being a part time entrepreneur (working my way to full time) with a day job is the most challenging experience of my 30 years on this Earth. Add dating to the mix and you pretty much have a shit show. It’s been pretty exhausting to say the least.

It’s funny because I like to date guys who are similarly situated. You know – entrepreneural, driven, those type. They’re usually pretty impressed with my drive, that’s until it gets in their way When I say I’m working, but I’m not at an office – problem. When I’m unavailable for their whims on their days off – problem. I’m struggling to find the balance between what I need to do and making time to be social. Not to mention the guilt threshold – you know the point at which your well deserved turns too fun and you remember the mountain of work that awaits you.

The bottom line is being an entrepreneur is a whole other experience, especially when it’s not full time. It’s not a 9-5 and it can be difficult to explain why Sunday simultaneously is and is not an off day for me. How I can be home and busy working at the same time. Why I treat what looks like a hobby like a job. It’s not difficult to find a guy who claims to understand, but harder to find one who actually does. 


So I’m trying to live right, a high calling to which I’ve not always ascribed. Trying to let old shit go, and generally get the fuck on with my life. But of course, it’s never quite that easy. I hadn’t talked to my Big in a few months and had been happy to skip along into new shit. THEN the ever busy devil brought him back to my doorstep. I knew he would. He always does. I was awaiting his arrival, but he didn’t seem to be coming. But THE SECOND I let my guard down, up he showed. Maybe it was an isolated occurrence… I don’t know. The one thing of which I’m 1000% sure – I’m not in the damn mood.

Why I’m Not Married Yet…Patterns and Shit

Recognizing patterns within yourself can be eye opening when you’re somewhat completely oblivious to your own behavior. The other day I watched Tracy McMillan on Own talking about dating and marriage and why so many women weren’t married yet. She made some really good points, none of which were new to me per se but just said in a way that related to the conversations I’ve had with girlfriends over the last few years. After I watching  the interview I decided to read the blog post that started that started it all (Why You’re Not Married Yet and ordered her book, Why You’re Not Married Yet: The Straight Talk You Need To Get The Relationship You Deserve.


After the interview I started thinking about my own dating and relationship woes and whether or not I even want to be married in the first damn place. Tracy say’s to just admit it, you want to be married, so for the sake of not lying to myself I’m willing to admit that yes there are times that I think I want to be married but I am no where near marriage material at this stage in my life. But to be really honest I’m not all that certain as to what exactly marriage material is in the first place. I can’t say that it’s because I didn’t have good role models and all that deep psycho babel, because that could partially be the case, but truth be told my parents were committed to one another for the majority of my life and they legally married when I was about fourteen. Their relationship seemed like a functional one although void of emotional expressiveness from my vantage point as a child, they seemed to get along ok. I would say that I was more so oblivious to their relationship primarily because I don’t recall paying much attention to their interactions. I wasn’t the most self involved child but I do recall being left alone a lot so when your by yourself all the time you don’t have to think about anyone else but you so that’s mostly what I did; think about what I wanted, what I liked, and what would work best for me.


I liked being alone because it gave me a sense of independence which is no different in my adult life, I’m alone now but I’m not lonely. So the idea of marriage to me is like a fairytale, something that happens for other people but not necessarily for me. Someone asked once if I really wanted to get married and if I actually wanted to have children, my first response was yes of course, but now that I’m in my thirties and really thinking about this marriage shit I’m beginning to wonder. In theory it sounds good and the friends I have who are newly married and happy make marriage look all sugary sweet and what not but I don’t know. I’m starting to think I’m becoming anti-marriage because I’ve been single for so long and have become accustomed to my independence and the freedom that goes along with it. I’m sure the skeptics will read this and say “oh she’s just bitter” or “she’s just saying that because she thinks she’ll never get married”, truth is I’m not bitter and I do sometimes feel like I’ll never be married but that goes back to my last statement about being free and independent. Marriage sounds good in theory but maybe it’s just not meant for me or maybe I just haven’t found the man who’s meant for me and I for him, shit who knows but at this point I’m content with working on myself and getting me together. The beauty about life is that we have time to decide what we want right? I won’t rule out the option out because any thing is possible!!

Married at First Sight: The Melanin Free Edition

Chile between my phone ringing (which NEVER happens) and TV, this turned into a midnight / insomniac post, but I’M HERE!!! I have a few words for the folks over at “Married at First Sight,” and they start with… How dare you…

When I saw the previews for this season I was immediately struck by the fact that they didn’t have any black people. After watching the matching special, I came to respect that they included diversity, but not black. I can live with that. They were looking to cross both ethnic and religious lines, and even included a single parent in the mix for an interesting experience. Cool. That was until I got to the end…

The experts were looking to match a sort of free spirited, part time college, part time work, not really interested in monetary wealth, black man who was specifically looking to marry a black women. Of the black women in the pool, the experts said:

“when i look at the African American women in our pool of eligibles, each one of them is highly professionally accomplished and requests a man that is at least her equal. I think they would really be disappointed in us if we gave them someone who was so unfinished at this point in his life”

I was immediately irritated as fuck for a litany of reasons.

  1. First of all, they made it seem like the black women were the problem, just too educated, too established, not this man who couldn’t pull it together. Like, how DARE black women want an equal. They found an equal for Jamie’s fucked up ass. They found equals for young ass Jason and Courtney. But NOW its an issue to want an equal… now it’s a problem.
  2. They picked THE MOST obscure black man to try to match. It was like they just threw him out there to keep the blacks happy… on some “look… we tried.” Not the black professional, or military man, or entrepreneur. They picked the jobless, free spirited ass black man with not a single bless-ed thing to bring to the table. Like a job is too damn much to ask. Way to go on perpetuating the “yall too educated” / “yall too choosy… take what you can get” / “any black man > all the educated fine ass black women” narrative. Patriarchy is so damn real out here.
  3. WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO MATCH A MAN THAT IS NOT THE FUCK TOGETHER?!?!?! If anything, they should have been moving mountains to match an amazing black woman to an equally amazing man.   I mean they wiped out an ENTIRE pool of beautiful, intelligent woman because one man was raggedy as fuck. How are we really here?!??!
  4. Black women really went up for this show last season. I remember live tweeting the first season and being struck by the OVERWHELMING number of black women watching this show. So to dismiss us as a whole because “too difficult?!?!”
  5. They have YET to really address racial nuances. There is a BIG difference in the way black people date and, in my experience, most other races. Not to mention our “unique” history in this country. The experts have YET to acknowledge that THEY missed the boat on some necessary cultural cues with Vaughn and Monet. They brought in a sex therapist, a chaplain, and everyone else but not a single therapist of color to speak to those issues. They literally just said black women are too hard so strike ALLUVEM! I don’t go to white hair stylists or dermatologists because some shit they just don’t get. *EYE* don’t believe they are going to successfully match a black couple without having a black expert to navigate cultural minefields.
  6. I noticed that of all the people that discussed “interracial” relationships on camera, none of them mentioned that they dated black. You mean to tell me not ONE of the white men was looking for a pretty black woman with natural hair… they love us. Not even the women mentioned liking black men, which is especially odd.

Honestly, I loved the show first season. And I really want to care this season. But, I’m annoyed. It seems like they pulled out all the stops to get black people the fuck on. I don’t know if it’s because Vaughn and Monet didn’t work out so they are trying to get 3/3 this season (see #5 above). Either way, I don’t like it. I’ll likely tune in at some point. But they need to fix this shit when they do the experiment in Atlanta. I’m so serious. They would be hard pressed to do Married at First Sight in Atlanta without black people. GET IT TOGETHER FOLKS!!

You, Sir, are a “Claire Huxtable” Lie

Its funny that if you ask nearly any well educated black man about their dream wife, Claire Huxtable, or her modern counterpoint Michelle Obama, would find its way into his description. I’m always amused by this description. Not just because of their lack of Cliff/Barak-ness, but because of its idealistic qualities. Lets just break down the reality of the Huxtable residence.

Yes Claire was definitely a ride or die… she stuck with Cliff when he was in med school, and he while she was in law school. But Claire also confesses to having molded Cliff over the years, and we KNOW how much men love that.

Claire was as much a nag as any other woman. She watched Cliff’s diet like a hawk. Even snatching food from his very grasp.

But what I loved most about Claire’s realness is when it came to how she mothered the children. She was loving but FIRM. Some of the fights between she and Vanessa were downright legendary, to the point of making it on my DVR. When Robert and Vanessa stayed out past curfew and Vanessa yelled down the stairs to see if he was ok. Claire yelled back up with as much force as my mother when we argued.

Their child rearing struggle resulted in a Princeton grad who opened a pet store, Denise – enough said, annoying ass Vanessa and we never know what became of Rudy. Of ALL the children that made a REAL something of themselves, it was left to Theo… thats right crazy ass Theo. All this to say, the Huxtable residence was not the haven of success, but a revolving door of failure and struggle. Do yall really want that for your household gentlemen?

Cliff and Claire’s relationship was a partnership. I remember him being in the kitchen as much as she. Many times when he was at home and SHE would come home with the briefcase. In many scenes she was seen working on files at her home desk. Cliff dealt with as many parenting struggles as she. He cared for Rudy when she was sick. Stayed at home with the kids when Claire was away on business. Helped with homework. And the list goes on.

All this to say, Claire was not perfect. She was far from it. And we are far closer to Claires than our male suitors would like to admit. And even if the myth of Claire’s perfection had a thread of truth, its because she was well supported by her husband, not that she herself was super woman.

Let It Go

I’ve been watching Being Mary Jane, not because I particularly enjoy it, but because I felt black girl code dictated that I support a show with a black woman as the lead and executive producer. And because I like to be one with my Twitter feed. I’d largely written MJ off as a continuation of Mara Brock Akil’s Joan Clayton, albeit more desperate and more neurotic. MJ is what Joan likely would have become.


Last week, I asked my timeline if they really liked the show because it usually left me feeling depressed. A few of my followers echoed my sentiments, while my friends stated that they liked it because they felt it was real. MJ said the things we didn’t, couldn’t say aloud. I still wasn’t sold. I thought, and still think, the show lacks the levity and support of good girlfriends and GBFFs that gets us through.

But then shit got real. Last night, MJ turned a corner. Where she had been weak before, succumbing to exes and love at ANY cost, she was finally strong in the moment when she needed her. I respected her. She turned down the advances of the love of her life because their love was no longer important. Because MJ needed more. She needed to be more than just a person that filled in the blanks, a person that picked up the pieces and sent him back home to his girlfriend while she was left to face her own brokenness.

I’ve been there. MJ voiced me. All the things I wrote because I couldn’t say them. All the times I didn’t call him. All the times I didn’t take the opening. All the times I opted to be alone rather than begin the cycle again. All the times I chose me. I still have to make that decision on a daily basis and it’s not always easy.

Then Laura Mvula’s Sing to the Moon played. That song, that album will get you through some shit. It was a perfect moment of me-ness, to include the much needed romp with a cut friend to take the edge off. For once I got it. I understood Mary Jane.


Culture of Sexting Frien-enemies

When did we become this culture of sexting frien-enemies? Like grown people, I’m talking late twenties and up don’t have real communication with the opposite sex anymore it’s all text message conversations and rendezvous for sex but no intimacy, no courtship, no respectability, no dates, no breaking of bread, no nothing! And I’ll be honest with you I’ve been guilty of this foolishness too! So I’m wondering what fuck happened to our society? I posed the question via our @MoreBougieThanYou on Instagram a few weeks back wondering if this shit was the new normal, that’s what the majority of my friends both male and female are telling me. The “new adults” living in this day and age of the got to have everything now era have seemingly lost site of the virtue of getting to know someone new and appreciating their nuances with care and patience, its like everyone is in such a damn hurry to move on to the next damn step that we rush into relationships half dressed, shirts on but no shoes, bras but no panties and so on…you get the point. I find it hard to believe that we’re all so busy that we can’t slow down long enough to stop and smell the roses. I’m feeling like people are just too lazy to tell the damn truth! If you’re not interested then what’s the harm in letting someone know that so that he or she can move on stop the sexting frien-enemy bullshit.

And the gift that is Amanda Seales!!!!