Tag Archives: vulnerability

Today’s Word is… PILLOWTALK

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There’s just some spaces where a black man feels safe to be…vulnerable. There’s the barbershop, the unofficial country club for black men, where on a good day you’ll leave with a fresh cut, about 3 wild stories, and 4 absurd sports hot takes. There’s groupchats, which are essentially the digital barbershop. There’s the basketball court, where the fatigue of a few pick up games will get the teammate you played 4 games with and don’t even know their name will get a text from a girl and be ready to tell you the whole life story. (This has happened on 3 separate occasions). I’m sure plenty of tea is spilled in a smoke session but that’s not really my ministry. And of course, there’s the ultimate tea house…in bed, laid up next to bae. Don’t let there not be a TV in the bedroom. (you get better sleep when there’s no TV in the bedroom #themoreyouknow) So when Pusha T decided to give an interview about an interview about a 5 month old diss song and drop the plot twist that he got the silver bullet from none other than Drake’s best friend, 40 pillow talking some woman it sounded completely plausible. (For what it’s worth, I don’t believe it, that’s TOO convenient)

We’re all guilty of pillow talking, yes you too Mr real niggas don’t gossip and ladies y’all talk too gon brush your shoulders off. When you factor in oxytocin, the hormone released during orgasms and most closely related to trust and bonding feelings in the brain, it makes sense that after sex one would find themselves feeling most vulnerable and most willing to talk intimately. (So maybe if they aren’t pillow talking, get your bars up). After (good) sex, your body is literally yearning for some more connection such as well, more sex, cuddling, and of course intimate conversation. Boom. Science. I’m well aware that I’m guilty of it, it’ll start off as just a funny story, and then you’re giving backstory, and then weeks later you’re giving follow ups and next thing you know y’all are at dinner and she just blurts out some shit. (I was dating one girl who couldn’t hold water worth a damn smh). It’s almost like dude at the basketball court, we can be laid up I get a text from a friend and I go from quickly explaining what the text was about to telling the story about that time we almost got arrested.

For actual couples, pillow talking is almost essential to the health of the relationship. Just taking some time out to learn something new about each other, Lord forbid you fall in love with someone and find out they eat candy corn or they never listened to Jay Z. It’s an opportunity to be completely vulnerable with each other and you have actual brain chemistry helping your cause. Pillow talking isn’t talking about what you got to do later, rehashing an old fight she lost 3 nights ago but now her groupchat gave her some new points to make or bringing up how you like them but you still seeing other people (be honest they said, she’d appreciate it they said), the bed should be a safe space. Sex, sleep, secrets. A place where you can gossip about your friends and assume it doesn’t come back and bite you in a diss record.

Yet and still, there’s rules to this shit. Such as, watch what you’re saying; there’s of some things you need to keep to yourself no matter who you’re sleeping with. Deep personal things, illegal activity, anything you absolutely don’t want to come out. Then there’s watch who you’re saying it to; know the difference between a spouse where y’all share everything (seriously, you tell a married friend anything assume its a 2 for 1), a significant other where y’all share a lot, and well, what allegedly happened with 40 and ol girl. If we are to believe Pusher Terrence, 40 was coming off that oxytocin high and just spilling his soul to this woman who wasn’t even feeling him like that. Major violation on his side and hers. He should’ve knew better than to be telling an outsider all his business and while she doesn’t owe him anything, it’s still a shitty thing to do. What happens in bed should stay there anyway. You’d like to think you can trust the person you’re having sex with but in this age, nothing is sacred. At least when I be learning entirely too much about her homegirls and their drama it never leaves the bed. (Even if after we fall out and they friend throwing shots on social media, I could return fire but won’t because God is working on me). What’s shared between us stays between us. I say that even as someone who literally writes about his life fairly often. Pillow talk is still inadmissible. I could only wish for the same in return but for all I know I have an ex talking to some new dude about some shit I told her. This game cold, B.

-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… SUPERWOMAN

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I used to be able to read the Iliad in Latin.

I used to know Pi to 20 places.

A Calculus textbook might as well be written in French, which I also used to know. 

I remember their birthday.
Most of their favorite foods.
I remember their relatives.
Stories of their past, their memories forever intertwined with mine as if I experienced them myself.

Eh, give me Latin.

Its a dead language of romance but still more valuable than the language of dead romance that is lost intimacy.  I think about the times I allowed myself to be vulnerable and while in the moment it was a feeling of peace like no other but when the love fades I’m just trying to get them secrets back.  I don’t want to be her and his pillow talk, a funny story she shares during ladies night, (or the subject of a blog, twitter rant, loosely characterized in a novel).  Ultimately, I got to take the L, because generally women want vulnerability.  Not shamelessly open, as she still wants to be one that turns breaks down the walls.  She wants to be Superwoman.  However, men typically aren’t looking to be saved.  At least I’m not.

In my experience, the most vulnerable of men are simply being manipulative. They are way more in their feelings, unapologetically broke, no plans just dreams, grinds no investments.  I look at my sister and Hurricane Buckfoy and all I see is a relationship of duty not love.  Mistresses know of the partner who makes him so unhappy, and she’s the escape. I have a friend who notoriously dates “projects” if a few things come together he’d be perfect but in the meantime she’s his everything and she accepts the role, cape flying in the wind.

Now to keep it all the way 100, I too have used vulnerability for gains.  Men and women both run that “I’m afraid of getting too close” game. I’ve thrown bones just because, nothing really humbling but enough to build some form of intimacy.  Then I’ve really felt close enough to open up to people, shared things I never thought I would. Its almost like an out of body experience, you are telling yourself shut up but you’re just flowing.   She just takes it all in, the secrets, the emotions, the feelings and no burden is too great, she’s Superwoman.  But once its all over, now what? 

Superwoman finds a new person to save, just as I find myself having to start over with a new one.  Maybe in time my Superwomen will become like Calculus, and I’ll become like the lines this one girl forgot during a play in middle school…..see why do I know that but can’t remember C++, this some ol bullshit.

-Stan-

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