I’m moody. I’m turned off by overly anxious, smothering types. I’m impatient and have low attention span. I like to laugh. I like fun, but laid back types. I want romance. I really want a candle lit dinner on a white sandy beach…but I live in Brooklyn. I hate texters. And definitely can’t stand being on the phone several times a day. 1-2 calls/per day is enough…unless I’m completely smitten. I don’t do well with request for pictures via text message. I’m immediately disinterested in someone that calls me chocolate, sexy, or curvy during the 1st conversation. Keep your physical thoughts of me to yourself. I don’t do well with hood love but I like hood things. I want a OG (guy 5-10+ years older than me). I want a black man. I like Rick Ross. I want a tall man. And I would like for you to have a little enthusiasm, motivation and passion for life. I can’t have you being content with basic shit. I like good sex, so please spare me with the weak dick. Most importantly, I need you to be mentally stable and strong enough to support the both of us. I will need your help with our pursuit of happiness.
And this is why I am single.
It took everything out of me not go across his face with my iPad. An old fuck buddy fling recently asked, “Why are you single?” and for a minute, I had no clue. I’m always out. I don’t have kids (not that it matters). And I’m well put together. What gives?
I’ve been single (by choice) for quite some time. I’ve grown accustomed, and intolerant, to mediocre courtship. If something or someone doesn’t necessarily work in my favor, I cut them off. I’m short and borderline cold-hearted. I’ve forgotten how to have fun and accept a date… as a date vs. marriage proposal. I’ve been doing me for so long that I do not know how to be a partner. I’m having a hard time being soft and compromising. I’m not flexible with certain personality traits or open to dating someone that doesn’t meet my ideal man standard. I’ve been hurt. And thus, my opinion about marriage and commitment is jaded. My bad attitude about men, dating expectations and “textbook” standards has cost me quality time during the holiday and possibly a chance at a serious relationship. I’m working on this.
Coming from the Midwest -curvy, thick, voluptuous, whatever you want to call it, is the standard. It’s valued. I’ve never been more concerned about my weight and appearance until I’ve moved to New York. I’ve always been a fly, thick girl and truth be told, I have no desire to be skinny or slim. Living here and working in an industry where appearance and celebs are idolized, has forced me to be on a new workout plan, treadmill, or diet craze every other season. I used to thank God that I took my mother’s coke bottle shape vs. my dad’s linebacker body. My workout efforts used to be geared towards maintaining my build but now I’m starting to feel like my 45” bottom is a little too distracting. So distracting that I was told recently on Okcupid.com…”it’s not attractive. You would be a dime if you lost weight.” I immediately blew the comment off because I try to live by the phrase, “everything ain’t for everybody.” However, his comment did bring to surface a number of thoughts about my “geographical location” and the so-called trendy, standard of beauty.
I’m out almost every weekend. Brunch, mixers, concerts, bars, restaurants, lounges, gym – if men are there, I’m there. As soon as I walk into a building, I’m in classic diva, glam mode with invisible Chanel shades. I’m not approachable. I’m not naturally bubbly. I’ve tried taking a shot or 6 prior to going out and it doesn’t seem to work. My blank stare usually comes across as flirting – therefore I try to avoid eye contact. When I’m not smiling, I’m people watching and posing. And typically surrounded by my girls. It takes a lot out of me to approach men and if forced to be at an event alone, I try to act approachable but end up looking awkward. Besides, keeping a smile on my face is difficult and corny.
My Bad Habits
I’m a sucker for flashy men. I like sceney restaurants and being at the latest “it” event. I work in entertainment and media. A night out on the town, via someone’s corporate card, is usually at a lavish, swanky hotel or bar. I recognize (from a distance) and flock to men with money. I attract and love assholes. I’m not necessarily judging every tastemaker, financier, or doctor – but there’s something about a powerful ladies’ man with a nice suit, Hermes tie, and Rolex that turns me on…even if he isn’t right for me. I have a habit of hanging on because he’s good for show and tell…on Facebook.
My Ideal Man
Speaking of show and tell – my ideal man is a black man. A tall, dark and handsome black man. If he lacks a college degree, he has to be a stellar entrepreneur or skilled trade worker. Ideally, I’d like him to come from similar humble beginnings, have a strong upbringing, a relationship with God, and share similar life goals. I’m not interested in dating outside of my race or ethnic group – thus my selection pool of eligible men is very limited. In fact, I’ll likely never date outside of my race, but will consider swapping my Rick Ross kind of man for a Terrance Howard. Well…maybe not.
Have you ever sat back and reflected on why you’re really single? Are you willing to be open and honest [with yourself] about some of the reasons why you’re single? Are you single by choice? Do you believe that some of the topics above affect you and your “relationship” status?
Check out this infograph on where
the ninjas at to find black men: