Let’s unpack some myths and facts before we get into it.
MYTH: All women want to be in a relationship.
FACT: Not all women want to be in a relationship.
MYTH: Women who don’t want to be in a relationship are not worth dating.
FACT: The best woman to take out on a date is the woman who is not searching for a relationship.
I know it may seem like a backwards idea, dating a woman who doesn’t want to be in a relationship, who isn’t hoping for a boyfriend and thinks she has no room in her life for one. If you’re one of those guys who actually wants to be in a relationship, who feels ready for a girlfriend, this idea may seem even more nonsensical. Because if you’re looking for a serious relationship with a woman, why not go for the woman who is looking to be in a serious relationship with a man?
The answer is simple: The woman who is looking for a boyfriend has an agenda.
A woman who plans her love life like she plans her weekend is a scary thing, not because commitment is scary, but because she is allowing her head to captain a journey her heart should be steering. Should I get into a relationship with this type of woman, I’m not her man so much as I’m some character in this fairy tale life she is writing every single day.
There was a woman who once loved me. A lot. And when I say a lot, I mean, more than I could handle.
The end to our story was not messy. As a matter of fact, she’s still around to this day. I run into her from time to time, we see each other pretty regularly and when we do, we are friendly. As a matter of fact, I would even go so far as to say we are this way towards each other because we are friends. So there is no ill will between us, no animosity.
For a long time, there was just, a stir of uneasiness in me whenever she was around. Part of it was guilt that I chose not to pursue things further than they went, and I knew that hurt her. The other part of the uneasiness was I had no real good reason why I cut things off in the first place.
I think I’ve mentioned this before, but if not, here we go.
During my high school years, every now and then I would go after school to visit my mom at her workplace. Whenever I or my sister walked into the restaurant where she was a waitress, we were always given the royal treatment. Anything we wanted from the menu; virgin smoothies on deck from the bartender; warm hellos from the entire staff. During those visits, my sister and I would always feel like we were VIPs, and it was all because of one thing: everyone at work liked my mother.
The first gig I had out of college was as a fact-checker at VIBE Magazine. To this day I remember the email asking me if I was interested, the look on my mom and sister’s face when I told them. The dance I did in front of my mirror when I realized it was going to happen.
I started in the summer of 2004, and for those first eight months, no one could tell me I didn’t have the coolest job in the world. There I was, this fresh-faced college graduate who came from a small town called Seaside, in California, now living this big city dream working at one of the best music magazines in the country. What made it all the more sweeter is I was doing exactly what I told people I would be doing; working at VIBE, writing about music.
But eight months passed, and like every person in my generation of strivers, my ambition was getting the best of me. I began to want more opportunities, more looks (what we call “stories” in our industry), more of everything. The job wasn’t providing me with such things, so what was once a dream come true became a bitter reality. Compounded with that, was a woman I was dating at the time, coincidentally going through the same thing as me.
For the past ten years, I have always improvised the way I spend my Thanksgiving holiday. It’s been this way since my freshman year of college when my Mom and I decided Christmas would be the holiday for which I would come home and my Thanksgivings would be spent either working or joining up with friends and distant family living on the East Coast.
Some years have been great, like the past two I have spent with my boys, coming together like the brothers we are. Another year I spent with my closest female friend in New York City where we stayed at my brother’s. Then of course there were a couple of girlfriends whose families took me in for the holiday. Always interesting.
But when I think about all the Thanksgivings I spent away from my family, none of them resonate with me more than the first one, my freshman year.
Today, I want to pay my respect to all the smart, crafty women who know exactly how to get what they want out of a man. I’m not talking about the gold diggers. I’m not talking about the sexually independent women who know how to separate their bodies from their hearts and get theirs like a man gets his.
I’m talking about all the women who know how to bring a man in and out of her life for one night only without giving up any part of her body and giving up any part of her wallet. I’m talking about the women who need a man in their life to distract them from the man they really want in their life and take advantage of the opportunity to do so just as soon as it presents itself. Those women are SMART in all caps.
When my mom and her man of 11-years were going through their break up and he was moving out the last of his things, we decided to go out one night as a family. I remember how sad my Mom was as we were leaving the house and how heavy the tension was in the car between my Mom and Pop. They weren’t really mad at each other; more like mad that after 11 years, it was all ending.
My sister and I rode in silence, mad too.
Then we got to the restaurant, a pizzeria in a neighboring town, and were taken to our table. It was as if the chairs we sat in held the cure for unhappy families, because from the moment we sat down, the four of us didn’t stop laughing and smiling with each other. Like, we were a family, and probably the happiest one in the restaurant. It was as though we had just begun, rather than ending, our time together as a family. To this day, that remains one of the happiest nights of my life.
A few days later, my Pop moved the rest of his things.
Ever meet someone who likes one particular thing to a point where it’s almost obsessive and frankly a little weird? I understand fetishes. We all have them. I have them. Plenty of girls I have been with have them. There is absolutely nothing wrong with fetishes until they start getting in the way of, the real thing.
Now I could have very easily entitled this post “Girls You Shouldn’t Fall For: The Grown Woman Who Lives At Home Edition”, since this woman was my age at the age of 25, but really, none of this was because she still lived with her parents. It had something to do with this thing she liked a little bit too much and me, a guy she didn’t like quite enough, or for only one reason.
In her defense, she told me before we even went out on our first date. It was kind of like a warning, but I didn’t take it that way, more so like a challenge. She was a virgin and she was going to remain that way until she was married. Having known my reputation for liking sex (which isn’t even really a reputation so much as it is a stereotype, accurate and true), she wanted to give me an out, but that’s not what I wanted.
I wanted in. Not in a physical sense. The challenge I saw was not to break this girl down and make her change her mind. I just wanted to be close to this girl I had my eye on for months, and was curious to see if I could actually get to an intimate connection that goes beyond sex. So I accepted these circumstances and I gave it my all, as a consequence, this is what happened.
I want to talk about a particular type of woman. She’s pretty, but not conventionally so, and though this woman doesn’t exist in my current dating life, she has popped up from time to time, not only in my life, but the life of all men.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, some of us be holding some confusingly pretty girls. That’s what I call them, confusingly pretty girls. These are the girls who we think is fine, but none of our friends, girl or guy, is co-signing. Maybe she’s aware of it, maybe she’s not, but every man knows the deal. They’re dating a girl only they think is fine, and all the while they’re wondering, “Damn, how did this happen?” Well, I’ll do my best to explain how it happens.