Chemistry

I just read on a blog about the 20^th anniversary of the author’s first date with her husband.  Her memory is GOOD!  Of course I went “awww” because that is what punks do.  She made me think about my dates with some dudes I’ve gone out with and I realized that some of them didn’t really feel like “dates”.

When I was growing up, a date – to me anyway – meant that the dude picked you up.  You know, drove his mama’s car to your house, rang the doorbell, said hi to your parents if they were in the living room (you know that is the only room he could go in), and escorted you to the car.  No, it wasn’t romantic; it was just polite.  But in this day and age, we’re so afraid to let men know the location of the secret bat cave to make sure he can’t find you if you decide you don’t like him (just me?) that we miss out on the “get out the car, ring the doorbell, he drives, walks you to your door and leaves” part of dating.  I miss that.  Something about meeting a guy somewhere takes 0.5 points off the date score…unless he’s scary and then it is a positive.  Opening doors and helping you in and out of the car adds at least 2 points.  And walking to the door really, really adds some points.  How else can you get that good night kiss?  (But what if there is no chemistry and he tries to kiss you? Well, you can fake a sneeze or something….)

You know almost from day one if you will have “that kind” of chemistry with the dude, right?

·        Dude brings you flowers and, though you are appreciative, you are sitting here thinking “not going to happen”.  Straight-to-the-friend-zone chemistry.

·        You are sitting next to the dude and after about 30 minutes you want to lace your fingers through his…and after a week you feel like it’s okay to lay on his chest in the movies.  (Shut up, I didn’t molest him.  We just both like to cuddle.)  Are-you-sure-we-just-met chemistry.

·        You want to slap the black of dude after about 22 minutes because by then he had already asked you when the last time you’d been on a date and pointed out the acne on your chest…and you wanted to mention the missing tooth he had…but didn’t because you were raised right.  STFU-because-you-about-to-get-shanked chemistry.

·        Dude asks you for a second hug just because and you think “you can have anything you want”.  (Get your mind right.  I’m not that fast!!)  Ooooh-this-might-be-good chemistry.

·        When you kiss him your mind goes blank…after you think “why did you do that to me?  You ain’t right.”  Steam-the-polish-right-off-your-toes chemistry.

·        He hands you the check as he reminds you that he took you out the last time.  Oh-no-you-didn’t chemistry.

·        You have to ask him if you can pick up the check because you’re afraid he will slap your hand off if you reached for the folder.  I-know-you’re-the-man-but-I-want-to-treat-you-sometimes chemistry.

·        You have to remember your home training because you just want to touch him at all times.  (His HANDS!)  You-know-you-need-to-stop chemistry.

·        Your first phone conversation is 3 hours long and you think you’re going to Love him…and 2 years later you still do….And many years later you still love (small L) him. My-first-but-not-last-love chemistry.

·        He spoons with you in the bed (fully clothed) and wraps you tight and you feel safe and you think “if you move I’ll kill you”.  Comfortable-because-I-trust-you-completely chemistry and you’re-a-man-among-boys chemistry.

Chemistry cannot be ignored…positive or negative.  Chemistry can grow and fade; that is why it is essential to pay attention every day for how you are feeling about someone you’re dating.  Your gut doesn’t lie.  My therapist once told me that if you don’t want to see a man nekkid, you might as well cut him now. Sounds harsh but it’s the truth, right?

Need A Man Right Now

My mother has been sick for the last few weeks.  Actually she has had several hospital stays since October.  I get stressed out because I’m 6 hours away and can’t get to her when I want to.  The truth is, this last time, I was scared to see her.  She was in ICU and on a ventilator.  The visual I got was probably not as bad as the in-person sight, but what I envisioned was horrifying enough.

It’s times like these I hate not having a man in my life.  I wish I had someone that really Loves me that I can tell how scared I was that I might lose my mother.  How angry I was at the doctors because I don’t think they have been treating my mother’s condition as aggressively as I think they should.  (But I did not have a class in cardiology in my engineering curriculum so I may be wrong.)  How concerned I am that my mother is not doing what she is supposed to be doing to stay well.  How nervous I get every time the phone rings.

But I don’t and my girls aren’t the same as a man (sorry ladies).

My girls don’t hold my hand and make me feel secure.  Don’t hold me tight and tell me it will be okay…and, if only for a minute, I believe that they can make it so.  Don’t let me talk about it in every conversation; I’m sure I could but I’d feel funny. Won’t rub my shoulders and back until all my tension is gone and I’m back to normal again.  Can’t (and, thankfully, won’t try to) rub on my booty (what, sometimes that’s what you need to get by!).

(I have to give my girls some credit though.  I have some PRAYING friends!  I know their prayers have gotten me and Mama over the hump every time…and they are on the case right now.)

Oh well, I’m single and I have to deal with it.  It’s not the end of the world.  Plus, I’m about to start meeting with a new therapist in a few weeks so I’ll have another source of support.  And hey, I always have my fingers and a laptop and can write it all out.  (Yall should see the stuff I DON’T post! LOL)

The List

I believe every single woman and man has compiled a list of attributes for his or her ideal mate.  I was talking to this gent that I met and he was saying that, as a Black man in Atlanta, he is able to be a little more specific in his wants and needs than women are because basically he has more options.  (Weaves are a hell no.)  He’s telling the truth.  There are plenty beautiful, successful, and available Black women in Atlanta that want to settle down.  There are less of the same in Black men.  Sucks for me.  Anyway, after discussing some basic requirements, I thought “where is my list?” so I had to go look for it. 

Can you believe the last list I wrote was in 2007?  Well, here it is in no particular order:

Christian, compassionate, affectionate, attractive, communicative, gainfully employed (can work for self), emotionally intimate, physically/sexually compatible, more organized than I am, understanding, honest, patient, like to improve himself, encouraging, has his own friends, can compromise/be flexible, generous, have discernment, can love and accept love, kind, accepts me, wants children, wants to marry (somebody even if it is not me), love to read, can or at least will dance, FAITHFUL

In 2012 the list is still valid, even though some of them – like love to read and can dance – are no longer requirements.  I would add a few more things:

Makes me feel safe emotionally, physically, and financially; is taller than me; not judgmental of me; considers me an equal partner in the relationship; makes me a priority in his life; trusts me; is trustworthy; accepts my relationship to my family; understands my need for “me” time; is honest about his needs; has a sense of humor

Thinking back to the boys and men that I have loved, Loved, and “thought it was Love until I figured out it was bullshit”, I see many qualifications have been met but so many things have been missing and I’ve excused them as no big deal.  WTH?  ME with a man who is not affectionate means that I will be miserable.  (Been there.)  Me with a man that I do not feel emotionally safe with means I will always be on edge, leading to much unhappiness.  (Been there.)  Me with a man who makes me an option rather than a priority… yep, more unhappiness.  (Been there.)  Been there with men whose judgment I always feared.  Been there with men I couldn’t be honest with for fear of rocking the boat or starting trouble.  Now, don’t get me wrong…these same men would probably say that I limited myself, that they would have welcomed my opinions, which may actually be true.  I just didn’t know how to say anything I was feeling.  That’s always a big problem of mine…not being able to articulate what I am thinking and feeling in the moment.  I know I will not have a successful relationship unless and until I am able to do so.  So I will keep trying…

Wonderfully and Beautifully Flawed

I got an email the other day from one of my favorite Sorors and it spoke of all the beautiful things about being a woman…our strengths, our talents, what we have to offer our friends and families.  It made me smile and say “yes, that’s me.  I am that woman.”  I was pretty proud…until I got to the end of the email.  See, after lifting us up, the email pointed out a woman’s biggest flaw – that she does not know, recognize, or acknowledge (or make others acknowledge) her worth.  I cringed and said “yes, that’s me.  I am that woman.” 

I’ve undervalued myself for so long that I don’t know what my true value is.

Now, that sounds a lot deeper than I really meant to go when I sat down to write.  I meant to discuss insecurity and how it impacts relationships – both platonic and relationships – but clearly my mind has moved me to a different place…and it is not on the work I’m supposed to be doing right now.  So…

I used to say that I am wonderfully and beautifully flawed.  I liked the way that sounded.  It acknowledged that I had flaws but it also acknowledged that I was still wonderful and beautiful.  But there are many times where the “wonderful” and “beautiful” are overshadowed by the “flawed”.  What is greatest in our minds gets the most attention and negative self-talk is a constant battle for me.  I am in a continuous fight with “flawed”.

Finding what is wrong with me is a bad habit…especially when I’m looking for and at things no one else can see…or cares about if they do catch a glimpse of.  I think that is a result of my upbringing – if only you knew – and my years (YEARS!) of therapy.  When you’re always “working” on something it’s hard to feel fully comfortable and confident in “you”.  Clearly who you are right this second is not quite right.  You’re not your best “you”.  (Just so you know…word is I’m needy, not emotionally intimate, angry, and passive-aggressive.)

(Can I just say this?  Sometimes I HATED therapy.  I would feel worse about myself in that room than in any other space on the planet.  There were plenty times I wanted to tell my therapist to bite my butt. (Guess I am angry.) I have things that could be improved but I have LOTS of things that are right with me, too, dammit.  /rant over)

I’m nowhere near perfect but I am a good person.  I’m intelligent and successful.  I am kind.  I am loving and affectionate and have a lot to offer in relationships – platonic, familial, and romantic.  I am learning how to receive and let people be nice to me.  I am learning that I’m okay as I am right now…wonderfully and beautifully flawed.

And whoever doesn’t think so can bite my butt.

He Is Not "Him"

A friend of mine put something on FaceBook that was very interesting:  “one day he’s going to realize that SHE is not YOU.”  It was pretty funny how we women were virtually high-fiving each other in the comments.  I know I laughed. 

Later I thought of the converse, in a good brother’s voice:  “one day she’s going to realized that I am not HIM”.  The one that you thought was love but realized it was bullshit.  The one that makes you frown your face up when you think of him.  Or maybe thinking of him makes you sad, makes you cry, because HE just wasn’t the right “he” for you and it hurt (or still hurts) to admit it.  You know that dude.

He’s the dude that is an Atlanta Falcons fan when you are a fan of the Super Bowl-winning, 13 and 3 again, New Orleans Saints.

He does not recognize the record-breaking Drew Brees’ dominance and may even cry when the Saints win.  (Punk ass!)

He doesn’t understand your need for “me” time.

He doesn’t shave or cut his hair unless he’s going out with his friends.  (I guess a little rug burn on the face doesn’t hurt.  /eye roll/)

He is allergic to the concept of commitment.

He has no friends outside of you and gets whiny when you don’t want to spend all your time with him.

He calls, emails, and texts inconsistently.

He visits for a little while just for a little ass.

He chooses time with his friends over time with you.  (Don’t forget the conversation we had about options vs. priorities!)

He is your baby daddy but you have to remind him that his responsibilities extend beyond paying child support.

He denies you your basic desire for affection and attention.

He lies every time he opens his mouth.

He makes plans but does not follow through.

He says he loves you but you can’t see much evidence of it in his actions.  And it hurts bad when you think about it.

He would give you more attention if you had ESPN streaming across your ass.

He’s the one that makes you scared to get out there and try love again.

We all have a “him”…or many of them.  I do.  I get angry and I might even cry when I think how at one time I was singing “I love me some him” and now shake my head at what I did or accepted.

I’ve talked about holding grudges before and having all kinds of naughty revenge dreams but the truth is I’m not really that evil.  The goal in 2012 is to focus on positivity in relationships and to say to hell with those that hurt me in the past.  I need focus on meeting the one that will erase the “him”s.  The one that’s going to take me off the market.  I need open up to new men AND to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Not assume that he won’t do right or act right.  Be cautiously optimistic, focusing on optimism.  Stop focusing on what can go wrong and enjoy what is going right. 

I’m feeling optimistic already.  I’ll keep you posted.

Comfortable In My Own Skin

I have someone in my life that is rather – how do you say it? – unkempt.  Bathes irregularly, brushes teeth occasionally, shaves arbitrarily…. Hell no, you say.  Right.  One thing I think is depression, another is low self esteem (even though that dude is HANDSOME), and yet another “I don’t give a shit”.  But a big thing is “you know how I do it”.  Yeah, I’d say “I don’t give a shit” and “you know how I do it” are the two he’d cop to.  And to be honest, I’ve been there.

I’ve always been a casual girl…jeans, Chucks, tank tops, and ponytail was the standard.  And “that’s how I do it” was the standard attitude.  “Love me for me” was my motto.  Seeing as I’m still single, that didn’t work out for me.

I don’t think it was the look, per se, even though all my girlfriends dressed WAY better than I did, but I think it was the attitude that probably read as “I don’t give a shit what you think”.  In my mind, I was portraying confidence in myself.  That I felt comfortable being the casual one.  That I didn’t have to dress like everyone else to feel good about myself.  That I didn’t want anyone to judge me by how I looked on the outside, but how I was on the inside.  That I loved me for me.  It wasn’t until a friend’s husband suggested to me that I was trying to hide myself and make sure no one noticed me that I thought maybe my strategy was not so good.  Maybe I was garnering negative attention rather than props for being comfortable in my own skin. 

Truth be told, I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin.  I DID feel inadequate compared to my friends.  Felt like the ugly friend.  I just didn’t know what to do to make a change without changing who I was.  I AM casual. I LOVE jeans and Chucks.  But I also love to get my hair done.  I love to wear dresses and sandals and lip gloss and eye shadow.  I love to look at myself in the mirror and think I look pretty. 

Don’t get me wrong, I still “do me” but doing me is just a little different now.  For the first time in a very long time – if ever – I’m actually good with who I am.  Have plenty of flaws and I still want folks to “love me for me”, but I’m finally comfortable in my own skin.