Just something I was thinking about. Happy Black History Month & look out for my next piece, 13 Reasons Why I Love Black Men!

Wendy Williams hosts her unconventional dating game where women try to pick a serious suitor out of guys they've been seeing casually.

With the exception of that one guy who says black women should give up dating black men all together, when black men dish out dating wisdom–whether it’s Steve Harvey or Flavor Flav–I listen. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No one knows black men better than other black men. And a wise woman studies her prey. If you want to find (and keep) a good black man, you have to listen to some of the things good black men say, even some of what the bad ones say, so you know what to avoid. Sometimes that means digging through testosterone-driven buffoonery and deep-rooted sexism to find anything meaningful. But there are also those moments when a man’s mind is simply brilliant. Is Your Coochie in High Demand? is one of those moments. From the creator of the hilariously real peek-into-a black-man’s-mind blog Black Girls Are Easy, Is Your Coochie in High Demand? urges black women to get temporary boyfriends. Start calling those men you would never take seriously back because the women in “high demand” are the ones with boyfriends. Take a look at this man’s answer to a question I’ve asked myself for years.

”Why do guys want me when I have someone, but when I’m single no one hollas?” Simple. When you were single you were walking around with an attitude, posting dumb a** love quotes on Facebook, and mean mugging every guy in the club because you thought you were above that scene. Once you find a man you begin to radiate with confidence and every man around you becomes drawn to that fire. When a woman is in a relationship her entire swagger changes, she’s glowing, her hair stays done, a** looks phatter, and she’s no longer using Carmex, she’s Mac’d up and those lips are popping!”

While I’m not the biggest fan of casual sex, I am that dedicated football mom who cusses out the referee when it comes to casual dating. I go hard for it. In fact, I might have haphazardly invented it. What is casual dating? Casual dating is dating simply because you’re a woman and some man somewhere wants to take you somewhere with little to no (closer to no) cost to you. Every woman has a guy (or a girl) in her back pocket. That’s the beauty of having two X-chromosomes. And back pocket people have their uses. There were many a hungry broke night in college where one more bowl of oodles ‘n noodle would’ve left me barely conscious and passed out on the floor from a sodium overdose. On those nights, I simply reached into my back pocket and pulled out a date. I was hungry and I was bored. So why not? You don’t have to sleep with back pocket people. They usually don’t want anything more than you’re time. So why not give it to them? At least until someone more worth your time comes along. Think about how life works. Do people usually come right out of college and jump straight into their dream careers? No. They usually start out with some job they know they can get, make a little money, and look for another job in between ringing up customers. All cars come with an extra tire in the back. We even have a Vice President in case the first one gets shot. The universe thrives on Plan B’s.

Casual dating isn’t for everyone. But if you’re willing to try it, it works. As a teenaged girl, I remember accumulating up to 7 boyfriends at one time–all temporaries. I wasn’t having sex with any of them. I was just having fun. But when a serious contender came along, I dropped them all. The key is having fun with it without being manipulative. I encourage grown women to do it better than I did. Even be honest about it. They don’t have to be “boyfriends” they can just be men you’re dating. Consider them temps and develop a roster of them. Choose men that you’re still attracted to, interested in getting to know, but for one reason or another you know it won’t work out long-term. And hopefully they won’t be looking for anything long-term either. Some of us don’t mind sitting pretty while waiting for Mr. Right. Others of us have a damned good time by our lonesome. You don’t need a man to enjoy single life. But if you’ve got the single girl blues, maybe you should reach in your back pocket for a pick me up.

I Love the Sex and the City writers for staying so true to real life. In the end, the only one who gets the fairytale Love is the one who never stopped believing she could have it.

“Look, if you’re a successful single woman in this city you have two choices,” the blonde one roused. “You can bang your head against the wall and try and find a relationship. Or you can say screw it and just go out and have sex. Like a man.”

“You mean with dildos?” the brunette asked, confused.

“No! I mean without feelings.”

The other two women–another blonde and a redhead–listened eagerly as the first blonde explained a prior sexual escapade where she felt absolutely nothing for the man in her bed. But the brunette’s eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. The concept of “having sex like a man” flustered her. She still believed in romance. And she doubted the blonde’s ability to feel absolutely nothing.

As I listened to these four women talk, I was reminded of the troubled state of my sex and womanhood in the 21st Century. I, too, had gone through a period in my dating life where I approached things “like a man.” I took what I wanted and didn’t particularly care about the other person’s feelings. I called back if and when I felt like it. And I had sex without feelings. So I asked myself if the two-can-play-that-game attitude–pioneered by women in the 90s and carried on by women in the 2000s–really did us any good? It didn’t help me have better relationships with men I wanted to take seriously. It didn’t get me a proposal from some guy amazed by my ability to f**k him and leave him. It didn’t keep me from getting my feelings hurt by men. And it definitely didn’t even leave me with a stack of mind-blowing sex stories . My days of “having sex like a man” resulted in the same thing it often results in for men–emptiness and no true connections. I filled myself on temporary comforts only to end up hungry again. I do not regret experiencing sex without emotion. It created a needed boundary between sex and Love in my mind. But it wasn’t a completely fulfilling and satisfying experience–physically nor emotionally. And as I contemplated what I’d been through, seen other women go through, and the gripes of those four women at the table, I wondered why did modern women want to be like men so badly?? What is so bad about being a woman??

I have a theory. It would seem that us 21st century girls have been suckered into subconsciously hating ourselves. We are overrun with and internalize the sexist propaganda that comes with life in America. We have somehow systemically learned that emotion is in fact weakness. And we’ve distanced ourselves from our abused, battered, and manipulated mothers, grandmothers, and aunts. We have watched them accept things from men (or other women) that we would never accept ourselves. And in our frustration with the women of a different era, we’ve found solace in what we perceive to be masculine behaviors. Instead of being the abused, we’re the abusers, the oppressor instead of the oppressed.

Any woman who actually has “had sex like a man” without any emotional attachment knows how powerful that can make you feel–at least initially. But when it’s time to explain to a man you really like how many guys you’ve been with and he doesn’t really want to hear anything over 5, you feel like shit again. Or when it’s your birthday and you want one of those guys you’re just sleeping with to make you feel special  and you realize that none of them can–and none of them want to. If women were honest with themselves and with their EMOTIONS, we’d realize the truth–that casual sex poses emotional dangers for us. Because at the end of the day, we want to feel Love. Women, after all, were created for Love.

Whether or not casual sex is good for women is a highly debated issue (check out Can Women Enjoy Casual Sex? from Psychology Today). And even though I am leaning more towards the side that says it’s not so great a practice for MOST women, I am in no way advocating that women should NOT have casual sex. I know. Now you’re sitting at home like “wait, but you just said…” I know what I said. I also believe just like the four women illustrated above women do not fit into a single box. There may be women out there like the blonde (aka Samantha Jones) filled with enough self-Love that they do not need life long companionship. I’ve never met them but I’m sure they’re out there. Even I’ve had casual sex that made me feel sexually empowered not because it was so great but because I was exercising my pussy power. I got to say when, where, and how it would be done. And if he didn’t like it, he had to go. What I am trying to say about casual sex is examine your motives as a woman and do not deny yourself your innermost desires. If you want Love (like the brunette and the other blonde), say you want Love.

I’ve come across many women who try to deny themselves their own nature. They say things like “it’s not that serious”, “I’m not that kind of girl. I just wanna f**k”, or “I’m just having fun”. But when the right person comes along, they’re swept up faster than you can say Swiffer. Not realizing that all they are doing is denying their own humanity, they’re own womanhood–feeding into the propaganda that tells us it’s not okay to be vulnerable and emotional and to want a relationship. We feed into the messages that tell us somehow men are more powerful and have more control because they’re less sensitive. But it takes the most strength to be vulnerable–whether you’re a man or a woman. The hardest thing in the world is sharing your heart–not your bed. If you are having casual sex while maintaining the ultimate Love for self  and not compromising on what you want, than by all means “do you booboo”. But do not fall into casual sex because you’re afraid to pursue the Love you want and need. If you put yourself out there for Love, the Universe will not return to you empty-handed.

Hello y’all!!

Omg you don’t know how much I’ve missed you guys!!!!! I cannot tell you all I’ve been through from having my laptop die on me, to dealing with family issues, to finally getting two new jobs–life has found many a ways to keep me from you all. And from my writing. Though these things have been both positive and negative, it feels good to talk to you again. AND what a lovely surprise to come back to my baby, my Misadventures to find that you guys have not abandoned me at all. It seems that November and December were very busy months with record breaking numbers! You guys are still reading me and enjoying me and I Love you for that! Whether you found out about me from Facebook, or Twitter, or Tumblr (Yes, I’m on them all!!!), I appreciate your comments, your eyes, your Love. It’s been a helluva journey. And I got a lot more stories to tell. Many things have changed and others have stayed blessedly the same. So keep spreading the word. Know that even when I’m away, there’s not a moment when I’m not thinking about what I can tell you guys next (Seriously, ask Mr. Right-For-Now who is starting to look a lot more like Mr. Right-Forever hehe)! Anyway, it’s a brand New Year and my heart is filled with so much Love so I just wanted to say Thank You to you guys. Thank You for Loving me because I LOVES me some you! Believe that. If you’re ever lack in Love, there will always be Love here at the Misadventures.

Yours deeply,

Ms. Not-Right-Now

"We are a unit. We have always been a unit. We  function best as a unit." D.L. Smith

Freshly crocheted dreadlocks swung in unison, falling slightly below her shoulders, drawing my eyes to her slim waist and protruding lower half. Covered by a modest dress, she left more to be desired.  She held a torn and tattered Bible in her right hand, indicating hours of studying and living with God’s word.  Her walk embodied soul music, not the kind found on the radio but the kind found on city street corners, poetry lounges, and in Grandparents’ vinyl collections. Her joys and fears, anxieties and triumphs radiated from her skin just as much as the melanin.  We are related–not by blood but by spirit–a match felt most at the heart. Her eyes captivate me, keeping my attention strictly on her mind as we discuss life, love, and our communities. “I wish these black men would step their game up.  Too many of them act so immature and they’re always avoiding responsibility.  Where are all the real men at? … (Sigh)  I’m gonna end up marrying a white man.”  As these words poured from her mouth, I heard the frustration in her voice and watched the despair on her face.  It was as if she had been unwillingly subjected to a life behind bars.  I ask her, “Do you think marrying a white man is helping the problem or hurting it?”  She paused, and then replied, “It’s not my fault there are so few successful black men.  I just want to be loved.”

This is where the problem lies with black men and women.  There is a fundamental disconnect.  It is all of our faults collectively that there aren’t that many “successful” black males and females.  Though we have been systematically separated since slavery, we stay separated partly due to our own mentalities–which are born from the situation the original separation produced.  The oppressor society benefits from us hating each other. It is by design.  Divide and conquer.  As long as we remain at odds with one another, how can we ever expect to rise together as an entire community?  Black men and women need to stop thinking individually and more cohesive.  We are a unit.  We have always been a unit.  We function best as a unit.  Once we begin to think of ourselves as a team then we can look at how society has continually tried to split us up.  We can redirect our anger away from one another and towards an unjust society.  However, in doing so, we must not simply place the blame for our condition against the system.  We have to take on responsibility and hold ourselves personally accountable for our actions as well as the actions of our counterparts and community.

Black women it is your fault there aren’t as many “successful” black men as you would like because when loving black men becomes difficult, you choose the easier route. You condemn us instead of accepting the calling to nurture us.  It takes a village to raise a child.  It takes a bunch of strong, loving black women IN that village to raise a black male.  For you to negatively criticize and condemn black males, without much sympathy towards our collective struggle, you are only part of the problem.  It is easier to shun than to love.  The reason why you have to take responsibility is because no one else will! No other race cares about us the way you do!  Us black men don’t even care enough to save ourselves!  Love produces love and abandonment produces more abandonment.  Please, save me from myself and Love me.

Black men it is our fault our women feel abandoned.  It’s because we don’t take the time to gain the knowledge and realize that we try to play a game that isn’t made for us to win.  As long as we keep playing by the oppressor’s rules, we will continue to fall into the same life traps (jail, drugs, unemployment, etc).  It is up to us to demand change.  We need to be part of a society where our presence is needed and from that we can provide for ourselves and our families.   We have to realize that sellin’ drugs, pimpin’ hoes and blowin’ money fast are community breakers, not builders.  We have to realize that us endorsing these issues only makes us look like clowns. Meanwhile, other communities leave us in the dust.  We must realize that being smart is cool.  And where I’m from (Cheaptown, USA) blowing money fast is NOT COOL.  We too, are also guilty of thinking too individually.   We think having the flyest clothes and most money equates to manhood.  Meanwhile the Gucci CEO doesn’t give a damn about us and our little cousin can’t afford to go to college.  Our women feel abandoned because of the countless “successful” black men they see in society married to white women.  We see the white man as having power.  So we strive to do anything we can do to be like him–even take his women.  He will even encourage us to TRY to become like him but the fact is we will never become him.  When we do so much jockeying in an attempt to be like him, we ultimately turn our backs and look down on our own.

Black men and women it is up to us to take our community back.  It is a shame that 7 out of 10 black children grow up in single parent households.  The cycle will continue unless we take individual and communal responsibility.  No one else will save us.  If we are all surrounded by positive and long-lasting relationships the chances of our own relationship being positive and long-lasting, skyrockets.  So bruh, if it’s out of love, then marry that white girl (Yeah… I said it!). Love sees no color boundary.  But if you are marrying her because you think it will give you status or you will be free from “attitude,” forget it. You’re still gonna hear her complaining about you not being emotional plus the cops, court system, and banks still think yo’ ass is black.   So come on home, at least there will be some good food (with seasoning on it).

To all the black women in my life and to the ones I’ll meet in the future, thank you for saving me.

“I’ma do the best I can do, cuz I’m my best when I’m with you.” – Common – “Come Close To Me”

Just because the sex is great, it doesn't mean you and your partner are compatible!

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Am I the only one that remembers singing this on the playground?

It always seems like a major advantage to homosexual relationships is not having to overcome biological differences. Who better to understand a woman than another woman? Who better to comprehend a man than another man? Which is why gay men often make great friends for women because they embody the best of both worlds. They are full of inside-a-man’s-mind information but they’re willing to share it with you because they’re not trying to get inside of your pants. I’m in no way saying all women understand each other or all men think the same. I’m also not saying gay relationships are easier. Relationships are hard across the board because they involve two people with different ways of perceiving the universe trying to become one. And despite how you may feel about gender identity issues, there are similarities in brain wiring and cultural expectations among the sexes that make it seem like women come from Mars and men from Venus (or Jupiter to get more stupider). So the universe might look a bit different when two people start out on separate planets. I constantly have to jump over the moon of understanding. I don’t get men. I find them strange, unemotional, and crude. Unfortunately, I also find them endearing, intriguing, and they smell amazing (well…some of them do). And most men I know don’t even try to understand women. But no matter which sex you may be attracted to, there’s benefits to knowing things about the one you’re not. Because the world we live in is a crazy co-ed co-habitat. So here’s a list of things Women Should Know About Men from the woman who calls herself The Man Doc.

Hope is a simple healthy relationship technique that we all forget to employ from time to time.

I sat upright in the bed, feeling alone–though he was mere feet away in the other room. Wasn’t I supposed to be happy today? He’d went out of his way to make sure of it. He’d booked a hotel downtown, rose petals on the bed spelled out a vibrant “I Love U,” and he ended the evening with a romantic dinner cruise aboard the Spirit of Washington. Our relationship had just turned a year old and he’d spared no expense. Since I met Mr. Right-For-Now, I’d been dreaming of this day. So why did it feel so empty? Maybe because I knew that we wouldn’t last too much longer than that year I’d desperately hoped for. A few weeks prior to, Mr. Right-For-Now explained he’d need to get more serious about his CPA (Certified Public Accountant) courses. The conversation turned sour very quickly. For him, that meant backing off of our relationship and taking more time to study. For me, that meant breaking up. How could we possibly fix all the problems we have if he’s going to spend even less time than he already is? I wondered. So I prepared to watch my relationship die. It couldn’t possibly work out. My move back home already placed undue stress on us. And I knew we weren’t ready for more. This was it. I could feel it that tense day at my house. And as we sat celebrating how far we’d come, I felt it again.

When I began blogging, I promised to share my relationship mishaps with you in hopes that you would find yourself in me and maybe even find help in me. So I want to make it more clear than it has been in other blogs that I’ve made a mistake that nearly killed my relationship. The idea behind any silent killer–whether it’s the ultraviolet rays of the sun, arsenic, or Ben & Jerry’s strawberry cheesecake ice cream (aka sex in your mouth)–is that you never see death coming until it’s too late. I knew that I could be very logical bordering on cynical in my approach to relationships. I knew that I had a lot of doubts about Mr. Right-For-Now and men in general. I also knew that sometimes it occurred to me that God might even want me to live the rest of my life with cats. But I never considered that these thoughts had the power to kill us.

In psychology, there is a term called the self-fulfilling prophecy. A self-fulfilling prophecy occurs when someone makes a prediction and it indirectly or directly becomes true. This prediction can be about a person or an event. We communicate that prediction with various cues in our body language. People will often respond to those cues and adjust their behavior accordingly. And the prediction becomes true. For example, a teacher meets her students on the first day and notices a girl with dark clothes, dark paint on her finger nails, dark hair, and dark lipstick. The teacher expects this student will exhibit some behavioral problems and won’t achieve. The student feels her teacher doesn’t believe in her or care about her education and consequently fails the course. Outside of psychology, many call this concept the Law of Attraction. The only difference between the self-fulfilling prophecy and the Law of Attraction is that the Law of Attraction involves a little more spirituality. It argues that we throw those cues out to the universe and the universe will respond to us in a way that fulfills that prediction. Whatever you choose to call it, the basic idea remains the same–”what we expect is what we get” (To read more on this idea, check out this article).

I expected that I couldn’t handle the sacrifice it would take for Mr. Right-For-Now to do what he needed to do, therefore I could not handle the sacrifice it took for Mr. Right-For-Now to do what he needed to do. The whole time I called myself “trying to make it work,” I walked around disgruntled, I felt unappreciated, and I cried a lot. I felt wronged. How could he do that to us? Why would he make a decision that forced him to choose between me or his dream? And I began to question everything that year had been about. Did he even really love me? How could he love me if he was so willing to lose me? Doubt attacked every cell in my body and multiplied. Debilitating self-absorption became my cancer of choice. And as my relationship lay sick in the hospital, breathing its last breaths, my heart filled to the brim with an anger I didn’t know I had. I was angry at Mr. Right-For-Now for killing us.

“Are you forgetting that you made the choice to break up?” he asked me, his own anger apparent. Though I didn’t tell him then, he was right. I chose death. I chose to believe every negative thought and feeling I had the day he walked through my doors and said that things were going to change. I believed we would spend less time together but our problems would escalate because of the neglect. I never once considered fighting. I never once considered HOPE. And now we sat in intensive care all because I willed it so–all because I didn’t believe. If something didn’t change, we were going to die.

Love and relationships, like all things in life, have a spiritual aspect to them. And when I say spiritual, I do not necessarily mean Christian if that’s not your thing. I mean they have an essence that’s larger than mankind and can’t be explained by science. I believe Love is a higher power, whether you call that power God, fate, the universe, or the Law of Attraction. It is the one factor that every major religion on Earth has in common. Doctors, teachers, and preachers don’t always have the answers. But Love, true Love, conquers all. When the odds stack up against you and the one you Love, the best thing to do is have HOPE in the power of Love. And the universe will respond accordingly.

“I’m sorry,” I cried, “I was wrong.” I took in sharp breaths as I tried to regain my composure. Even though the next year of barely being in a relationship would be hard, I was willing to hope for the best. Mr. Right-For-Now stood me up and took me in his arms. He squeezed me tighter than he squeezed me in months. He held on to me with everything he had inside of him.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he placed a simple kiss on my forehead. As the two of us decided to choose life, I vowed to always cling to HOPE no matter how small it may be. Because without HOPE, there’s only lack. If you want to fight off the silent killers in you’re own relationships–whether they be distance, communication issues, or actual sickness–invoke HOPE.