Category Archives: MEN AIN’T SHIT

This doesn’t apply to all men, of course. There are pockets of honest, faithful, openly communicative, and trust worthy men. But, some of ya’ll Ain’t Shit!

Tale of a Polyamorous Heartbreak

No one ever said it would hurt any less. 

I’ve read a few books, some articles, and asked strangers all over the internet. They made the poly lifestyle seem like a walk in the park; open and honest communication and affection between partners; nothing could go wrong. They all said it would require constant work, but, none of them ever said; when the journey had run its course, it would still hurt like hell. Had they told me I could’ve prepared; but, since they didn’t, I had to learn it the old-fashioned way. 

I connected with him on Hinge, he was Latino and, a few years younger. He lived in New Jersey, so I was hesitant at first, but I figured I should take a chance and see what would happen; in the very least, I would end up with a good friend. Surprisingly, we hit it off, almost immediately; we bonded while discussing current events, music, food, tv, and movies we both liked; we were off to a great start.  

Our first date we walked to get dinner at Mexicue; three tacos and two margaritas in, the conversation flowed like a river. He was just as cool in person, as he was over the phone. We talked, laughed, and joked the time away. When we were finished, he got the check; then we left. We walked side by side as we made our way to Barcade (a bar with arcade games). He got us beers (me a cider), then exchanged dollars for game coins. I offered to give him some cash, but he turned it down. We played a plethora of games; from Tetris, to Pacman, to shooting games, and driving games. It was obvious he was in his element, and I actually enjoyed seeing him in his element. When we ran out of coins, I suggested we walk to get dessert; so, from 23rd street, we walked down to Spot on St Marks Place. It was the usual hour wait; but, with him, the time passed by. Once we were called, we each ordered dessert, I ordered a latte and he ordered a matcha beer. This time when the check came, I paid it; a few times he fought me on it, but eventually he let me pay. Our date ended at a karaoke bar, a few doors down. He paid for our drinks, I paid for the songs; and it was there, while we were sitting close that he leaned in to kiss me; ever so gently. He held me close as our mouths and tongues danced together; and although his kisses were passionate, he maintained being a total gentleman. We continued making out the rest of the time at the bar; we would caress my arm as we sat at the bar, we’d take a drink, then we would begin kissing again. When the bar closed, we walked up to 14th street. He got on the Path train back to New Jersey, and I took an Uber home. The next day when my friends and I went wine tasting, I told them it was, quite possibly, the most amazing first date I ever had.  

We spoke every day after that. Our next date was a week later and we went to the movies to see Toy Story 4 (in 4D); and it was awesome! After the movies, we walked around for a bit; we talked abouyt favorite holiday songs, movies, and traditions; then we stopped to eat at Grimaldi’s Pizzeria. When we finished eating, we walked back downtown. From 22nd street, we walked all the way through the village. It was the weekend of the pride parade and the everyone was out and proud. We stopped to get ice cream, and we walked past the Stonewall memorial. We continued walking down to the path train; hand in hand, and stealing occasional kisses. When we got to the train, it was a 20-minute wait; we started kissing, 40 minutes later, no train had arrived and we were still kissing, after an hour of standing in the station, waiting for the train that never came, kissing the entire time; when we resurfaced, both of our lips were slightly swollen. Even though our kisses were extremely passionate, he was still a gentleman; other than our bodies pressing up against one another and the occasional cheek grab; none of his actions were super aggressive. I wondered, if we were in his apartment, would he have the same restraint. Earlier in the date, he had suggested our next date be on his side of the water and I told him; I would look forward to that. He called his uber and it came right away. I contemplated walking around a bit, but decided against it and called my uber home. That, unfortunately, was the last time I saw him.  

On our first date, it was my mission to make clear my polyamorous position; so, we briefly spoke about the people we were dating. I briefly mentioned the guys I was dating and he had mentioned a girl, and that was that. A few weeks after our last date, when I returned from camping; I messaged him. I had noticed his messages becoming less and less, so I wanted to know what was going on. He explained to me that, things were progressing with the girl he was dating. He explained that he felt dishonest seeing both of us. Neither of them was in the lifestyle, and although he walked around to the deep end of the pool, he was not ready to take the dive in. He told me he had to stop seeing me; I thanked him for his honesty, and I wished him luck.  

When I put the phone down, my body began to warm up; from my toes all the way to my face, I was hot with emotions. Then, they all pooled out, in the form of tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to break up with me. This was not why I decided to be polyamorous. I dived into this pool to build bonds with people; that would last a lifetime; so, how was I just supposed to walk away? Was I supposed to take those great memories and burn them? This was a feeling I did not want; but I had to live with it.  

On day 2, I was feeling better; and he messaged me. He still wanted to be friends, which is what I wanted too. I genuinely enjoyed his company and our conversations; so, we agreed to try and go back to being friends; I would respect his boundaries and he would respect mine.  

On day 3, he sent me a message that wasn’t like the others; this message had a sexual tone that had never existed between us before. He was showing signs of a fuck-boy. It crossed my mind to play with the matches he was laying out. One or two things were obvious; either he was second guessing his decision to just be friends, and still wanted to test the waters; or, all the good boy actions were just a façade. I wasn’t quite sure yet, so I continued to proceed with no caution for the outcome.  

A few days later, another sexual message passed across my phone; so this time I decided to play into the fantasy. I knew what I was dealing with and I felt confident that my emotions were intact. We did this dance for a few more weeks; and then I realized just how morally different we were.  

He sent me some clip of some conservative (probably religious) man, essentially blaming women for men that can’t control themselves. In the clip; the man claimed that women only use their bodies to get ahead; which I, of course, wholeheartedly disagreed with. That was our last real conversation. I messaged him when the podcast episode dropped; to let him know and see how he was doing. All was good on his end and all was great on mine; and I was fine with closing the chapter forever.  

I didn’t want to close the door when it was forced upon me; but I was quite elated when the choice was mine. In the end, I know it wouldn’t have ever worked out; but it was fun while it lasted. Once I weathered the storm of my first poly-heartbreak; I knew that when the time came again, I would be much better prepared.  

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GO FUCK YOURSELF!

People often get extremely pissed off when someone says this. This phrase often follows an argument or an angry exchange of words; finally, when either person refuses to argue anymore, they yell “Go Fuck yourself!” 

Anybody that knows me, knows that even though I’m one of the sweetest people you may ever meet, I can also be the most sophisticated asshole. Years of therapy and soul searching has taught me that, people can be very fucked up. People can have insanely horrible days, and here I come with my smile, making a mockery of their misery. Their only option to protect them from feeling even more miserable about their life, in my presence; is to try and fuck with me.  

A lot of research says that sex is one of the most powerful transferences of energy; hence why you’re only supposed to have sex with people you like; I, Thank God! do not fall into this category. Maybe I have an invisible-sexual-emotional-shield, that allows me to have amazing sex with a person I can’t stand and walk away energized and ready to tackle the world. On the other hand, non-intimate interactions have the ability to turn this happy camper into a raging bitch, that can easily empty out my pockets, and throw away all the fucks I ever gave.  

I had an incident last month, on a bus with my friend (Hey Girl!). Some ass hole guy (Chinese), disrespectfully approached me about a seat on a bus; where there were more than enough empty seats around for him to select another; but because my feet were on the chair – he was determined to cause a scene. On top of his overly aggressive tone, he proceeded to disrespect my upbringing and education; when his original argument was about me “paying for one seat” (stick to one argument buddy!). Then back-up Billy decided to chime in and add more fuel to the fire. By this time the bus is getting crowded and we’re all arguing on the bus. China man wanted to flex his muscles and “call the cops” For what? Mind you, he spoke to me (when he didn’t have to). He proceeded to sit in my face and degrade me; now he felt it necessary to call his cop friend and have the bus stopped. His friend was unavailable, so nothing happened. But let’s play this out:  

Officer: What’s going on here 

Me: Well officer, this guy disrespectfully yelled at me to move my feet (which as you can see, I already did as he is seated directly in front of me) Not to mention, when there were 6 available seats all around that would’ve avoided the entire argument. After he sat down, he proceeded to degrade me, and then threaten me by calling you. So, in conclusion officer, this man intentionally instigated a problem and is threatening my safety, and is also disturbing the peace on this bus. I would like to have him removed from the bus so that I and the other passengers may ride in peace.  

But, Like I said though, his cop friend was *busy and nothing happened.  

Back-up Billy wouldn’t let shit rest, though. He kept making light of the situation, as if my feet on a seat on a NYC bus, warranted him to talk to me however he wanted. And then he did the ultimate. He said “I thought because he was Asian, he wasn’t going to stand up for himself” to which everyone who heard the argument called BULLSHIT to. Race was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t care who or what he was, I simply didn’t appreciate his tone (PERIOD).  

Eventually shit died down, the Chinese man gets off the bus and the rest of the ride is quiet. When back-up Billy gets off the bus he says “Have a good evening” (Mother-fucker! You know you ain’t genuine!) So, my response was “Have the night you deserve.” I must’ve struck a nerve because he made a comment that I couldn’t hear over the laughter of the other riders.  

I mention this story because, this altercation really fucked up my energy, for a few days. I thought about how I looked to those getting on the bus, that didn’t know he was the aggressor (Crazy Black Woman). I thought about how peaceful the ride would’ve been if he had just sat on the other seat or spoke to me in a non-aggressive tone. I thought about what would’ve happened if the officer was available and all he saw was a CBW (there goes my 0 run-in with the police). I even thought, if I didn’t have my feet on the chair. 

But what didn’t cross my mind until I got home was; what was so fucked during his day, or in his life that, that’s the kind of behavior you exhibit. What person, (that looked like me) hurt you so bad that you decided to fuck with me- of all people? Then it all made sense. He was holding onto some bad energy the way a runner holds a fart during a marathon. When he got on that bus, he couldn’t hold it any more. It wasn’t enough to release it either; he had to transfer it… and unfortunately- It worked. 

I worked so well that I didn’t even masturbate when I got home, because I couldn’t focus on pleasure with such heat in my veins. By the end of the week, thankfully, I was back to normal; orgasms at night, exercise, and laughs during the day.  

One afternoon, I happened to be walking down the street and I heard a woman arguing on the phone and she yelled “Go Fuck Yourself!” I couldn’t help but think my response would be “Later tonight!” Think about it. Next time someone tells you to go fuck yourself, instead of arguing say “Thank you, I will when I get home” OR “Thanks for reminding me”. It will either enrage them or make them laugh, but what it won’t do Is fuck up your energy.  

DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE?

People often have a difficult time understand the dynamics of a poly lifestyle choice. I don’t have all the answers; but, I attempt to break down what polyamory means for me.

I was, not so recently, asked if I still believed in love. I was asked, over drinks, by the man that was the main character in my I Blamed You story. It seemed to him, that with all my ups and downs that I had given up on the idea of love. This made me think… Did I actually give up on love? I knew I still desired a form of romantic love in my life; but, with all my ups and downs, felt it would never happen.  

Four years ago, I broke up with my last ex. I needed time to re-find myself; and fall back in love with who I was. I discovered all the things that made me happy. I re-bonded with my friends, my family, and eventually I started dating again. Dating kind of went like this: ghost, ghost, dick-pic; ghost, ghost, married man looking to cheat on his wife; ghost, pen-pal, bad sex; catfish, ghost, then good fling turned ghost; fuck-buddy, ghost, scam.  

During my pursuit to find “THE ONE” all I found was; much time wasted, half-ass conversations, and lots of hurt emotions. Then I asked myself; What was the driving force being my serial-dating? The answer was; I had set up a highly unrealistic timeline for love, based on the dreaded. biological clock. I wanted to be in a relationship by 32, engaged by 33, married by 34, and right when my birth control was done, at 35- Surprise! We’re pregnant! That was the plan. That fucked up plan had me ferociously swiping left and right, and going on date after date, until I was blue in the face and my fingers were numb.  

Why did I want a relationship so bad? Why did it matter so much to me, for me to be chosen by another? Was I not enough? I looked back at all of my former relationships where I was chosen, yet never truly happy. I used to be a serial-monogamist (relationship after relationship) and none of them ever fully satisfied me; maybe what I needed was time to explore. If I was being honest with myself, I was, only, happy about 60-70% of my relationships; the other time, I was Miserable, with capital “M”. There was always something that was missing. On the opposite end, there was always something that I was unable to give, and that in return made me feel less than. I never met a man that shared my hobbies and desires, and I never met a man I could really be myself with. For the better part of all my relationships I tried to fit into this perfect little image of what he wanted me to be. I tried being his everything and looking back- I hated it! 

I had always known that alternative love-sytles existed, I was simply hesitant to seek them out. So, tired with doing what, I was supposed to do, I decided to try and do what I wanted.  

I took it slow at first (or not- depending on who you ask); I claimed my position on non-monogamy, polyamory, and bisexual. I met M_Tinder, and shortly after I met R_Tinder. The connections I had with each man was dynamic in its own right. I was openly dating both men, they knew of each other, and jealousy wasn’t a factor. My conversations with M were light hearted, while my conversations with R were more dynamic. The yin and yang of the two fed my mind, but the direct consistent human connection was slightly missing. As I still craved human contact, some weeks it wasn’t enough. So, I thought; what would happen if I sought one more person of interest.  

It just so happened that, over the past few weeks, my romantic interests have doubled. With romantic walks, deep conversations, passionate kisses, amazing sex, and constant communication; I’m content with my current lifestyle choice. I don’t feel pulled in 15 different directions, like I thought I would, and I am able to take the time that I do have and spend it with the ones I choose. 

For the first time, in a very long time, (I can’t reiterate it enough) I am unapologetically, happily! 

With the variety of special people in my life; I can be: romantic, caring, funny, playful, serious, woke, witty, a princess and open. I can also be: a sex-goddess, submissive, an exhibitionist, and a total freak (You know, that one you wouldn’t bring home to meet your mother). 

I wasn’t able to answer the question then; but I can answer it now. I do believe in love. I just don’t believe in monogamous love for me (at least for the foreseeable future).  

That’s not to say I may never grow tired of this lifestyle. Who knows, maybe 4 years from now I’ll meet someone that will make me want to give it all up. We’d get married, I’d pop out a few babies, and we’d ride happily into the sunset. Sitting on the front porch, sipping lemonade in our rocking chairs, watching our grandchildren play; I’ll reflect back on this time in my life with a warm heart. 

Or, I’ll remain in this lifestyle and continue to build beautiful meaningful, long-lasting connections with my partners. We’d attend each other’s weddings, and create unions of our own design. A blended host of families like no one has ever seen. We’d stake out real estate and build a community around our love, so our children would grow up knowing that love comes in many forms. We’d be together on holidays, birthdays, and graduations. We’d be there for each other as we grow old and no one would die alone; because we’d have an abundance of love between us all. 

I’m not sure what the future will look like, as I’m happy taking this one day at a time. The loves that I am experiencing are not, by any means, traditional; but they are the identity of love that I not only need but am also able to give.  

WHO I AM.

Being diagnosed with herpes, while on my road to peace; I forced myself to define (for me and only me) Who I am.

I am Carolyn. I am a black woman, of African American descent. I am 32 years old and my zodiac sign is a Gemini. I am an athlete: I exercise regularly, I run marathons, and I’ll be doing my first triathlon next month. I am an artist: I sing, dance, design, sew, I paint, and do computer graphics. I am a daughter, sister, niece, cousin, aunt, sister-in-law, etc. I am a great worker, listener, advice giver, and fantastic friend. I am a foodie and I am a person that enjoys delicious cocktails. I am friendly, bubbly, sarcastic at times, serious and/or uplifting when I know that it’s necessary. I am a critical and tactical thinker, and I am an avid planner. I am a free-spirit; that loves positive good energy. I am a lover of consensual love (in any form). I am sex positive, body positive, non-monogamous, polyamorous, and bi-sexual human being. Oh! I also have herpes.  

You see that? I have herpes, but it is not who I am. 

Anyone who knows me, knows all the above; and until I decided to go public with my status, very few people knew that I had herpes. But, if they were asked to describe me, you’d get a mix of: she’s funny, she’s friendly, she’s bubbly, she’s a freak, and she likes to party. Never would you hear, “Carolyn is herpes”. 

For a long time, I was afraid to speak out about my status, for fear of what people would think and, of course, the dreaded STIGMA. The stigma that says ‘only people like this get herpes, or no one will want you if you have herpes, or people with herpes should just crawl under a rock and die’- yes there are people who say such thingsFor the most part; I always understood that herpes is something that I have; it is NOT who I am. However, it took me a few years to finally believe that to be true and to live in that reality.  

So, I write this post, with the hopes that it will reach the people that need it most. For those battling with self-love after their diagnosis, for those that feel ‘dirty’ or worthless, and for those that feel they will never find love or have casual sex again. I write this to tell you that: you are not dirty, you are still worthy of love, you will find love, and with the right person you may even find good casual sex again. The trick is, to do the self-work! 

When I was younger, I used to cut myself. Never deep, never a lot of blood, and never to kill myself; I only cut to feel and have control. I started having sex at 14, and at that age my mind didn’t process, what we now call, fuck-boy behavior. You know, when men tell you what you want to hear just to get the pussy. At that age, my mind thought that, if he’s having sex with me- he must really like me (silly rabbit!). Anyway, after countless lust-filled heartbreaks I yearned to have some control. I found that control in the form of cutting. When my mother read my diary and found out, she thought I was cutting school; (since black kids don’t cut their body). When she found out the truth, she did what she had to do; and put me in counseling. For this act (in addition to giving me life) I am forever grateful. My counselor (Ms. Antoinette Rodriguez) was a much-needed saving grace. She helped me from 14 all the way through high-school. She helped me navigate my feelings and establish my self-worth. She encouraged me to be the artist and positive spirit I was born to be. She helped me to know that other peoples’ opinions of me didn’t define me. She helped me to find and love me. After I left the program I would stop by and visit her. Then, one day, due to budget cuts the program was closed. I was sad but very pleased with what she had done for me.  

Fast forward a few years and toss in a herpes diagnosis, and a string of failed monogamous relationships, and I became a lost soul again. I didn’t go all the way back to square one, but I did question and doubt my identity. After my diagnosis; I was this girl who loved sex and was fantastic at it- now, who was I? Would anyone ever want me again? Who’s going to want a girl with herpes? Would I end up alone?  

Too scared to go out into the world I sat on the sidelines. I kept my diagnosis quiet until I got serious and then I would tell my partners, and to my surprise, they all stayed with me. The only problem with that was, Me.  

For all the boyfriends I had, post herpes, I was never fully happy. I always wanted something more; but, because of herpes and the fear of being alone, I stayed. This mentality though, isn’t just a herpes thing. Think of how many people stay in abusive relationships, or keep taking back cheaters, or stay for financial security. Staying for comfort isn’t uncommon; but leaving for peace of mind is necessary.  

It was after my billionth crying series with my (X-Files series) Fuck-boy of an ex where I finally said. “I refuse to be in a bad relationship & have herpes”. Since I can’t get rid of herpes, I had to get rid of the guy. 

The first step was to separate my sex from my identity. I was always this amazing human with great energy, but my fear of rejection caused me to be less than amazing. The next step was to take the time to complete me. You know the people that hop from relationship to relationship because they feel incomplete when single- we all do. I had to take the time to find the things that make me happy and whole, regardless if a man was in my life or not. That’s where exercise, marathons, and writing came in. I connected back with the people that I know would always be there for me; my family and friends. Once I became my 100% I only wanted to surround myself with people that would fill my cup over; not take from me to make them whole. I reconnected with my sexuality. I love sex, I always have loved sex. However, this time around, sex was a bonus not the grand prize. The grand prize is me: my energy, my advice, and my friendship.  

Lastly, I took the moment to reclaim my sex-positive space. With this abundance of love and positive energy flowing through me and believing that monogamy may not be for me; I decided to dip my toe in the world of polyamory and non-monogamy. In doing so, I’ve been making the best connections, getting the best advice, honestly communicating with everyone in my life and, of course, having some of the best sex I’ve had in years. There’s a connection with my partners (sexual and non-sexual) that was missing before. Living in polyamory, I’m taking the time to build foundations that were often skipped over before. The openness in communicating and the ability to express my desires, with no fear of being judged is also very refreshing. 

Sure, from time to time, there are some rejections (which is fine). I know that not everyone will want to take the risk, but having those moments to educate potential partners/friends/acquaintances on how to remain herpes free, after they are no longer romantically interested in me, still feels good. I am aware that when I disclose and they are no longer interested, it only means they are declining herpes and not me; because, herpes is only what I have. It is not, who I am. 

FINDING THE SILVER LINING

For the first time, in a long time, I can finally say that; I am truly happy. I have family and friends that I love, I have a job that I like, and I’ve learned to appreciate and look at life- glass half full. I’ve learned to not stress over the things I can’t control and to always realize, no matter how bad things may get, they could always get worse.  

This past summer, I was robbed. No- I wasn’t knocked upside my head. I was a victim of opportunity because the perpetrator got to my heart. Yes- I was scammed. Timing had everything to do with how things happened; so, allow me to fill you in on the details.  

It was after my vacation in Florida. I was on a Disney-Sugar high and when I returned; I was feeling great. The following week, I experienced the worst racially-fueled disrespect I had ever received (What Lies Beneath) 

The week after that, I started speaking to Scammer. He seemed like a breath of fresh air to all the other ass-hats I had encounter over the past 3 years. He called me every morning, lunch, night, we spoke for hours and I just knew that this was going to work. I was on cloud nine! Could it be that my luck was finally changing? Would I, finally, be done with all the bullshits? Boy I hoped so.  

We agreed to meet a week later on Saturday, after he finished work. I had purchased tickets to the, On The Run 2 Tour, when I returned from Disney. I had tickets for the Friday night show which was a blessing since Thursday night’s show was delayed hours. There was a forecast of rain for Friday night’s show, but, to my excitement the weather what totally clear. The show was fantastic and I had a blast. All in all, this month seemed to be looking up. Disney, The Carters, and the following day I was going to finally meet the man that had virtually pulled at my heart strings. My luck was changing- Finally. 

Now, before you proceed- you have to understand that, I am in all actuality, very smart. However, the details that are to follow would prove just how dumb one can be, when it comes to matters of the heart.  

I was to meet him, at his job. His bank was running a promotion at the time (You open an account with X much money and we’ll give you this much as a voucher). My account was a bit short of the desired amount so he was going to add to the total. He’d get his new account bonus, I’d get my voucher, and we’d be out- No harm no foul. When I got uptown, he was busy and couldn’t step out, so he sent his co-worker to meet me. She came out, uniform on, so it didn’t cause for alarm. She was supposed to go in and process the transaction and then I would enter as if the account was whole and everything was going to be fine. Until it wasn’t. I was on the phone with him, while he was “processing the transaction”. As I’m on the phone with him, he asks me where do I want to go to eat, and it wasn’t until the mentioned a plethora of hood-spots that I started to realize I had made a huge mistake. Isn’t that crazy- that food made my alarms go off.  I checked my account via my phone app and I saw no bad activity, then once I refreshed what was once $2880 was now $1.86. “You robbed me” were the only words that I could muster. I stormed into the bank, explained that I was robbed, called my bank; but in the end it was too late.  

I walked home with blood-shot, swollen eyes and an empty heart. I didn’t want them to know how dumb I had been; so, I told my family I was stood up. The next morning, I woke up hoping it was a dream, but it wasn’t. It had happened and there was nothing I could do. I had allowed my infatuation with the possibility of love to cloud my judgement. During that time, I pushed away all logic and reason; because I wanted to believe that he was the real deal. And all I found out was that he was a really-really good scammer. If I had been robbed the conventional way, it would’ve hurt less. But because he played with my mind and heart, it was a billion times worse. I guess you’re probably wondering- Where is the silver lining? And here it is.  

Like I stated earlier, I have a way of looking at things glass half-full or; that they could always be worse. I once worked in a bank as a teller. A customer came in with a fraudulent check and I, unfortunately, cashed it; for that I was fired. Although I was sad that I was fired, I realized I had no “real” responsibilities. I didn’t pay rent, I had no kids, and unemployment could easily cover the bills I did have. So, even though I was pissed, I was in a much better place than any of the other employees it could’ve happened to. There was another time; I worked in a restaurant, and I was fired. The silver lining there was being fired pushed to me put my degree to use. I would’ve grown comfortable at that job, had they not fired me. So, it was, yet another, blessing in disguise.  

I connected with this person via Plenty of Fish. This was also around the time that guy was arrested for raping and murdering women he met online; from you guessed it… Plenty of Fish. Who knows what might have happened if he was a murder/rapist, or human-trafficker, instead of a scammer? So-what! I was robbed; but, I’m alive! I know there are many women that go on dates and are never seen again- I count myself lucky. Consider it happened later in life; if I lived alone, had a car, kids? What if it was $30K instead of $3K? I can bounce back from $3K, but $30K – not so much.  

The situation I went through caused me to be wiser the next time someone seemed too good to be true. When I joined FetLife (a site for like-minded kinky people and the occasion pay for play exchange) I was approached my hundreds of men claiming to be “sugar daddies” – this time, I knew better, because of what I experienced. Eventually, after almost 8 months, I did get my money back, so I’m happy about that. But let it my experience be a lesson; when someone seems too good to be true, they probably are..

The Ex Files_Part 5: Definition of Insanity

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Early-Mid December: 

Remember, he had offered to get Motown tickets for us in July. I want to say in early November he gave me a call one night to ask my availability. I told him a date and he said he was buying the tickets. Between then and the day of the show we had another falling out about his birthday. His birthday fell around Thanksgiving; even though we were not on the best page, I wanted to make a nice gesture. I offered to take him to dinner and I told him to pick a date. His son would be up for the holiday but I figured that we could go out one night and the other night he could have dinner with his family. Long story short he said no to both and our communication dropped, once again. So, with hazy communication when the day of the show came around, I texted him to confirm the time we were meeting up, to which he replied he never bought the tickets. We didn’t speak for a week or two after that.  

Christmas came and went, we were barely on speaking terms yet neither of us declared the relationship over.  

In January, he asks me over because he wants to talk. In my mind we were 98% over but since the words were not spoken, we were still, technically, together. Earlier that week I had saw a good breakfast spot in his area so I agreed to meet him. I got my breakfast then he picked me up and went to his place. I was tired of giving him room to decide what he wanted. I came with a clear and defined agenda. This is where I first established my non-negotiables.  

Non-negotiables are my realistic approach to what will maintain my level of happiness in each specific relationship. We all know that we may not get 100% of what we want in a relationship so you consider what you can and cannot tolerate.  

1- I wanted, at least, 1 romantic date a month. A date of my choosing; where I wanted to go and/or what I wanted to do.  

2- I wanted daily communication. A phone call and/or a text that actually showed he was engaging.  

3- I wanted one weekend a month of just he and I together. I got tired of only seeing him weeknights. Hauling my ass to Glendale after work, barely bonding, then leaving early for work in the morning was not my idea of a good relationship.  

4- And lastly, I wanted a key. In the mornings he would leave me in the apartment and go to work. This was also around the time that I started training for the marathon. I was following a running plan and the inability to come and go for a run on the mornings I stayed over, took a toll on my training. If I had a key I could go for a run, come back to shower and get ready for work.  

After our discussion he did make improvements. 1 and 2 seemed to be gaining traction so I figured this could work. Then came the straw that broke the camel’s back.  

In January we were on a better page, and in February we had seen each other her early in the month. I texted him one day to ask what the plans for Valentine’s day would be (Remember: Valentine’s Day was the original crack in the delicate vase that was our relationship). He told me he had bought tickets for him and his son to go to All Star that weekend; and that was all I needed to hear to know that this relationship was OVER. I replied; “I can’t do this anymore. We are done.”  

Allow me to break down, as to why this instance was the final deal breaker.  

For months this man had strung me along with agreed dates that he never followed through on. However, you pop up and purchase these tickets on a whim, knowing all that you did over the past year. Over and over again I made excuses for him. We would have dates planned, and my family and friends would reach out to me to hang out with them and I would say no because my man and I were going to be together. Imagine my heartache when he would cancel over and over again, I would be left home alone. I gave him ample opportunities to right his wrongs and he never did. A date, some flowers, chocolates, meeting my friends, my family nothing ever happened. I would suggest fun activities for us to do, in his neighborhood and he would turn them down all the time. The day of the non-negotiables talk he made a comment that aided in my final decision. He said “I remember things that I want to do. If I don’t want to do it- I don’t care to remember.” The light finally came on in the dark cave that was my brain. I finally saw him for who he truly was. Selfish and a term we now call a Fuckboy! 

When he told me that he got those tickets for him and his son, I knew then that whatever I wanted would never be a priority to him. He would never buy me flowers because he didn’t want to. He would never buy me chocolates and take me out for Valentine’s Day because he didn’t want to. He would never meet my family or friends because he didn’t want to. He would continue to offer and say he would do things for me and with me, fully knowing that he was lying to my face, all because he didn’t want to. Finally, I saw him for who he really was and I knew I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I knew I deserved better and I was not going to get it with him. 

We spoke when I got a new job and he congratulated me. Maybe a year later we met up for lunch and we caught up with casual conversation. Occasionally he’ll still reach out to me and imply we should see each other and try to get back together. And I’ll be honest; after dealing with all my online dating fiascos over the past three years, sometimes I’m tempted to consider going back to him. Then I remember all the emotional emptiness I felt. I remember the few times good times that I hold on to were often connected by much sadness.  

I saw an episode of Steve Harvey and there was a couple and the husband said something that made so much sense. He said; we are all different people we all may want love but we want it differently. When you enter a relationship, you have to learn how to love your partner the way they want to be loved. We have to learn to accept that what worked for the last partner may not work for the next one.  

Example: Your last partner may love affection and company; spending time and hanging out may be more than enough to keep them happy. But if your next partner prefers gifts and communication, you’ll have to learn to adjust to loving them in that way. Every pair will be different, but you have to put in the work to find out and maintain the level of happiness. 

My answer was and will forever be no to getting back with him. He was too set in his ways and unwilling to love me in the way I wanted and needed to be loved. He expected me to be content with what made him happy and that would never work for me. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and expecting a different result; and, for once, I was finally sane.

The Ex Files_Part 4: Tired of Tired

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So, let’s do a recap.  

October-November: Casually Dating 

November-January: We’re sleeping together. No official title. No gift for Christmas and no time spent together for the holidays. 

February (Valentine’s Day): First official argument. I requested a date, that he agreed to, yet never fulfilled. I got him a card.  

February-March: He proposes a mini vacation that he never follows through on. 

April-May: Still no title. We’re seeing each other about once a week. Actual romantic dates are not frequently happening. Most dates are basic movies and/or cheap dinners or takeout.  

June (My Birthday Month): I receive no present. 

July (My family vacation to Vegas): He said he would attend but he did not.  

August: I was ready to put my foot down and/or call it quits. He then called me his girlfriend and I fell in stupid all over again. He offered to buy me tickets to the Motown play. 

September-October: The rocky ground becomes flaming coals as I become frustrated with yet another promise that is never fulfilled (Six Flags Fright Fest).  

So here we are, in November. I had grown tired of his bullshit. However, for reasons (which I will address in a totally different post to come later) I couldn’t completely cut the cord and walk away.  

We had stopped speaking for a few days after he let me down with the Six Flags fiasco. I played the dumb game most of us play: he’d text me and I would wait hours to text him back etc. Then, one afternoon he gave me a call. Claiming how he missed me and wanted to see me. At this point, I had grown tired of leaving my job, travelling on the train for over an hour just to go to his house and do nothing but watch tv and get crappy takeout. If I wanted to watch tv I could do that at my own damn house. I came to the realization that he was not a pick up on signals type of guy. I would have to make it crystal clear for him. So, I asked him “Where are we going to go?” His response; “I have to see how I feel, I might be tired.” To which I responded: “That’s fine. Hit me up when you’re not tired. Because I am sick and tired of you being tired whenever I come by. Ok.” I then hung up the phone.  

He was furious with me; but I gave ZERO FUCKS. I was done caring about his feelings and him being tired- blah fucking blah! He immediately called me back; he was shocked that I hung up on him and that I would say that. He complained that I was the busy one and that I didn’t make time for him. Which was bull shit! For months I had been asking for us to spend a weekend together and it never happened. He complained that my schedule was too complicated for him and that it was too much work for him to remember my schedule. To which I responded- all he had to do was ask me my availability. He called it “making an appointment” I called it “communication”.  

I did a little digging during the course of our relationship. I found out that in his previous relationships his partners either, didn’t work or had very limited social lives and he had also taken care of them. They lived with him, didn’t work, and he handled all the bills. He was used to dating women that would always be available because they did nothing else. He was used to doing what he wanted when he wanted because he was the one that always paid. Think about it; if you’re a “kept woman” and you want to go on a vacation but rely on your man to pay for it; you have to convince him and/or wait for him to want to go on said vacation. This was his dating life for over a decade, prior to meeting me. He was not used to dating a girl that worked, had a social life, and had plans. He was used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted, and it never being an issue. Sadly- that was not they dynamics of my life; they never were and never will be. My independence matters to me, my social life matters to me, my family, my friends, my fitness all matter to me; and when I’m in relationship, my partner matters to me. To me, I thought I was doing a great job at balancing it all; to him, however, I was not.  

Needless to say, nothing got resolved on that phone call; it became very tit for tat. Eventually I got tired of to a brick wall so, I said goodnight and ended the conversation. 

We didn’t see each other for another 2 weeks. When he finally called and asked to take me out, we set a date for a weekend, we went to Juniper in Brooklyn and went to the movies after. Dinner and the movie were nice gestures, but it was like putting whip cream and a cherry on shit and calling it chocolate ice cream. 

When we got back to his place, we tried to talk things out. I told him that I was not happy in the relationship. He couldn’t understand what I was unhappy about. He said he was happy with me so why was I not happy with him; as if it was a barter system (happy for happy). For starters, I never met any of his family and/or friends; even though I had invited him on many occasions to meet mine; he simply never showed up. I brought up the fact that over and over he made promises and never kept them. To which his response was “well I never promised.” He didn’t comprehend that; whether or not you use the word promise when you agreed and you didn’t follow through, it still hurts. I told him that his not caring about how I felt hurt and he claimed I chose to be upset and that I should just learn to let things go. In essence, all the things I was complaining about didn’t matter to him.  

He didn’t care about meeting my family or friends; because to him it wasn’t a big deal. He didn’t care about dates- he was just happy to be with me. He didn’t care about broken plans because to him we would always have time. Lastly, he felt that I held on to things and that I should, like him, just let them go. I had to explain to him he and I were not the same person. A person has to be willing to compromise with their partner if the relationship is to be successful. I had compromised a hell of a lot; I changed my routine and I became a home-body, I let movies and take-out replace actual dates because my guy was a casual guy, I started watching sports because he liked sports and, I made less plans to try and be available for him more. I was done compromising. I wanted dates and romance, but I also wanted honored plans, and experiences together. I told him, I’m the type of girl that when I am wronged you have to acknowledge the wrong and fix it; I do not just let shit go. If you put a crack in a vase you have to fix it, if not the crack will get worse and eventually the vase will break. I told him if he wanted this relationship to work there would have to be changes made on his part. I asked him, just to try things my way- if it didn’t work then we would cut our losses but at least give it a try. The way I saw it was: We did things your way and it doesn’t work, now let’s try it my way.  

Him trying things my way lasted for about 2 weeks. 

(Part 4 Coming Very Soon)