No wonder neither of those relationships have gone as planned.
What do you want? What are you looking for? What are you willing to do to get there?
Nothing else haphazard.
Before I start any more relationship journeys, I need to know where this is headed.
Point blank. Period.
Everyone has a general plan. We all have an end game. It may not be easily satisfied or obtained, but it exists.
Because I want forever. I want commitment and love,in natural progression.
New guy. My guy. The met his mama and his whole family guy. The met my dad and my son guy. The drop off lunch guy. The flowers delivered for an apology guy. The drive me, my son, and his friend to camp two hours away guy. The pick my son up from the same damn camp a week later guy. The late for work to ensure I’m okay guy. The fix my tire in the dark guy. The let’s vacation overseas together guy. The “don’t you wanna marry me one day” guy. The stay at his house, eat most meals with, talk about building an empire together guy. Yep, that guy.
That guy just referred to me as his home girl.
Huh? Excuse me?
Me? You can’t possibly be referring to me.
I almost went scary movie off. I mean run for your life type shit. Your home girl? Me? Really?
“First and foremost, I am too f*cking old to be anyone’s home girl. Too. F*cking. Old.”
Excuse my French. Inserted for both dramatic effect, and because it’s exactly what I said.
And, for the romantics, I heard it with my own two ears, sitting beside him, on the couch, in silence. Please don’t tell me there could be a misunderstanding.
He referred to me as his home girl, while talking to his home boy…I guess. I can only imagine we all get that title. This friend of his, was an associate of mine before I knew him. He’s the man I was talking to when I met my guy back in So there’s this guy… So, if he doesn’t know that we are dating (that’s its own issue), he would at least know my name.
Use my name. If in doubt, say my name. No title. No confusion. Just my name.
Never refer to me as your home girl. Maybe this was because we just saw the Tupac movie. Maybe he’s all hyped up on the 90s. IDK. IDC.
I sat there. Stunned. Looked at him, equal parts hurt and confused. He looked at me. He didn’t correct the bullshit. He asked me what he was supposed to say.
If you don’t know. I don’t know.
I stayed a little while. Hung around. Waiting for the air to be cleared. Nope. He made small talk. He called me over to him. I didn’t move from my seat across the room. He dozed off. Woke up. Came to me. Made more small talk. Finished off the dinner in my to-go container. I sat there perfectly still. Continued watching Hulu on my cellphone.
The cell phone with the tempered glass screen he bought me when I scratched my screen and in the Mophie case he got because I was always complaining about my battery life.
He never mentioned home girl. So I got up, got my stuff, and left. I have a bed at home that I can lay in knowing full well who I am. And, he let me leave.
The next morning he called. He typically calls. He said good morning and asked if I was still mad. I’m not mad. I’m good. He asked if I was annoyed. Yep, I am. Disappointed, too.
“Why? This isn’t a big deal.”
“Because, I AM NOT YOUR HOME GIRL!” I’m not signing up for that title. It’s bogus. It’s young and dismissive. I’m not young. I’m not going to be dismissed. Because, we should have a damn plan at this stage in life. You obviously don’t have a plan for us. So, let’s be friends.
And, I’ll go back to waiting for the man who has a plan. And, you can do whatever it was you were doing before I was your home girl.
I’m not interested in making anymore useless investments. I’m not going to play relationship with someone who doesn’t see me that way. This is insane.
Too. F’ing. Old.
Side note: I did stuff for him, too. Spent money, time, and resources. I wrote this to show how I misconstrued the direction of the relationship based on his actions. I thought we were working on something.
It’s just a kick in the teeth. Wondering what you refer to me as when I’m not there and the person doesn’t already know me. Can’t imagine I’d be proud.
It’s so important that you know what you want and be able to communicate it. It’s not weak. It’s grown. And, it’s keeps people from wasting each other’s time and breaking hearts.
Update: As my mother says, “Nothing beats an understanding.” And, we got one…I think. Turns out home girl wasn’t the direction he wanted to go in. Hashed it out. Maybe we’re beginning to get this communication thing.
How are we gonna survive in each other’s lives? How will we appreciate each other? How will we both win?
It’s more than just casual. We are figuring it out.
My struggle is that just because I got a lot of things I didn’t know I wanted, doesn’t mean I have to ignore all the things that were important to me that I didn’t get.
I have this man who supplies me with incredible attention. He’s considerate. He’s kind. He’s totally engaged in the success of our relationship.
But, we still struggle with communication. We’re still figuring it out. I shut down when things are rough. I’m currently shut down. And, I know it isn’t productive. I know it breeds confusion. But, I don’t want to create chaos with a highly emotional response.
This is a relationship. It’s all highly emotional, right?
He’s stuck trying to figure me out. He’s deciphering my mixed signals. I’m deciding if this is the other shoe. Should I just cut and run? Sheesh. We can be so exhausting.
His struggle is probably that he was totally single before me, my kid, and our dog busted into his life. He isn’t used to being this considerate of this many extra people. He’s figuring out how to live amongst us. How to love me? How to befriend my son? How to win over the dog? How to not get lost in the madness he didn’t realize he was signing up for.
“Ok get ya kids, but then they got their friends. I pulled up in the Benz. They all got up in.” – Kanye West
And, I knew what I wanted. I had a mental list. There are so many boxes left unchecked that weren’t as important as I’d thought. But, there are some serious boxes that must get checked for me to be happy…for us all to function.
The honeymoon is over, and we are still going. We’re still working. We are still figuring this shit out. I didn’t run away. And, I didn’t run back to the past. I think this guy might be the one.
Side note: I had to change the title of this. I wrote on it for weeks, and I couldn’t get the message right. Then I changed directions. It organically told the story I was trying to tell when I stopped beating my head against a brick wall.
I’ve had a long and often complicated relationship with this one guy. I saw so much potential in us, sacrificed so hard, and prayed for us almost daily.
I’m 36. I felt this had to work. We had to be successful. I honestly felt like it was my very last chance. Because, in those moments I saw my options for another child, this grand life, and all my goals slipping through my finger tips. We had to work. Right?
No. We didn’t. We weren’t good for each other. We weren’t focused on the same agenda. We didn’t have the same goals. We just weren’t right for each other. I had to get that into my rock hard skull. I had to learn to live without him.
I had to learn that we only entertain what’s important to us, and he wasn’t really entertaining me.
I had to learn that if it worked out, this would always be my life. I would always be hurt. I would always be disappointed. I had to learn that we weren’t creating a partnership, he was teaching me how to settle. I had to learn that his love would never be enough for me. I had to learn that it wasn’t the sacrifice I was meant to make.
And, I’m still learning how to let go. I’m still figuring out how to let go of the investment I made with zero return. Because that’s what it’s all about.
Really, that’s it.
I gave so much for us. I invested so deeply. I tried so hard. There’s gotta be a payoff, right?
Sometimes there’s nothing left. Sometimes you just lose. I lost. But, it’s kinda losing the battle not the war.
Because winning is sometimes losing, right? I’m choking on my on words.
I’m on the other side of that chaos. Still wishing we had a friendship to show for the time we spent in each other’s lives, but grateful that he left me in a place to meet this new guy.
Because this guy is making an equal investment, and I’m looking forward to all the adventures, life, goals, and opportunities we will explore TOGETHER.
“Last night took an L, but tonight I bounce back.” -Big Sean
There’s a new guy. He’s a big f’ing deal, too.
So we met in a haphazard way. I was enjoying a late dinner and marg with a friend. Sitting in a bar booth at On the Border, and minding my own business. We were set to close the place, or get really close. This was our first opportunity to catch up in a minute, and we had a lot to cover.
As the bar patrons thinned out, I heard this loud voice booming over all the left over conversations, blenders, and televisions. He was playing commentator to some sporting event, out talking his friends, and standing up at the bar.
I told my friend a couple times how annoyed I was. He was too loud. He was too hype. He was too intoxicated. Someone should take his drunk ass home. And if he chauffeured himself, let me get home before you hit the road. Geez.
When we got up to leave, we had to walk right past him. I put my head down, and decided to breeze past. I’d already had enough.
But, one of his friend was a guy I was friendly with. I felt compelled to speak. Just a quick half hug and the highlights on life since we’d seen each other last.
I made the mistake of commenting about his “drunk friend.” As an aware citizen trying to ensure this man wasn’t going to be out and about on the roadways. Something like, “you’re friend is drunk af.” I whispered it during our half hug. It went directly into his ear. I was trying to keep my concern secret.
He announces, “he’s not drunk.”
“What?!” I said in disbelief.
And, we called too much attention to ourselves. Now the topic of “we’re talking about you not to you,” was turned around staring directly at me.
“She thinks you’re drunk.” The guy says. Who is she? You probably don’t even remember my name. So, you shouldn’t be outing me. Damn. Really?
“I’m not drunk. I haven’t even had one drink.”
“Oh…” I had more to say, but I was choking down the foot in my mouth. I mustered up something charming. Laughed the whole thing off. Engaged them both a little more. And, then got the hell away before I said anything else I’d have to apologize for. Apologizing isn’t my favorite.
Spring forward…I guess I was just charming enough.
The next time we saw each other, we were having date night dinner at Olive Garden. Then we saw each other every day for over a week. Then we cooked dinner together at his house. Then we watched excessive amounts of TV. Then we had more Olive Garden, talked about going to Cuba, he learned how I liked my coffee, and he even met my son.
We even had a spat. The honeymoon is over. We’re living real shit. Some days it feels like it would be easier to cut and run, but I don’t want to miss the journey. I don’t want this to end.
Funny thing, I’d just realized I was done with relationships. I wasn’t ready. The thought was too much. I just wanted to build me. I just wanted to figure out my life. I need to carve the path to success for me and my kid.
I was good on my own. That’s the way it was.
And, I told the people closest to me, I’m not interested in a relationship. I’m just gonna date and have fun until I meet the guy that makes me not want to date anyone else.
Something about opening his pantry and seeing a stock of my favorite Powerades, the ones he hates, and a little jar holding all my Splenda packets, that makes me wonder if I’ve met the guy that makes me not want to date anyone else.
Side note: Those are just a few of the things he does. I’m writing this while eating the lunch he packed me. He’s a good guy.
I recently started dating someone. It’s new, but it’s going well. He’s attentive and warm, encourages me, supports me, and we laugh A LOT. This is going really well.
And, we’re nearing the exclusive stages. So, I needed to reach out to past gents and let them know I’m taking myself off the market to invest in this new venture.
Just the other day, I was making declarations about being single. Enjoying my freedoms. Not looking or expecting anything more than a few dates, a few cocktails, and a few laughs. I was finally enjoying being a single girl. I was invested in me. I was focused.
Then he came along. And, he’s screwed up everything.
So, I start the conversations. And, 2/3 confessed that they wanted more. They’d been thinking about more. They’d been considering more. They’d realized their feelings for me were stronger than they’d thought. The other one saw this coming. Wanted me to be happy. Wished me well. Promised we’d be friends.
If you knew you wanted me, why didn’t you speak up? What’s wrong with you?
Wait…did you think I was gonna stand in this space forever? Did you believe our non-relationship was so strong it would last forever?
No. NO. NO!!!
I was open to the man who would change my plan. You didn’t.
I’m okay with that. But, as a woman who cares about you, I’m telling you don’t let another woman pass you by. Live in the moment. Love honestly. Don’t be afraid. And, tell her. She might be the woman that changes your life.