Tag Archives: Dating

Today’s Word is… ENTITLED

I always abhorred the idea of “men are dogs”. Men are trash… Well, we’ll get to that one another day. The idea of a man being a dog though, I always found to be simplistic. It’s the logic of the Steve Harveyisms of the world, a man don’t know no better he must be taught like a dog, good deed for treat. Give him too many treats and he becomes spoiled and now doesn’t know how to act. Don’t give him treats at all, he’ll leave. Either way whatever this grown ass adult does will be your fault. Plenty of men also accepted this logic as fact and so they are raised that the only incentive to court, listen or even just respect women is for a “treat”. Primary incentive to being successful, is for a “treat”. It’s why President H.W. Bush is well into his 90s and doesn’t see why groping women and calling himself David Cop-a-feel is wrong. It’s why President Dotard thinks it’s okay to grab them by the pussy. It’s why President Underwood feels empowered to sexually assault staff on set. (and teenage boys) It’s why President Clinton… (let’s be real here you KNOW a story is coming). They aren’t able to process being told no because they’ve excelled at their craft, received power and influence and therefore are entitled to treats. Woof.

What I find most baffling is like, I know better. I always knew better. And I’m not special. I didn’t need to take a feminism course in college, have a daughter or get dragged by the internet 18 times in my 30s to know better. I just know right and wrong and respect people. Sadly, that’s not as common as I thought it was. Even if I hit for a lick I can’t see how I would ever be so comfortable just whipping it out and masterbating in front of strangers or groping my Twitter followers at a day party.

It’s a new day, now. Even as society (slowly) progresses and proceeds to get all of these creepy dudes up out the paint (except the Dolt45 apparently)…I find myself wondering aloud:

Men don’t know how to process a “reward” from a woman that isn’t sexual.

It’s why so many struggle with the idea of a platonic female friend. They lament the idea of a friend zone because it flies in the face of the logic they were raised on. I’m… Nice to you and you don’t…want to see my dick?404 Error. It’s why so many men struggle with holding a conversation with a woman without flirting. (okay I do this but really it’s because there don’t be shit else to talk about) “What do you bring to the table besides sex” is a common quip but most won’t even notice the new plate setting. The women in their life nurture or fuck them or a mix of them both.

It also speaks to modern dating and being unwilling to put forth any effort to anything that isn’t going to be worth while. It’s something I found myself struggling with at one point…I show interest by courting, she showed interest by affection. After a few dates if there wasn’t any of the sort, I took the curve and went home. Then over time, I met the girl who just wanted sex and company, the girl who “wouldn’t be here if she didn’t like me”, the girl who loved me but didn’t want to be with me. Like…. None of this was in the manual. I was told by apple care that sex was the closer. But it isn’t. For some it might be, others you just caught her on a good night. It would be like if women were individuals who you should treat as such and not just assume they all kick it the same way. Otherwise, you go decades thinking your David Cop-a-feel joke still kills because it worked one time 30 years ago. But maybe, that’s too much like right.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… CUFFIN’

The cuffing season phenomenon is interesting to see in real time. After spending the whole summer pretending to be savages, it’s now time to settle down for a few months. Human beings don’t actually have mating seasons, so it’s somewhat of a placebo affect… Colder weather, more time indoors, desire to spend that time with someone. The end of the year has you in a more reflective state, you have that “epiphany” and do a light contact purge because the days are literally shorter and you have to reclaim as much of them as possible. Personally, I always preferred to date in spring/summer because I’m a dater; when the weather is nice I like going out doing things and knowing who my +1 is going to be. I can Netflix and chill by my damn self. (Stop asking me if I’m still watching you know damn well I am). I much rather be single at Thanksgiving than at a wedding. Don’t worry about who I’m seeing, worry about that soggy ass stuffing no one is eating.

But no one listens to me. So they fall for the cuffing season traps; they panic and spend $63 on e harmony only to find out all the men there look like preachers, they book that flight to homecoming to see the same ex they haven’t wanted in a decade, join that beard group on Facebook. Granted, I’ve fallen for it too. I think this time last year I found myself on a date with a white woman who was entirely too into her improv troupe. Then there was the one who lied about her age. And the vegan. Then the “celibate” one. Then I shot my shot at a friend. (it missed, badly) Then the one who said I wasn’t her type but was willing to try this out anyway. and it was obvious that the “cuffing season” got me. (and with the last one it clearly got her too). All in the name of I don’t want to be single anymore. Just trying to be the “good guy” who is about more than wyd and come thru texts. I could’ve just saved time and money just finding other ways to occupy my time. Like working out and watching Westworld.

Love is dope, as are relationships… When they happen organically for the right reasons. You may already find yourself mid cuff and have to ask the hard questions like, do you really like this person or just hate dating? Do they even like you or just hate dating? Do they like pineapple on their pizza? Is there a future here? Or are you just killing time until peak cuffing season after New Years. (studies* show that after new year’s day, suddenly the list goes from 6’+ to “taller than me”, the distance radius goes from 25 mi to I think I prefer long distance relationships, and all pictures get rotated out to snapchat filtered ones)

*There are no studies

Ultimately, the problem with the idea of cuffing season is not dissimilar to moving back home for a bit or taking a job just to be working again. You look up and it’s been 2 years and you’re no closer to moving out because all your money is going to the food and cable. They shop at Whole Foods now. I’ve said before that no one is “ready” for relationships; just as someone who tells you they aren’t ready to date just don’t want your ass, someone who is all about cuffing season wants comfort…not necessarily you. When they want you it won’t matter if it’s Columbus Day, the first day of summer (or mid divorce). So my advice this cuffing season is to ride out the lonely because dead end relationships are never what’s up. Keep your heart, 3 Stacks. They probably snore and hog covers anyway.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… SAVAGE

What came first, the chicken or the egg.  (Obviously the chicken, it’d be like Adam and Eve being babies).  It’s a causality dilemma nonetheless, you can’t have one without the other.  Much like the savage and the fuckboy.  Behind either one, is some hurt they never sorted out fully and instead became the person who hurted them.  Because feelings suck.  Feeling betrayed by those feelings suck and now you want to make sure you never feel that way again.  And so, you become a savage.  You do what you want to who you want and don’t worry about consequences; they’ll be iight, you lived so will they.  Or they just take that hurt turn into savages themselves and suddenly it’s like Walking Dead, living amongst the savages who ain’t got shit to offer but hurt feelings and wyd texts while you still trying to find something real and avoid becoming a savage your damn self. I mean I’ve done some things whilst hurting (that was a crazy summer).  You find yourself reaching out to people you ain’t seen in ages like “where the wave at”, hitting up old flames knowing good and well they are not the come thru and chill type, meeting and deleting people with the same turnover rate as the White House.  You know you living foul but accountability is a little too close to feelings and you don’t do those anymore, you’re a savage.  

It’s an addicting feeling, feels almost like control.  Can’t get hurt if you don’t care.  And to be fair, why should you?  Why even stress over someone who wasn’t going to be your forever anyway?  There were times when I wasn’t even trying to be a “savage”, I literally ran out of fucks to give.   There were times I got that text and it’s like, I probably could fix this, but I won’t. She was a loud snorer.  I don’t want another smoker.  She was an awful kisser.  I like my Sundays. This is like our 15th breakup.  I don’t even like white women like that anyway.  She cut her hair.  She’s finna move away.   She watches Gilmore Girls.  Everything isn’t worth your time and energy, and sometimes people need to be reminded of that fact. If that’s, as the kids say, savage AF,  so be it.   

*cue Rihanna*

Except… You’re not Rihanna.  Rihanna was coming from a place where she is tired of having to explain every guy she’s seen with on TMZ, you are just pretending you don’t have feelings which literally counteracts science. I can get being exhausted by hurt, lies, and disappointment… But that’s just life.  This newfound era of “savagery” is just low expectations and hypocrisy.  Fairly transparent, at that.  There’s sexual liberation and there’s just being a trash person.  A lesson even I learned the hard way; that eventually every one gets over your shit.   That aforementioned summer ended as the others did, a whole lot of fuck yous only for me to leave off with a petty parting quip.  In the moment, it was savage but in hindsight it was hurt.  Hurt that again I was in this position, hurt in the realization that all of them couldn’t be tripping.  That brushing it off and on to the next one wasn’t fixing nothing, I had to really self evaluate.  As for them, maybe they found someone who wouldn’t waste their time, or maybe they are just savages now.  I truly root for the former, if it’s the latter… Well, sorry.  

So being a savage, creates a savage that may create a savage.  How do we stop the epidemic of misdirected retaliation?   Self evaluation,  for starters.  It can’t just be “men” or “women here”, “Mercury is in Retro Js”, “this generation”… Something is actually wrong.   Lowering expectations and just being a savage is scotch tape on a broken window.  We’re wired for companionship, we desire, we care, we feel… And there’s nothing wrong with that, pretending you don’t for convenience sake doesn’t do anything but infect others.  The irony is, what would be savage is loving freely and openly without fear. Not empty situationships and convincing yourself it’s on your terms.  As Auntie Maya says “Have enough courage to trust love one more time and shit.” (Not a direct quote).  

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… STEAK

It was around this time last summer… 

“So how’s Tequila?” 

“Um, she’s good, but we’re… not.” 

“Oh. Ok”

My sister continued to fix up around the kitchen and mind her black ass business. But she, like our mother, was easy to read and right now she was judging the hell out of me.  I tried to make a case for myself, but the verdict was rendered.  I had gone from being in back to back long term relationships to now, well she couldn’t even keep up with them. Here today, gone tomorrow.  I got similar grief from friends, because that’s what happens when you’re single for a minute, it can’t be all of their fault,  it has to be the common denominator.  Maybe you’re not picking up on the red flags, or maybe you are looking too hard for them. 

 In relationships, we often don’t know when to hold them or when to fold them but refuse to acknowledge maybe we just aren’t good at this game.  No one thinks they’re as bad at dating as they are, just as they don’t think they are bad drivers or average cooks at best.  Men aren’t trying to hear their steak is trash.  Never mind it keeps coming out wrong and you were the only one manning the grill. 

At first,  it was rare steak.  Cold and mushy sorely disappointing.  No one likes rare steak, it’s gross and anyone who does eat it is like 2 steps from cannibalism (fight me). You didn’t purposely make rare steak, you went on one date… But they wore red; this feels too romantic.  Then they put their phone face down which clearly means they have something to hide,and had the temerity to ask what you did, so now they are after your paper… You got to run.  You just put the steak on the grill but the fire is too hot, you snatch it off… And it’s raw as hell. It don’t even look close to done.  What was you tripping about? You should’ve let it cook a little longer, but you panicked and ruined what could’ve been a fine steak.  

You learned your lesson, don’t bail too soon, and you get a new steak.  Like most people who don’t know how to cook, this time you cook on the highest setting because hotter means faster, duh.  After a few dates, the beginning of this relationship is very intense, very affectionate, a lot unearned feelings are professed.  It’s been a 8 weeks but “you’re in love”.  You’re just sure about this.  On the outside, your steak looks cooked to perfection.  In reality, it’s only been 4 minutes.  You take your steak and slice into it and the inside is still very much rare.  This is just as bad at super sketchy gold digger rare steak girl.  Once again, a good steak ruined. 

You take a minute to reflect… What is going on?  You know you know how to cook steak, you’ve had great steak before.  Medium well just the way like you like it. At least it was…but you thought it could use a wee bit more browning so you threw it back on the grill.  Then it got well done, technically ruined but edible.  Others around you say, hey maybe that steak is done but what do they know,  you just keep it on.  You didn’t mean for it to be well done but to save your ego you claim it was done purposely.  So then the steak is burnt and unsalvageable.  It’s the relationship you held on to for too long even when you knew it was probably done. You thought maybe you just needed a break, or you gave an ultimatum or you even took a major step forward and just hoped they would too.  You think things could go back to the way they was when it was good but much like that steak it doesn’t work in reverse.  The longer you hold on the worst it gets until someone finally does something unforgivable when in reality it should’ve been over long before you got there.  With that in the back of your mind, you’re a lot more cautious than you would be otherwise.  So worried about burning you barely let it cook at all… Like that’s any better. 

I think about my situation presently and how an early hiccup probably would’ve sent me running for the door but in fear of once again eating rare steak,  I decided to let it cook a little longer.  Time will tell if I actually got it right this time, all I can do is cook the way I know how and hope for the best.  

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… EXCLUSIVE 

So once upon a time not long ago,  I was on a date with someone, let’s call her… Stacy, and we ran into a friend of hers.  They chopped it up for a second and then she introduced me, this is… *cue Jeopardy theme* “Tristan” I interjected to move this along because I don’t do awkward.  Two revelations came from this; first, she ain’t even bang with this friend of hers in the first place (why do women do this) and secondly, it was the first time she had to actually think about who the hell I was to her.  We had been kicking it for a few months, saw each other often, she even picked up a check… basically, we went together.  Or so she assumed.  She not so subtly brought it up at dinner, “next time you can just say you’re my boyfriend… Or boo…or lover…maybe bodyguard (she realized the hole she dug and recovered quickly, I liked that about her).  We decided I was her unpaid escort/spades intern and swept that “what are we” under the rug. We practically went together and that was good enough. Except… It wasn’t.  I liked someone else actually, I would later end up with that person.  Stacy never asked, I never told.  She just assumed I wasn’t interested in someone else, that was her fault.  Wasn’t like we were exclusive.  

Karma would get me back for that one, as I found myself on the wrong side of an assumed relationship.  Once again, technically she didn’t do anything wrong I never asked, she never told.  (But a WHOLE boyfriend, B. How you fail to mention you got a whole nigga. Not a date, not a hookup, an entire relationship *inhales* *exhales*).  The lesson here could be to never assume, always ask and don’t put all your eggs in one basket because no one else is.  This game cold, diversify your bonds. 2-3 years ago, Today’s word would be Assume. 

But I’m #damnnear30 now, so today’s word is exclusive.  Everyone has a basic understanding of how dating and relationships work, yet when it comes time to be accountable everyone turns into Jeff Sessions.  Asking for exclusivity has become a necessary step in the courting process, but we can all be real with ourselves for a second… It’s bullshit.  If you have to ask someone to stop dating other people, break up with their boyfriend, not sleep with an ex while you’re out of town (this didn’t happen to me it was on a Netflix show), chances are they aren’t that sure about YOU in the first place.  We operate under our free will, not titles.  We do things for the people we like, love, desire regardless of what they are to us, so why do we act as if we need to be told first when it’s convenient?  Are you a Sim? 
Are we at a point where a relationship is some big step in life?  Is this like how we created an upper middle class because the actual middle class is broke? The word “boyfriend” doesn’t sound serious but now it’s practically an engagement.  I panicked at the idea of Stacy calling me her boyfriend as if I wasn’t damn near her boyfriend.  Or is it because boyfriend engenders some level of accountability that a “bae” doesn’t.  We all the security of a relationship, with none of the responsibility of one.  So much so, we’ve extracted this whole concept of exclusivity, because you got to earn the right of me giving up options. Or something.  What do you call someone who isn’t your boyfriend but you’re dating exclusively? (Denial.) 

I knew at that dinner what Stacy wanted and I could’ve cleared the roster and made it real but I didn’t want to and I knew it then.  I did break it off not long after that.  The one I ended up with never asked were we exclusive and if she did my answer would’ve been of course because I wanted her and I’m an adult who knows how things work.  

-Stan-

  

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Today’s Word is… STANDARDS

[Editors Note: Issa throwback…well, with a director’s cut.]


Attractive. Educated. Independent. Sweet. Confident. Compassionate.
(I just described most of my exes. Hell, I just described me.) 

Minimal baggage. Career. Non smoker. Social or not Drinker. Been in long term relationship. Classy.
(Still got most of my exes, a few eliminated, i’m still there)

Knows how to cook. Hair stays done. Always groomed. Puts it down in the sheets. Sense of style.  Body’s stacked.
(Still got some of my exes…no self respecting man will call themselves stacked, that’s where I bow out.)

5’9 and under. In shape.  Knows how to defer to a man. No trust issues. Diversified interests. Mentally stimulating. Great chemistry.
(I’m hearing chatter…now who do I think I am, what am I bringing to the table)

Low maintenance. Good with hanging out at home. Understands discretion.  Can make lasagna. Open minded in the bedroom. Wants kids. Fiscally responsible.
(This negreaux think he Idris or something…)

Standards are funny, as are the people love/hate them. No one ever has issue with standards unless it inconveniences them.  I don’t care that if you’re only chasing 6’4 lightskinned dudes you’re going to miss out on great guys, I care that I’m not 6’4 or lightskinned and I will never be, therefore I’m not invited to that table.  I didn’t want to sit there but now that I can’t, suddenly I want to sit there?  For who, for what? My list was very p.c, however if I got my mac on (You ever read something you wrote years ago and roll your eyes at how lame you were…this was one of those times) and said I want an exotic chick, hourglass figure, all natural…sistas would come for my head.  Reason #1, they’ll be damned if I don’t want them even if they don’t want me cuz…principality. Reason #2, who the hell am I to have such strong demands.

As you get older, and still single suddenly your standards are too blame.  The Beast could’ve let Belle just go have brunch with her girls and they would’ve told her that he’s tall AND has a whole castle, dont. block. ya. blessings. and she’d probably go right back.  Men don’t get it nearly as hard, I can probably hand wring myself to loneliness until at least 33.  Men aren’t told they are being unreasonable, or they are expecting perfection even when they are.  I have a homeboy who for the most part splurges on instajawns and to my knowledge never had an actual girlfriend.  I’m sure his mama might ask, but no one else cares.

Your standards represent you, your priorities, your traits, your aspirations.  It shows if you’re looking to just be treated good, f cked right, or want an actual relationship.  It shows your self confidence and what you believe you bring to the table.  Women say that men are constantly pestering them to lower their standards to accommodate them; I’m actually the opposite, show me you demand all that.  This goes both ways, you can’t be all over the club scene and social media and then demand someone who isn’t all over the club scene and social media.  You can’t demand a woman who’s cultured when all you watch is sports and action movies.  You can’t demand a man with his own place and a car when you staying at a homegirl’s and working part time.  I mean you can demand but spoiler alert, it won’t work out well for you.  Those independent, ambitious people you seek…well, they want other independent ambitious people.
There has to be some accountability for who you choose to let into your life, who you expect to come into your life and how they’re treated when they’re there.  The time spent on people who aren’t on “your level” adds up. It’s a lesson I’m still learning, my phone just full of women who I know weren’t what I was looking for, but #Ihaveneeds.  I can’t be taken seriously if I’m not taking my own standards seriously.  I know what I want and I’m not settling for less (maybe a few things, the lasagna game is non negotiable tho), in the meantime I #minuswhale use my time as productively as possible so I become the offer she can’t refuse.
-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… FLIGHT


The “fight or flight response” is our body’s primitive, automatic, inborn response that prepares the body to “fight” or “flee” from perceived attack, harm or threat to our survival.  You could say the same applies to our overall well being, particularly in dating. Your relationship hits a snag, do you fight or flight?  I feel like the generations before fought; adversity just came with the territory.   We all know of the old married couple who damn near hate each other and now they’ve been married 50 years because who wants to start over even after 10.  Then of course there was the whole women couldn’t work, don’t want to leave the kids, cost of divorce, etc so they just rode the wave of a decision they made at 18 years old and waited for the other to just die already.   The pickings were slim and when you had one you kept it.  Abuse, affairs, aloofness, alcoholism  (alliteration for the win) you rode it out.
These days, having seen what they went through we are flightier than ever. We stay in airplane mode.  It’s easy to move on when every single person in a 30 mile radius is right there in an app.  (Or further than that; if you’re into that kinda thing) Is it an overcorrection?  Perhaps.  Dating has become fundamentally flawed because everyone has one foot out the door because they won’t be the ones looking like BooBoo the fool.  We’ve gone from slim pickings to option overload.  We’re casually moving on the next one and effectively not learning anything. Where’s the incentive to?  I learned recently some women won’t even save your number until you prove yourself.  A contact, B?  We are so dismissive about dating that it’s like why do we even bother?  Or is it we are just really careful.  We hook up, explore options and when we’ve had our fun we turn around and then settle down with no regrets.  Maybe we need a word for the stage when you are dating but are fairly certain you haven’t found your forever worth fighting for.

 My fight was the skrongest.  I fell hard and fast and turned a blind eye to things that I probably knew better to.  Now, it’s a fight to even want to fight.  I’d become a pragmatist, we probably won’t get married so this is just borrowed time anyway.  It wasn’t even that I didn’t care for these women I just couldn’t disabuse myself of the inevitable.  I’m an INFJ, I project and shit.  It wasn’t fair to them (even though I’m pretty accurate with these things), the magic 8 ball in my head told me this wasn’t going to last and I acted accordingly.  Now because of me, she is pretty much over geminis, dark skin, beards, accountants, and dudes with blogs.  So she’s cold to them and they take it our on the next girl. It’s the circle of strife.  

Maybe one day we’ll reach that middle ground where you aren’t hanging on to a dead end relationship but also aren’t blocking numbers because you haven’t spoke in a few days.  Where real feelings aren’t being hidden by passive aggressive memes and being yasssssed by the same home girls who are eyeball emoji’ng his pictures.  I used to be patient, I used to be persistent and even I have to catch myself from sinking the whole island when I’m peeved.  I’ve stayed too long in situations and probably gave up too easily on others. The former likely the cause of the latter.  You fight and get your ass whooped your instinct is probably flight the next time.  And flight is the safest way to go if you never want to be hurt, but it’s also means you’ll never win either.  

-Stan-

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