Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Don't Be Bullied By Love


When I was in my 20s, I used to date a firefighter. For the sake of his privacy, I'll call him Kevin. So, I'm apologizing now if, coincidentally, there really IS a local firefighter named Kevin who actually did any of the crap I'm about to describe below..."sorry bruh."

Anyway, I remember meeting him in some mall. And my, my, my that man was FINE! He was so "foyn" he could've been the ONLY man in the firefighter's calendar, holding that waterhose from January to December. Not to mention, he was very handsome and had a killer smile with twinkling eyes and the most beautiful, smooth deep brown skin. 

So, we dated for a little while and I was still living at home with my parents. And I remember not always being comfortable with him because he would always try to get me to do things I didn't want to do. Mostly, he wanted to have sex in the house while my parents were home. Or he wanted to have sex in the parking lot when we'd make late-night runs to Whataburger. I never did oblige him and always managed to shrug him off of me, but I knew it wasn't supposed to be this way in a relationship. 

But then his temper started to show. He'd get mad because I would stick to my guns and not have sex with him in inappropriate places. He'd call me names like "punk" and tell me I wasn't a "real woman" and then try to play it off like he was just teasing me. It crossed my mind VERY quickly that if my own father didn't show me that kind of anger, then this man had no right to bare his teeth at me for ANYTHING he believed I'd done wrong. 

The bottom line was this:  I had to get out of this so-called relationship. 

God was talking to me on this one, but I didn't know it back then. I thought I just had a feeling. But now I know it was Divine Intervention. Something in my gut was telling me to let this man break up with me and to let him think it was HIS idea that we shouldn't be together anymore. Something inside of me said that if I broke it off with Kevin, it wouldn't be pretty and somehow...I'd pay. 

So, I stopped answering all of his phone calls. Or, I cut our calls short. I showed up late to the movies. I didn't have much to say on the phone. I didn't compliment him and always managed to talk about myself. And eventually, I made him feel like I got too busy to be with him. And finally, it happened. Kevin broke it off with me. 

I remember when he did it: It was on a Thursday night when "New York Undercover" was on. And lo and behold, this fool called during a commercial break. (Now that I think about it, maybe he was watching it, too!) He mumbled around for a moment, trying to justify what he was about to say to me. And all I could think was, "Please hurry up before my show comes back on." And he did! He was done by the time Malik Yoba's handsome, yet ashy lipped face was back on my television screen. 

I never looked back.

And then one day, Kevin "came up" in conversation. A co-worker's new boyfriend had come to the office to pick her up. He, too, was a local firefighter. She then recalled that I'd dated a firefighter named Kevin. I corrected her to let her know we'd broken it off months ago. But her new beau knew exactly who she was talking about. The next words out of his mouth I will NEVER forget: 

"Oh, you dated him a few months ago? Well, you're lucky because his last girlfriend just caught hell! They got in a fight and he tore up everything in her house! From what I hear, he hit her and she's pregnant. That fool's got an anger problem. But he's always been like that. You're lucky."

"No, I'm blessed," are the words that resonated in my 20-something mind. 

Back then, all I knew in my naiveté was that being with Kevin didn't make me feel good or happy. It made me uncomfortable and I didn't look forward to seeing him at all. And I was so wet-behind-the-ears that I didn't even realize this man was an abuser. He'd started by trying to get me to do things I didn't want to do. Had I stayed with Kevin any longer, he would've abandoned taking hits to my ego and begun hitting my face. I'm sure of it.

(Note to readers: I respect that some of you LIKE to have sex in parking lots and while your parents/friends are in the next room. Honey, do what you do! Get yo freak on!! The point here is I DIDN'T WANT TO and the standards I established for myself were not respected.)

There's no room for abuse in love, or in life. I've never been spoken to that way again, and I've never been a psychologically or physically abused woman. Nor will I ever be. I'm really happy with the way God arranged my face and my body -- none of it needs rearranging, thank you!

I really do love and respect myself too much for that bull.  


Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.




Monday, August 2, 2010

Does Having A Man Mean I'm Being Demoted?

Us single girls pretty much do it all. We earn the bacon, bring it home and fry it up in the pan. We buy our own homes and we clean them. We plant flowers in the front yard and mow the lawn. We go out for happy hour and sometimes foot the bill on dates. And the single moms are doing all of the above while helping with homework, playing chauffeur to an overbooked 8-year-old and pulling double-duty with the laundry. We're at family picnics, shopping at the 3rd coming of the Macy's once-a-year sale and somehow squeezing in Passion Parties. Whew!

Then we meet the guy who wants to be THE MAN in our lives.

Don't get it twisted. We want him here. We're happy he's here. Just by the list I've described above, we need the help. Super Woman needs her Super Man, 'cause let's face it...we're tired!!!

So, what's the problem?

Single ladies have heard from every man in their lives from their pastor to their papa that we need to "let a man be a man." And we want to do that. But it occurs to me that it's easier said than done. Why? Because letting a man be a man means that, in my life, I have to take a demotion. Wow!

Think about it. All this time, I've been the CEO, the board chair, ALL the vice presidents, the secretary, the treasurer, the chaplain and the doggone sergeant-at-arms. And somehow, I'm supposed to give up the CEO seat, relinquish a couple of them-there VP positions and step down to maybe one VP seat, secretary and part-time treasurer???

I mean, that's like asking Wonder Woman to un-ass her Golden Lasso or to share one of her sparkling, bullet-repelling bangles. I can already feel my left hand perching on my left hip as my neck starts the slow swirl, and my right index finger twisting in the air with my lips all fixed to say: "Excuse Me?!?"

Now, I know good and well that in the land of reasonable people, no business or enterprise should be run by a board of one. So, the scenario of me holding all the board positions in my life isn't a great idea. I SHOULD be relinquishing some of these seats to my man. (After he proves his trustworthiness and capability, of course. Mama ain't raise no fool!)

But to some degree, this explains why it's so difficult for some women to adapt to having a man step in and do what a man naturally wants to do for a woman. We're not fighting you because we don't want you to step into your role, but you're asking for us to let go of something we've had a sleeper grip on for anywhere from 1 to 10 years. It's not easy. (And just to be clear, this goes way above and beyond reaching for the door knob and pulling out my own chairs. I let go of those things a long time ago.)

So, when I shared this revelation with a close male friend of mine, admittedly looking for a couple of high fives and a fist bump, he flipped the script on me. (gasp!) He explained to me that as a bachelor, he too had learned to do it all for himself -- the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry and the grocery shopping. And a few of the women who'd made it into HIS inner sanctum were disappointed when he didn't let them cook for him or help with the laundry.

"Mish, she actually said to me: 'Well, if you can do it all, what do you need me for?' " he recalled. And she wasn't the only one who'd said it to him.

So, the way I see it, none of us are too eager to just be giving up VP seats and treasurer positions so quickly. It's going to take time to bring on a new board of directors and make it all work. There's a comfort level we all have to abandon when bringing a new person into our lives. And when you're already pushing 40 or are already past 40 years old, it becomes and even more daunting task.

So, on behalf of myself and the single ladies "holding it down," I'm asking the fellas for some compassion and some time. Our lives can sometimes be like a house of cards, one small bump to the table and it all comes fluttering  down. And gentlemen, we'll work on extending the same courtesy to you.

After all, what are we talking about here? Swapping the yard work for cooking dinner? I'll take it!

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

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