Category Archives: Love or Something Like It


A shiver ran down my spine and my nipples stiffened. Closing my eyes and inhaling, I felt his kiss against my lower back, my inner thighs. Leaning in to kiss him, I breathed in my aroma as it lingered on his face. I licked what remained of my sweetness from his lips and he fed me his finger tips. I raised my hips, opened myself up, and wrapped my legs around his waist while I sighed his name as if i was begging. I pleaded for him to never stop. I wanted us to melt into one another. I was full but craved more. I was insatiable. How did I deny myself of this for so long? And now that I’d finally had a taste, how could I ever curb my appetite again?  

Hands, legs, and lips everywhere. My body hummed with pleasure when he gazed at me as if I was a feast and he had been fasting for weeks. I trembled and gushed to the sounds of him enjoying me. Loving him is delicious.

Quick Little Gems Dealing With Men

As seen here via

Everyone thinks that (s)he is an expert on the opposite sex, even those that claim to know nothing at all.

When I was asked to weigh in on this topic, I was iffy. The last thing I want is to come off as a misinformed airhead, spewing ridiculous advice about dealing with the male populous. I mean, I only know what I know from personal experience and that goes for many. But, it’s also important to remember that everyone has different experiences. And so, I decided to approach this list as best I could by picking the brains of a couple of men that I consider to be less shitty than others. Pairing what they had to say with a little if my own logic and brilliant wit (^_^), I’ve come up with 3 quick gems to remember when dealing with men. 
This came up a lot. I thought of it as my first potential gem before even asking my guy friends’ opinions. After having heard the same thing over and over, I knew that this was worth mentioning. 

Listen, girls. Men can’t read minds. And unless you’re the real life Jean Grey, you don’t have that ability either. So why do some women expect for some men to “just know?” We like to think that certain things are common knowledge. And while that can be true in some cases, it’s very possible for someone to “just NOT know.” And that’s okay. Don’t get me wrong though. Being an all around decent human being to those you supposedly care about shouldn’t be rocket science. However, when it comes down to specifics on how you want to be treated, sometimes you you do have to spell it out. Tedious, I know. But it’s a very privileged way of thinking if you believe that every man you meet will know exactly what you want, exactly how you want it and exactly when, where and why. If you like the guy, and want him to stick around, there’s nothing wrong with taking the time to school him once or twice on what it is you want/need exactly. If he’s a good boy, he’ll learn quick. Just remember that closed mouths don’t get fed. SPEAK UP, HOE! This way, he can’t ever use “I didn’t know” as a valid excuse if you catch him slipping. 
I’m a feminist. Go ahead. Roll your eyes. Suck your teeth. Imagine that I’m some ugly, hairy troll that “only wants equality when it’s convenient.” But before you stop reading, hear me out on why this gem and my feminism go together like Donald Trump and stupidity. Men are human beings, right? So are women. And women have feelings and emotions, correct? So why wouldn’t men? A patriarchal society has engrained into us this distorted concept that women are the only gender allowed to have feelings. To be crybabies, even! Whereas men are supposed to be made of stone. Wrong! Men do indeed have feelings, whether they want to admit it or not. They are made up of a lot of the same mushy, fleshy, pink matter that women are.  

This notion that guys are supposed to be über macho 24/7 is hogwash. “Grr! I’m a man and I can grow facial hair on command! Grr! I eat a bowl of broken beer bottle glass for breakfast every morning!” Spare me. Just as a guy can hurt your feelings, you can hurt his if he cares enough. That doesn’t make him a bitch. That makes him human. Hypermasculinity is damaging to our men. Especially our black men. Young boys grow up being told that crying is for punks and being emotional makes you less masculine. Ladies, don’t advocate for this fucked up mentality. Be aware, supportive and understanding that your man feels pain, sadness, frustration, happiness and love just as you do. Worry less about him being emotional and more about his emotional MATURITY. Or you could, like, fuck a bolder if you’re that concerned about somebody being hard. Your call. 
I hear couples say the whole “in a relationship, ‘me’ becomes ‘we’” line often. I’ve always interpreted it to mean that you shouldn’t be selfish and you should consider your partner more in the choices you make that affect your relationship. But some people take “we” to extremes. You are both still individuals. Your guy is still his own person. Let him maintain his individuality and personal life. What makes him who he is is what attracted you to him in the first place, so why change it? Give him room to be himself. If he’s comfortable with whom he is, you have to be comfortable with him too. Otherwise, what’s the point? Embrace his uniqueness. Let him have his hobbies. Be supportive of his talents. Maybe take interest in his interests and learn something new. Do not stifle who he is because it makes you uncomfortable. That’s not fetch. 
In my experience, some men are trash while some are good as gold. And while we don’t always know which is which, I hope these gems help you maintain healthy connections with the men in your lives, whether they be romantic or platonic. Oh and as a bonus gem, always say no to fuckboys. Always. 🙂


I can go from hot to cold in an instant. I have an emotional switch that I flip on and off at will. More recently I’ve been trying to figure out of its a blessing or a curse to have such an ability.  I’m still on the fence. Sorta. 

I’m an emotional person. When I feel, I FEEL.  However, sometimes I’d rather not feel. I’d rather be apathetic. It saves me a lot of trouble when dealing with people and certain situations. More specifically, situations of the romantic kind.  
And it’s because of this switch that I have my finger on, always ready to forcefully flick, that I think I’m misunderstood in my reaction to things or lack there of. There have been times where people close to me have said that I don’t know how it feels to be in a situation where a person you love is basically a shit head but you just can’t help but love that person. Well to that, I say, “ERRONEOUS!” 
Let’s clarify. Its not that I’ve never been there. On the contrary, I was there up until a year ago. In the beginning of that situation, I was guarded. I had always worn my heart on my sleeve and it had always ended up being torn.  But he was persistent and I saw his potential (what a load of crap that shit was). I stopped fighting and flipped the switch to “On”. From that moment on, that man took me through so many emotions I felt like I was crazy. 
Things that were unforgivable I was overlooking. Things that I have called any other woman foolish for enduring, I was letting happen to me. I started to feel ways about myself that weren’t healthy. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. And for almost 3 years, I lived that way.  I’d gotten all the good advice in the world. I had all the support from my friends. I was putting on a great act for the world that I had everything under control. But I didn’t. It was as if my switch was stuck. It was like that man had cut the wiring all together and I was stuck on stupid.
Then one day, I stopped. Don’t ask me what did it exactly because I can’t recall. But whatever happened, my switch flipped and I was turned “off.”  And I stayed that way. I gained control once again and I have no plans on losing it again. 
It’s safer this way. I feel secure in knowing that I’m not too invested in someone/thing to the point that I lose myself again. I don’t ever want to feel like I’m drowning in my emotions again. Literally feeling like I cant breathe. It’s horrible. As soon as I feel overwhelmed, I exercise my ability to turn it off and turn away. 
Some people may think that it’s not exactly a good thing to be so ready to abandon your feelings. If you’re always ready to run, how do you experience how wonderful love is as a whole?  I’ve wondered that myself. I’m just not at a place where I’m willing to find out if the juice is worth the squeeze. Does that stop me from really loving someone the way I once did?  Of course it does but that’s the point. You could say that it may not happen again and that may be true but I don’t want to trust in the “maybe” ever again. That kinda sucks since there isn’t such a thing as a “sure thing” in life no matter what Miguel might’ve sang once upon a time. 
That all consuming, crazy, irrational love?  No thanks.  I’m fine with going from “I love you” to “NOPE” real quick (real fuckin quick, boy) right now.  

Relax, Mom.

The following conversation happened this morning while I was eating my bowl of brown sugar and maple oatmeal.  It all started when I filled my mother in and let her know that my cousin asked me if I would like to be a bridesmaid in her wedding this coming fall.  We were gushing about how excited we are that my cousin is getting married.  But, sure enough, my mother asked the evitable question.

“So when is your turn?  You know I’m waiting.”

I laughed, reached for the bottle of honey in the cabinet and responded, “I need a boyfriend first!”

“But what about (insert guy’s name here)???”

“That’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not?!”

“Mom, I’ve known him for five minutes!  Can I get to know someone first?”

“But aren’t you guys dating?”

“I mean maybe?  I don’t know.  We’ve been out once!  We’re just getting to know each other.”

“Back in my day, dating and talking to someone meant that he was your boyfriend.”

“Then imagine how many ‘boyfriends’ I would have had if that were true in 2014.  (Insert name here) and I are friends.”

I found this conversation to be hysterical for the first 10 minutes.  Since meeting and hearing about this guy, my friends but mostly family have been really excited.  I have a reputation of “loving them and leaving them.”  I’m never into a guy for more than a week before I find something that bothers me and I lose interest.  When it comes to men, I have the attention span of a toaster oven.  So now that I’ve been conversing with someone on a fairly regular bases for more than a millisecond and I’ve even been on the phone, it’s as if Leonardo DiCaprio finally won an Oscar (I love you, Leo!  Screw The Academy!).

“So why isn’t he your boyfriend?” she quizzed.

“Because I just met him.  Who’s to say he’s what I want in a boyfriend or if I’m even what he wants in a girlfriend?  Who knows if he wants a girlfriend at all!  We have to know if we can even be regular friends before we are anything else,” I explained.

Alright, I’ll admit that I like the guy.  I won’t pretend that managing to get me to want to be on the phone with you isn’t a pretty sizable feat because it is.  We find each other attractive, and have similar interests.  But I just assumed my mom understood that at 24 years old in the new millennium, liking the same music and movies isn’t exactly the sturdiest foundation to build a committed relationship on.  Just because he can quote lines from my favorite action/comedy sequel doesn’t mean that we are betrothed to be wed next May (although when I found out his favorite pizza topping is the same as mine I was ready to put a ring on it.).

“You know, Noelle, you’re not getting any younger.  I just want you to settle down and be happy.  I don’t want you to be like me.”

Her voice began to crack and I could see that she wanted to cry.  The conversation stopped being funny.  To be honest, the women in my family have pretty shitty judgment when it comes to the men we love and I totally understand a mother’s desire for her only daughter to fall in love, have a family and be happy in ways that she couldn’t herself.  But along with feeling sad for my mother, I felt frustrated.

You see, I went through a few years of my life wanting nothing more than to be in a relationship.  I just wanted to be somebody’s girlfriend.  I put up with shitty treatment from subpar and often unavailable men just to feel like I was wanted and loved.  But I soon realized that those men didn’t care about me.  They didn’t love me.  And I was looking for the wrong things in the wrong people.  I don’t NEED to be in a relationship right now.  24 years old and single is not a death sentence.  There’s no expiration date anywhere on my body that indicates that my time is running out.  I’m fresh out of college with so much more living to do.  Not to say that having a boyfriend stops you from living.  In fact, my ideal relationship would be to be with a guy that lives WITH me.  We can travel together.  Learn together.  Grow together.  It would all be beautiful.  But I can still do those things without a boyfriend.  I still want to do those things even if I’m single.  Let me focus on my career path.  Let me live alone for a few years in my own space, with my own things.  Let me be comfortable with me.  It took a long time for me to come to these realizations and to be okay with them.  It’s liberating.  And truthfully it makes liking someone that much more enjoyable.  There’s no pressure.  I can just like him.  He can just like me.  And whatever comes from that, will come on it’s own.  And even if its nothing more than a platonic friendship and not a destination wedding followed by a gaggle of curly haired children, that’s fine.  I will be fine.  I will be happy.  I will be happy because I will continue to live for myself and to love myself until someone who loves himself in these same ways comes into my life.  Then we will love each other.

So relax, Mom.  No, I don’t have a boyfriend yet.  But I’ve got this.  I’ll be fine.  Besides, my little brother has a girlfriend so it’s not a total loss on the whole grandchildren thing.  You’ll just have to wait a bit longer.

Taking the “Friend” Out of Friends With Benefits.

Charlotte: Excuse me. Fuck buddy? What is a fuck buddy?
Samantha: Oh, come on.
Carrie: A fuck buddy is a guy you probably dated once or twice, but it didn’t really go anywhere, but the sex was so great, you sorta of keep him on call.
Samantha: He’s like dial-a-dick.

Is it possible to have sex without strings attached? I’m getting straight to the point with this one. Fuck Buddies. Friends with Benefits. Whatever you want to label it, can it be done? Even though I have yet to see it done properly, I still believe that it can be. We’ve had two movies (which are essentially the same movie) where by the end of the story, we think that it can’t ever end without someone falling for the other. But I beg to differ. I just think we’ve been doing it wrong.
Carrie’s definition, as seen above, differs from my definition of what a friend with benefits (FWB) is mostly because I’d rather not refer to an ex as a friend or buddy but rather a mistake and a pain in my ass. But that’s neither here nor there. A FWB doesn’t have to be an ex. The basic function of a FWB situation is that this person is there for just sex. (S)he is not you girl/boyfriend. They come in handy when you find yourself in between relationships, and in need of getting off every now and then and you don’t want to deal with the hassle of going out, having to meet different people and hoping that they’re willing to sleeping with you. Like Samantha said, “he’s dial-a-dick” (or phone-a-fuck for readers that aren’t interested in dick). And the way that I’ve always seen a FWB situation begin is usually at the friend stage. But that may be where we mess up the true essence of what a FWB is.
Let’s go back to the notion that FWBs never work because someone always catches feelings. In my own situation, I was guilty of breaking the number one rule of FWBs. That rule is DO NOT DEVELOP FEELINGS! You just don’t do it. Again, the whole purpose of this set up is to have very casual sex with a person that you don’t find utterly repulsive. You get in, get off and get out. As long as everybody cums, you’re work is done. However, more times than not, I’ve heard that this simple rule is the hardest to follow. A friend of mine shared with me that he always had to end his FWB situations because his FWB would begin to develop feelings for him. When I asked if he knew why, he explained it was because he was being an actual friend to these women and maybe that’s where the problem lies. At first I disagreed and suggested that maybe the women he was having sex with weren’t clear about the nature of their relationship, or that maybe they weren’t mature enough for a FWB arrangement. But after recently seeing another FWB situation fall apart that involved another friend of mine, where I had reassured her that it is possible to enjoy the company and the penis of a man without actually wanting more from him, I’m starting to think my male acquaintance is right and, like Sway, I ain’t got the answers. Maybe we’ve gotta take the friends out of Friends with Benefits.
Yeah, it sounds pretty dope to say that you have a friend that likes all of the things that you do, laughs at all of the same jokes but (s)he is hot and you get to have great sex with him/her without anyone being emotional. It’s all the perks of having a relationship without the stresses. But maybe you shouldn’t get personal with your FWB. Do you really need to know his favorite color? Should it be important to you that she prefers pepperoni on her pizza rather than anchovies? Perhaps all we need to know is that (s)he likes A, B, and C done in the bedroom and that you both are STD free. In my personal experience, all the friend stuff like talking about personal things and spending time together when we weren’t having sex only allowed myself to really know the guy and start to fall for the guy. He became a real friend and so a bond was formed. An attachment. And it was much like the ones I have with my other friends. What made it different was that there was now a sexual attraction involved. A little extra. And isn’t that how a boyfriend or girlfriend differs from your other friends? That little extra. The terms boyfriend and girlfriend both share that root word. Friend. So of course I started to see him differently and it eventually ruined our arrangement and our friendship for some time. I didn’t know how to separate my feelings from our sex anymore.
I’m the kind of person that believes that sexual intercourse is a basic behavior for human beings. Granted, we know that we can get more out of it than a nut and off spring, but we can have sex without being in love or even in like. What makes you genuinely love or like someone doesn’t happen only while you’re humping each other all crazy. It happens in the moments in between. When you find yourself talking for hours about everything and nothing at all. When you realize you like how it feels when the two of you are holding hands. When his laugh makes you laugh. All that mushy shit that happens in romantic comedies right before things shift. When the friendship is being built. And that’s where I’ve seen the rule of detachment fail. Maybe we shouldn’t be real friends with our FWBs. Maybe we should keep it extremely light. Only speak when we have to. Maybe you shouldn’t ask how my day went and I shouldn’t ask about your favorite books and why you like them. Maybe that’s the only way to make Friends with Benefits actually beneficial.

The Time I Advised My Boyfriend To Break Up With Me

When I think about my history with relationships, I can’t help but to laugh at what once made me cry.  At 23, I look at what I called heartbreak when I was 17 and wonder if my life is an on going episode of a sarcastic comedy that airs on a channel that’s apart of God’s cable package.  While brushing my teeth this morning, I started to chuckle while remembering one story in particular.  So I figured that I’d share it with all of you because who wouldn’t want to hear about the time I unknowingly advised my boyfriend to break-up with me?

My situation with Tony* started off on a shady note.  After my first love cheated on me one week after we successfully managed to stain my Hello Kitty bed-set with small droplets of blood one year earlier (that’s a story for another day), I started seeing a guy named Kyle*.  Kyle was a cute, nice guy I’d met through mutual friends.  It wasn’t long before my AIM away messages were signed “~*~N+K [o7.31.o7]~*~” and You Make Me Better by Fabolous feat. Ne-Yo played from his cellphone every time I text’d or called him.

But Kyle was always busy (a situation I am still familiar with but again…another day).  Kyle loved football and was amazing at it.  Football was a close second to school for him and I was third.  I understood the situation since I was in a similar situation with my own studies.  Football was what would help Kyle get into the college of his choice.  Football was also here before I was.  But as understanding as I tried to be, I couldn’t help but feel sad when I wanted to hang out but he was too exhausted to due to long practices and mountains of homework.  And so, I eventually found myself relating to the lyrics that T-Boz, Chilli and Left Eye sang while dancing in sexy silk pajamas.

Tony was a local kid who was a bit on the popular side.  Before we started counting Instagram likes, we had Myspace picture likes to help us determine whether we were hot or not.  And by the number of likes and comments Tony had under his shirtless mirror photographs, it was safe to say that he was very well liked by many-a teenage girl.  On Saturdays while I was at my weekly dance class, he and his friends would hang out around the community center where classes were held.  I never thought he’d ever be interested in me, let alone know who I was at all.  We knew a lot of the same people but it wasn’t like I was memorable.  That, and he had a very pretty girlfriend and they’d been together for quite some time.  Tony was just one of those guys that you’d swoon over from a far, maybe tell your friends about crushing on but mostly keep it to yourself because it would never happen.

But one day, I was surprised and giddy to find that waiting in my friend requests was a request from Tony.  Needless to say how quickly I accepted the request and IM’d Shan about it because I knew she’d be just as giddy as I was.  A few weeks went by and every now and then we’d have brief conversations through private messages, like each other’s pictures and stick those sparkly “Showin’ Love” graphics on one another’s comments.  But I was still in a relationship with Kyle and I soon found out the Kyle’s friends were Tony’s friends so I had to tread very lightly despite my growing crush.

One night, however, Tony took our flirtation from MySpace to AIM once an IM from him popped up on my computer screen one night.  The jokes flowed naturally and soon we started confiding in one another about our issues with our respective significant others.  He told me how all he and his girlfriend did was argue and I told him how Kyle and I never got to talk or see each other because of his demanding schedule.  A couple conversations later, Tony decided to acknowledge that there was something brewing here and suggested that we explore it.  Despite the fact that Kyle and I hadn’t seen or spoken to one another much, I didn’t want to cheat on him (or cheat on another level than I might have been already).  So I gently reminded Tony of my situation and of his own.  Despite my best efforts to be a better girlfriend, I eventually gave in and Tony and I started hanging out together alone and it was clear that our interaction was the farthest from innocent and friendly.  My relationship with Kyle ended shortly after my conversation with Tony.  Somehow, word got back to Kyle about Tony and I talking and hanging out as much as we had been and so he broke up with me.  I was sad I’d hurt Kyle but this now meant that I could openly pursue whatever was cooking up between Tony and I.  But Tony wasn’t as ready to cut his ties with his girlfriend just yet.

“Her aunt is really sick and they’re really close.  I can’t just break up with her while she’s going through this.  I will but not right now.”

A sick aunt?  Of course she had a sick aunt.  But I was foolish and gave him the benefit of the doubt.  I took on the role of “side chick waiting to get chose”.  We snuck around together while his girlfriend’s aunt was “dying” and he was being her support system.  This was the kind of guy I was hoping to make my boyfriend.  Don’t I know how to pick ‘em?

The aunt finally passed away and he broke up with the girl a week or two later.  I faked sympathy but was too selfish and greedy to really feel bad about what I was doing.  Where Kyle’s initial once was, Tony’s was typed and a new date followed. It was finally time to be an official couple in front of the world!  The first few weeks were great, but karma caught up with me and one night, instead of Tony’s usual away message consisting of rap lyrics, he wrote the following:

[Away Message]: How do you handle a situation where you’re trying to make someone else happy but you’re unhappy?  You don’t want to hurt them but you just aren’t happy where you are.”

In retrospect, I should’ve seen that this relationship was about to become equivalent to a Bad Boy record deal.  Tony was Diddy, I was the musical act that’s not Biggie, and I was about to get dropped after only one album.  But I was young and dumb and thought that I was being a supportive girlfriend by replying with this:

NYCsPYT900: It’s a tough situation but in the end, you’ve got to do what’s best for you.  Your happiness is important too.  If this person cares about you, they will understand.”

It’s a clear day, Noelle.  Land.

He never replied to me and, the next day, he blew me off when we were supposed to meet up after school.  That night, I tried calling him but his mother answered the phone and told me that he wasn’t home.  I knew it was bullshit because his away message had come down on AIM.  He was avoiding me.  I was getting pissed and needed a response.

NYCsPYT900: What’s your problem?

[Away Message]: I’m Away.

NYCsPYT900: I know you’re there.  Answer me!

Tony: I think we should break up.

NYCsPYT900: What??  Y???

Tony: I jus got out of a really long relationship and jumped into a new 1.  I want to know what t feels like to b single.

NYCsPYT900: but u wanted a relationship!

Tony: I changed my mind.  U even told me to break up wit u

NYCsPYT900: no I didn’t

Tony: last night when u wrote me

NYCsPYT900: that was about me?!

Tony: I’m sorry

(Tony is away)

Leave it to me to unknowingly council my boyfriend on how to break up with me through instant message.  I handled the situation like any teenage girl would though.  I spent the next few weeks filling up my away messages with angry/sad R&B sing lyrics, changed my profile picture on MySpace to a black and white photograph, stalked his page and got angry whenever a girl wrote something under a picture of him, and showed up to his house unannounced after school once or twice.  Totally healthy coping behavior.  After our rough patch, we faked a friendship for about a year and continued to sleep with one another since I was single and he was lying about being single.  But that ended too and we went our separate ways for good once I left for college.  Kyle reached out as well and admitted that he knew that Tony was cheating on me but didn’t tell me because he believed that I deserved it.  I wasn’t angry and agreed that I could have went about the entire situation better.

I took a few gems from the entire thing, however.  For starters, where there’s smoke, there’s fire and the fact that Tony was more than willing to cheat on his girlfriend with me should have made me run for the hills and not towards his house every Saturday afternoon.  The “relationship” came to its demise faster than Da Band’s dismemberment.  I also learned that karma works quickest when you’re the one that’s going to get got.  And lastly, I learned that away messages that seem open for interpretation are usually meant that someone wants to break up with you.  So break up with them first.

*names have been changed



Every once in awhile you have a moment when you realize that a cliché saying has managed to attach itself to your life and make itself true.  When this happens, depending on the cliché, you can either feel like an ass or like you’ve got your life in order that things are going well for you so far.  In my case, however, the former is what I’ve been feeling and I curse whoever it was that said, “You are what you attract.”

My colorful love life is often a source of discussion with my friends as well as inspiration for my writing.  With more fumbles than touchdowns when it comes to matters of my heart, I take each experience and try to make it useful in someway.  In order to do this, I often have to backtrack and relive every situation in order to find what I had missed the first time.  While doing this, and talking to a couple of girlfriends in similar situations, I noticed a pattern.

To put it plainly, I’m shallow.  I’ve admitted this openly before, but in case you missed it, I’m doing it again.  I like attractive people.  Not to say that I wouldn’t ever associate myself with those that would be considered to be unattractive based on the social scale of what’s hot and what’s not but when it comes to dating, if I don’t find you to be attractive at first or second glance, you’re pretty much out of luck if you were hoping to get out of the friend zone with me.  I hate to sound superficial but its true.  And to follow in the grand tradition of clichés, most of the genuinely great guys I meet do nothing for me visually.

Now you may say that its possible for a person’s great personality to make him more attractive to you and in some cases that almost worked on me.  I had a slight crush on a great guy that I clicked with and found slightly more attractive because of his personality.  But my superficial side would every so often pop up and remind me that I do not think this guy is handsome, cute or anything remotely desirable, and put a damper on what I thought I was feeling.  It’s also very easy to put these kinds of guys in “The Friend Zone” because I know that they do make awesome friends.  However, I’m not the very best at being forward with a person I’m friend zoning.  In case you were wondering, this is where more honesty comes in.

Aside from being shallow, I like attention.  Honestly, who doesn’t?  It’s nice to feel wanted even if it’s not by someone you want for yourself.  But it’s not fair to lead this person on because you want attention.  And it is here where I have to put on my “I’m A Jerk” sign and own up to doing this far too often.  I’m not sure why I do it but I’m guessing its because, as I’ve acknowledged before, I chase guys that are no good for me.  Men that have shown me time and time again that they don’t want me how I want them and that it would never work with.  So the friend that’s giving me attention serves as a cushion.  He is someone to reassure me that I am in fact desirable to someone even if he isn’t the same to me.  And I know that if I let this friend know that I don’t want him, he will move on to someone else and I will be left without any attention.  This is where the cliché attaches itself to me like Velcro on the fibers of my love life.

I complain about how some guys are never honest with me and tell me from the beginning stages that they aren’t interested in me until I’ve already begun to like them a little too much.  But while this happens to me, I forget that I too, am doing it to someone else.  I am now that asshole that only texts when I’m bored, or have been ignored by my first pick.  I’m guilty of asking guys to the movies just because I know he will pay and I won’t have to talk to him for a couple hours.  It’s a fucked up thing to do but I do it every now and then.  Its not that I don’t genuinely care for these people as friends but I am flawed and sometimes it shows.  In retrospect, however, I know that I’m not any better than the men I curse to my friends and use as the subjects of my scorned tales of love lost.  I am my ex-boyfriend that knows just what to say to get me to come over when he’s lonely and his girlfriend isn’t around but after that night, won’t reach out to me again for another 2 months.  I’m not being fair.  I wouldn’t call myself a heart breaker but would someone else be wrong if they were to call me one? And with all of these things, I am noticing that I am indeed what I attract complain to attract.  I am a selfish, asshole.

To most, if not all, this sounds like a clear-cut case of being insecure.  Save the psychoanalysis because I’ve been down that road with my therapist already.  I have my insecurities of course but I haven’t fallen very far into the “I hate myself and always need someone” hole just yet.  Aside from my lesser qualities, I also know that I’m not a total shit person.  If we’re sticking to the theme here, unless all of the good guys that I’ve been stringing along are secretly douchebags themselves, I must be decent enough for anyone to even like me, right?  And if they are douchebags, then my guilt is being felt in vain and they deserve it.  But I don’t think that they are and so they don’t deserve what I’m giving them, just like I don’t believe that I deserve everything that I’ve been given.

And so now I’ve reached the fork in the road where I have to choose between continuing this ongoing cycle and growing beyond my bad habits and exclusive attraction to assholes with nice smiles.  I have to learn to be up front as a means to avoid hurting feelings down the line.  I have to give myself the attention I want and not demand it of someone else at the cost of his feelings.  I have to be a decent human being.  Maybe once I start doing that I’ll find someone really great and it won’t matter to me whether or not he looks like Idris Elba or not.  And as I grow as a better person, hopefully that cliché will continue to ring true.

When Your Love Life Is A Drake Song

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What do you do when your love life has become a Drake song?  I don’t mean the kind where you’re about being single, seeing double and making triple.  And Lord knows I’m still at the bottom and couldn’t even locate “Here” on a map.  I’m talking about the songs where you’ve locked yourself in a room belonging to an R&B legend and proceed to drunk-dial your ex.  The songs where Jhene Aiko’s angelic voice floats on the chorus and you remember that July has come and gone and you’re experiencing the coldest winter ever (no Sistah Souljah). 

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a little hormonal and, therefore, like a water balloon: bloated and leaking water from my face.  Crying all night and drinking all summer has left me dehydrated and exhausted. Is it karma for my less than considerate behavior in my past?  Meeting guys that are good for me but finding trivial reasons to push them away is habitual, but can anyone let me know just how long is too long to wait before all the good ones go?  I chase after toxic men.  C’mon, Noelle, you can do better.  I don’t believe that we live in a generation of not being in love because it seems like everyone else around me is, which could only mean that I’m doing it wrong.

I could be forcing things.  I just ranted about not being ready for marriage in my last post right?  I may not be sure if I’m ready for that kind of commitment, but I know I’d like to meet someone I feel butterflies for and have no second thoughts about being with.  I was in love two years ago.  But, sadly, I got stuck with the baggage while he’s jet setting with his new girl and all of his friends.

No new friends and no new loves.  I’m not sure what I’m looking for but I’m sure I haven’t found it.  Is my love life finished?  Am I avoiding commitment?  I’m just trying to find a reason not to go out every evening (besides being broke or having cramps).  Sweatpants, hair tied, chillin’ with no make up on type of evenings with someone I wouldn’t mind sharing the last slice with.  Or my heart.  I’m a good girl and I know it but it doesn’t seem to do me many favors.  “Too many times I’ve been wrong.  I guess being right takes too long.  I’m done waiting..”

So what do you do when your love life has become a Drake song?

Do I?

According to popular opinion, everybody (woman) wants to get married.  Centuries and centuries of conditioning has taught us that women are born to marry, have children and be domestic dynamos because that’s what being a woman is all about.  I’ll admit that I’ve planned a wedding for every season for myself, including an under the sea inspired reception as an homage to my obsession with mermaids.  Its nice to think about being so very much in love with someone that you want to spend the rest of your mortal existence with him and that your obsessive, clingy emotions are reciprocated by said person, and that you need a piece of paper and ring to symbolize that you two are now obligated to put up with your weird smells, habits and eventually pollute the world with even more annoying mini versions of yourselves.  Real cute.  But when you’re being told to start thinking about these things before you even know where your next paycheck is coming from, you have to stop and think that if this forward think or some archaic notion that you THOUGHT you genuinely believed in but in reality, you never thought about anything else because you weren’t taught to.

Lets keep it real.  Marriage was not created because two people were in love.  Originally, marriage was a business contract between the male heads of two families.  Women weren’t seen as useful but instead were just extra mouths to feed aside from being the ones to do the work the men did not want to do as well as a hole to stick their dicks in.  Crude, but true.  You gave your daughter away (which still happens in today’s ceremonies.  It came form somewhere, folks) to another man in exchange for livestock, land, money, etc.  She was someone else’s problem now.  Love was not a deciding factor in this exchange of property.  I’m not sure who it was that decided to pitch the idea that marriage was about romance, but whom ever it was a slick thinker.  With love attached to this otherwise cold, misogynistic tradition, people were more accepting.  As time went on, women were allowed to choose and accept or deny with whom they would marry.  Thank God for progress.  But we haven’t totally let go of our “old fashioned” notions.

I’m 23, very single and not even sure if marriage is what I want. (I know I want a WEDDING.  I don’t know if I want a MARRIAGE).  In 1920, this statement would have been a red flag for most, if not all.  But its not 1920.  Its 2013.  Being 23 in 2013 is a beautiful thing.  There are so many opportunities and people to meet and connect with and learn from, why do I have to start thinking about forever with one person?  My mother loves to ask me why I so quickly dispose of guys and my response to her is always “I’m in no rush”.  I read recently that after the age of 21, I shouldn’t be dealing with anyone that I do not see a future with.  Well….why?  Why can’t I just date to date?  At 21, I had my first legal drink and the party’s already over?  No! I haven’t even danced to my favorite song yet!

My best friend tried to convince me a few months ago that her now ex boyfriend would have been the man she married.  We hadn’t even gotten our undergrad diplomas yet and she was talking marriage?  Needless to say, I hit her with the “I told you so” after making sure she was alright with the break-up.  They’d only been seeing one another for a few months anyway.  I’m not saying you are incapable of really loving a person before you’re 30 years old but life happens and the universe has a mean curve ball.  Who says that the person you love now will still be the same person years from now?

Healthy, happy marriages are beautiful and when I see one, it makes my heart smile.  I’m far from against serious, long-term relationships and maybe one day I’ll love someone as much as I love pizza.  Maybe I’m jaded because my mother got married only so that she could move out of my grandparents’ house and my grandparents married to avoid a family scandal and I don’t have a solid example of “forever”.  But I’m far from planning futures with anyone beside myself.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the company of the opposite sex and cry while watching The Notebook when Noah tells Allie he wants all of her forever.  But unless the actual Ryan Gosling were to kiss me hard in the rain after a romantic boat ride on his lake surrounded by ducks, I don’t see it for me anytime before 30.  How old were your parents when they got married?  Are they still happy?  Was their marriage a success?  Any regrets about waiting to long or not long enough?  Regret is the last thing I want to associate my relationships with and so I want to take my time (which is ironic because I fall in and out of love faster than Kim K drops her panties for famous black dick).  If no one told us that we’re supposed to settle down and get married, would we?  Would you be so willing to say “I do”?