[Read The Dating Chronicles: V here]
Note: I think it's important to note that the experiences I write/tweet/blog/instagram about are a collection of experiences that have happened to me, and others, over time (so not just yesterday). If I've dated you and you're reading this, feel some type of way if you want. As I always say, "If the shoe fits..."
So today (yes, June 1, 2015), I was walking down the street in my neighborhood (Harlem) and a man with a long white tee on (we'll deal with his fashion in another blog...I just can't) started walking beside me.
Him: Pretty as you is, I'm sure you gotta boyfriend.
Me: Uh...Yea (lying, as usual. You know how we do, ladies. I haven't had a "boyfriend" since I ended things with my ex-whatever months ago, but moving on).
Him: I know you gotta someone special.
He proceeded to walk beside me, attempting to make small talk about how the police car that had just passed might be after him because he was rolling a blunt on the street. Sexy.
Jesus FIX IT!
Y'all, I'm tired. Like so tired. Like, I deleted my OkCupid profile for the 70 millionth time last week and buried every other online dating apparatus. I don't even wanna look at a man...unless he's one of my gay best-friends, and together we'll lament, slurring "these men ain't shit," over some bottles of wine. This "trying to find love" thing, particularly in NYC, has got to be one of the most exhausting and depressing pursuits ever--even more so than pursing acting or music (which is pretty damn exhausting). I mean, I'm content with being by and with myself--for now-- and I prefer solitude over unnecessary relationship drama any day; but I would like companionship at some point in the future, and although I'm not in a rush, I'm bombarded with self-deprecating thoughts of unworthiness and pressures from the world regarding "being as intentional with love as one is with career." It's like, you try so hard to find love and they say, "fall back," or "let it happen." You sit still and "wait for God" and they say, "you're not trying hard enough," or "you have to meet God (and your potential mate) halfway." I'm confused. What are the instructions again? Sigh.
I'm patient, I think. I'm kind. I'm not the most traditional gal, but I'd like for a guy to actually take me out of my house while we're getting to know each other. I'm not tryna get to know you on my couch whilst "watching" Netflix (and we all know ain't nobody really paying attention to the TV screen at 1 o'clock in the morning). C'mon son! It's like pulling teeth to get a man to commit to a walk in the park, let alone a piece of salmon and a glass of wine. Can a sista get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at least? Sheesh! I know NYC is expensive and certain chivalrous things, like picking a girl up at her door with a bouquet of flowers, are out-the-window, but these dudes don't even try. In my four years of dating in NYC, I've gotten a flower (yes a single flower) once! (He was sweet but non-committal--didn't last) Because I am/was so used to dating riff-raff and settling for the underwhelming inconsistencies of men who don't know what they want and how to get it, it took me a while to even accept that I liked flowers because I NEVER GOT ANY! Four years later, I'm finally able to admit to myself and the world that I'd like some white roses every couple of months, godt dammit!
You get to the point in this dating circus where you finally know what you want and how you want it, and, more importantly, how to communicate that to others. "I DESERVE MORE" is the greatest realization that has happened to me. Being able to walk away from a man because you deserve more gives a gust of wind beneath your wings. I have never been more confident in this dating game than now. Even amidst the frustrations (and I'm sure there will be a part 7, 8, and 9 of this lol), there's still confidence and hope. I continue to navigate language as I try to create less aggressive ways of communicating my expectations. It's a process.
Anyway, the famine is real, ladies and gents. I'm just tryna be joyful regardless of my relationship status.
Good tidings. Until next time.
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