Tag Archives: Relationships

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… SELFOFSTEAM

There’s no bigger ego stroke than someone falling in love with you.  For that someone that you was once just a stranger, a casual acquaintance, a classmate and now you’re everything.  We all have varying values on sex, some can’t sleep with someone they don’t love while others will swipe right get their itch scratched and maybe reminisce about it on a random cold evening.  In either regard, having someone fall for you is the true conquest.  Hell, just having someone is still viewed as the ultimate validation.  While it’s more commonly used to shame women, in reality it’s moreso men who truly get their #selfofsteam and confidence from their romantic relationships.  We’re the pursuers after all, a woman is as single as her options while a man is as single as his efforts.  Men aren’t above getting their Chante Moore on, especially with a bad one.
What about the man without that validation?  No one wants to be the old head at the club or the 40 year old bachelor on tinder who has never been in love before and now your date’s friends are wondering what’s wrong with you. (Basically, gotta have experience, but can’t have baggage. Dating is stupid.)  Toxic as it may be, we still equate manhood with our appeal to women, and if you don’t have no sauce you’re lost (Gucci Mane, 2013). 

 So naturally, there was a time where that was where I got all my confidence from.  Didn’t matter what anyone else thought of me; she thinks I’m funny, she thinks I’m fly, she loves me.  Then one day, she didn’t.  It left a void in my self worth.  Was I not those things anymore?  But reflection and growth took too long so, I just found another woman who did.  I could start over, charm, court, woo…be everything she was looking for and in return I would get validation.  I found someone, so clearly it’s not me it’s her.  Then when that flamed out, oh look there’s another.  I could keep going hunting and hunting, never really learning from my flame outs because they’ll always another woman who’s waiting for someone like me.  Except, I wasn’t even someone like me anymore.

The relationships themselves were burning out quicker each time.  The cure had become the disease, now I was tripping over every fall out with women, even the ones I wasn’t even sure I liked.  I just liked being Prince Charming. Meanwhile, she couldn’t even tell me what my favorite color was.  I couldn’t tell you what I liked most about them. My dating life had gotten aimless, I just got into relationships because that was the right thing to do and it wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.  I had become lost in the sauce, just as Gucci warned.

It was a year ago today actually, I found myself listening to Views, rolling my eyes at Aubrey’s arrogrant attempts at affliction (alliteration ftw) and coming to the realization of….wait, that’s me.  Was my ego out of control, or was it always just low self esteem? I went with the former, because why would I cop to low self esteem?  The issue was I was just picking the wrong ones…purposely. Yeah, that was it.  Now I had Tequila, someone who I knew I wanted from the moment I saw her.  Failed spectacularly.   She said I couldn’t love her because I didn’t love myself.  I pffffffft’d.  I moved on and she’s…well. (there was gonna be a parting shot here but I’ma rise above).  

I’m my best me when I have someone, when I’m happy…as most men are.  The love and support of a good woman is the ultimate glo up.  How else are you going to learn to use real garlic instead of garlic salt, invest in quality bedoing and stop hanging up posters with scotch tape. Some are happier with a plethora of women sweating them whilst remaining single and then you know, sup Carmelo.  Seldom is it just a nut, it’s affairs, situationships, strings attached maybe it’s all just a result of low self esteem and unable to be content with I got mine and I’m good.  Contrary to popular belief we aren’t just dogs with no impulse control, we are self aware adults who just long to be validated. Over and over again.   Or something.  Shrug life.

-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… VIEWS

So, I miss her.  

I miss her quirkiness, her creativity, our chemistry. 

I miss the way I was when she was in my life, I was excited, optimistic, ready to conquer the world.  She was my muse, my peace, my hope.

With every subtle reminder, every drop of alcohol that lands in the pit of my stomach, every moment alone, I want to plan a comeback.  I can surprise her somehow, maybe write her something from the heart, maybe this post, I mean she used to love my writing. If only I could remind her I used to mean as much to her as she me.

But what’s the point?  Maybe we can reconnect for a couple weeks, a few months, even a handful of days and while I would treasure every minute…it’d still be temporary….

I wrote that 2 years ago about someone.  2 months after that, I met someone I could write that  same thing about now.  2 years from now, I can…..well lets not put that in the universe.  As I roll over in an empty bed, I can sell myself on the fact that I’ve already lost the love of my life.  Nostalgia  never remembers the details,  just the feelings.  It’s the same reason people are still wasting their money to see Lauryn Hill perform an album she doesn’t have clearances for, or why Fuller House exists. 

This crossed my mind as I listened to Drake’s “Views“; wondering where was this dope album everyone else was hearing because this sounds like a half hearted sequel to his second best album.  Anyway, listening to Drake wail over tracks about women he wants everything except a relationship from, my main takeaway was; ego is a hell of a drug.  You love, you lose, you move on but ego….ego can’t take it lying down.  A recurring theme on Views, is the idea of loyalty, and Drake, like most niggas, wants stability and security of a relationship but without the whole commitment thing.  He’s not even talking about winning them back, doing better, it’s just blatant manipulation and guilt tripping because how dare they not take the raincheck of love he’s offering. Drake’s whole steez is finding women starving enough that his crumbs look like Thanksgiving.  He could have them if he so chose (because he actually wants someone he deems an equal); he merely wants them to never be over him. (Because a stripper should be grateful he is treating her like a human).  That is megalomania.  Over calypso beats. (Or as I call it Drakeggaeton)

Listening to Views and being so put off, I then had to look at the man in the mirror.   I’ve definitely used the “let’s just be friends” to carry on a one sided open relationship.  I’ve sabotaged ex’s new relationships, I may have literally quoted Hotline Bling to an ex (facetiously).  I’ve taken it personal when women decided they just can’t with me, when in reality one of us needed to pull off that band aid.  (Not like anyone goes anywhere when I do it anyway…but whatever I’LL be the bad guy).  Bringing it full circle, lately I find myself missing someone who frankly, doesn’t deserve me.  The temptation arises to try and fix things, tell myself its closure, tell myself I thought we were friends…but really her presence in my life would serve as nothing more than ego feeding.  Ego is a hell of a drug.

The way this life account is set up, you only get one.  You only need one.  Unless you bout #thatlife. I’m not. Looks exhausting.  As annoying as dating and searching is, its very convenient to just take oddments of affection from what you know already.   It’s even more convenient to offer it.  I can have my ego stroked by a bunch of maybes or be fulfilled having my one.  Perhaps a mix of both except Tequila might cut someone.  I’ll take the former.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… VULNERABLE

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We all somebody’s “leftovers”, “one that got away”, “I always wanted to fuck a ______”.  Yes, even you over there.  We break up, make up, meet and delete and over time it accumulates to form baggage.  Baggage does get a bad rep, its often viewed as rooted in insecurity, or mistakes that shall follow you forevermore. In reality,  our life experiences, both the good and the bad, shape how we think, what we value, and who we are and who we hope one falls for.  Yet, we try to hold it off for as long as possible, burdening ourselves.  It’s like walking down a long hallway with your hands full of groceries (because two trips are for bitches) waiting for a safe place to drop it off. 

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Conventional wisdom says men aren’t vulnerable, men don’t share when in reality while we’re a little cautious, most can’t wait to lay it all out there on the counter. It’s a relief to just be able to emote, confess, reflect to someone.  Being Superman is exhausting, sometimes you just wanna be Clark.  For example, I’m Clark here.  I can say whatever is on my mind to nameless faceless readers I don’t have to think about what they think of me.  Most people close to me have no idea about the blog or ever will…I prefer to write without any fear of who might read or take something the wrong way.  (Then there’s the nickname jinx).  I also have a friend I can be Clark to…she’s patient, kind, and loving. At times I wonder that if there was romantic interest on my part would I be as open of a book to her?  Don’t think so.

Women that I am romantically interested in, they get cool, confident, unbothered.  (But women want the REAL you..flaws and all…..eh, eventually.  In small doses. That they extract themselves. Not incessant bitching and worrying.  Don’t debate me. I’m right.) “She” started off as my best friend, she got the vulnerability, my girlfriend at the time got the benefits.  When we actually got together, I made the same mistake. I was more Superman than Clark; work was “fine”, “nothing” was bothering me, I ain’t crying, I got allergies.  There wasn’t that comfort level to let her all the way in, and I still almost married her.  Next few women, I overcorrected wore everything on my sleeve and when it ended I couldn’t help but wonder if congratulations, I played myself.

So now, I find myself….besotted with someone and as the glow of newness fades away, I think we find ourselves facing each other in that long proverbial hallway holding our respective baggage wondering where do we set it down at? 

So Im like, “The hell if I know, every time I leave it somewhere it turns out to be the wrong idea.  Maybe I could just keep leaving it at a friends?  At least until I’m absolutely sure.”

And she’s like: “I’m accustomed to handling my own shit; in a 2016 kind of world I’m glad I got my girls.  Men just try to fix everything anyway, I dont need all that right now.” 

Stalemate.  For now.  Even though we both know that if so maybe this is going to be something it can’t just be dates and laughs…it feels like we know each other more than a little bit but at the same time not really.  Not that we’re in any rush, for now its chill. 

I guess what I am curious about is how and why its so much easier to unload on some and not others, is it just a vibe thing?  Does young metro not trust this woman?  Am I gunshy now? Is it I’m getting the intimacy I require elsewhere?  Maybe I just don’t want to.  Friends, family, lovers…everyone doesn’t need to know everything. Do they?  Total help meh sang.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… FRANKENSTEIN

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When you think of Frankenstein, you think big green monster not the egotistical, nefarious man who created him.  Hell, the thing isn’t even named Frankenstein, but whatever.  I say that to say this, too often we look at the “monster” created and not the creator.  The abhorrent ex, crazy baby mama, the bitter friend, the jaded lover….its easier to just call them out for what they are and not look at who or what made them that way, that would require personal accountability and you just cant go for that like Hall and Oates.  I’m the friend you begrudgingly ask for advice because I’m almost always going to circle back and ask you about the role you played.  (Listens to groans from the “let me vent” crowd).  Monsters don’t just appear, someone caused their creation, whether they want to admit it or not.  I’m guilty of it too, I’ve created my fair share of dating Frankensteins and at least in hindsight I can look back and say, maybe I shouldn’t have led her on, maybe I could’ve communicated better, or that was just rude.  Sorry and whatnot. Others, however, can live in a world of delusion, wondering “why me” because they cannot bring themselves to realize they are the cause of the problem.  Its easier to just say the other person is tripping or not all there. 

For example, just recently a situation arose between a relative and the mothers of his children. (I won’t divulge cuz #familybusiness) His opinion is the usual; they just crazy, he doesn’t know why this keeps happening to him.  To his point, they not the brightest bulbs in the lamp. Then logic sets in and you realize, these things don’t just happen to people.  If it was a book, you would be like “this is a major plot hole” but in real life we make that leap all the time. People don’t just sweat you for no reason.  Women you never slept with don’t just claim you fathered your child (unless you’re famous).  People don’t just catch feelings for people who aren’t leading them on.  Friends don’t just do couple-y things for no reason (pewn..shot fired).  We know these things, we understand them apparently yet we carry on as if we don’t.  That’s not to say “Frankensteins” don’t naturally exist; (*thinks about the absurdity of this sentence*) plenty of people are just unhinged and obsessive. But they are the exception, not the rule.  Most of the time you’re just being an asshole and wont admit it.

We live in an era where people tend to act insouciant to everything, cant react, cant communicate, whomever loves first loses.  People (especially men if we’re being real) are barely allowed to emote anymore.  Its become far too common to be an asshole, and then label the offended as if it came from nowhere.  Behind most insecure “Frankensteins” there’s someone who didn’t reassure them, behind most sensitive “Frankensteins” there’s someone oblivious to how they’re interpreted, behind most emotional “Frankensteins” there’s someone who couldn’t communicate.  The havoc they wreak that’s on you, and well if someone dates any of mine…..my bad.

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… OVER

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So it’s the same old story; boy meets girl, boy courts girl, boy dates girl, boy dumps girl.  Now its a shame she has to go through this, they don’t even talk, they don’t even kiss, and she never thought they’d be breaking up like this, but its over now….its over now.  Theoretically, no one owes the other anything once the relationship is over but there’s a decorum expected after a breakup.  Take some time to mourn the relationship, don’t try to reestablish contact when the wound is still fresh, don’t smash their homies or besties.  So then comes that awkward phase of seeing who blinks first and starts jumps back into that dating pool.  Personally I rather ladies first; in my experience I’m able to stomach that ego hit better than some of my exes.  They were so fixated on trying to salvage the relationship that if/when you date again its going to be a punch in the gut. I’ve been on that rescue mission before only to look up and see she’s already moved on……it sucks.

We all have egos, we all have this myopic view of self that says “replace me? Good luck” (see 85% of women R&B singers) only to be humbled that they found someone more attractive, someone who makes more, hell just someone who makes them as happy as you did….maybe even more.  Rather than accept this, we try to rationalize; it was way too soon and must’ve had him/her on deck for months, they never loved me they used me otherwise they’d be still listening to Drake and lurking my Facebook.  We accept a breakup as they don’t want to be in a relationship not that they no longer want to be committed to us, the glaring difference between the two is that one is accountable one is not.  Its a copout most break uppers will take if offered, “I got some things going on” “if not for XYZ” and they leave the relationship with a glimmer of hope that someone will take and hold on to for dear life.  I’ve seen it…..I’ve done it. 

I was talking about this with a couple friends, the most respectful timeframe to give a failed relationship before moving on (had to give a definitively timed answer).  Not surprisingly the longest answers came from women, from 3 months to 1/3rd the length of the relationship (when we get to using algebra we doing way too much).  One said they wouldn’t even date a man less than 12 weeks removed from their last relationship.  Male consensus averaged to about a month, I said about 6-8 weeks.  Of course people grieve differently, but in a month or two most couples should either worked it out or accepted that okay, this is over.  You get evicted 30 days, you pawn something 30 days, 6-8 weeks is being generous by those standards.  Also, you’re not even owed that, it could be 6-8 hours and all you can do is buy the 11 millionth copy of Adele’s 21 and get over it.  Or just be so amazing it can’t possibly take 6-8 weeks to get over your ass. Like I am. Just saying.

-Stan-

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