It’s a Date!

Warning: I have never once claimed that my personal brand of crazy is rational.

Today I did something I have been avoiding for my entire adult life. I took myself to eat, alone, at Olive Garden. Now, I know that sounds silly and it’s just Olive Garden, but for some reason the idea of doing this very thing has been scary and caused my tons of anxiety just thinking about it. I’ve tried to figure out why. And the most logical thing that I can come up with is that for some reason, the idea of taking myself out to eat at a sit down restaurant, pretty much solidified my perpetual singlehood. Again. Not logical. I don’t think this for other people when I see them out to eat alone or my friends when they do it. I actually envy them. But for me, somehow, taking myself out to eat at a fancy restaurant (lol yes Olive Garden is still fancy to me) just somehow meant I had officially accepted my singleness and was the first step to many a single restaurant date. If you are judging me right now please go read the warning again.

So, I went to Olive Garden…and I didn’t die. I don’t know yet if I really enjoyed it but I’m sure I’ll do it again. As I sat there, I thought that the couple on the other side of the room would be what made me most sad but I didn’t really pay them much mind. What did make me a little nostalgic was the table full of old ladies next to me gushing over their one friend’s new hair cut. It reminded me of my friends. It reminded me of Leanna and I’s many cathartic lunch dates at Olive Garden. It made me miss my friends more than it made me yearn for a partner to go to eat with. Though that would still be great.

Prior to all of this I started thinking up a list of potential date ideas. As a single 30 year old woman, I can count of both hands and maybe require the assistance of one set of toes, the number of dates I’ve been on. If I don’t count random meetings at Walmart or parking lots, then I don’t need the toes. So needless to say I’ve had quite some time to think up some really awesome date ideas. Or at least I think they’re awesome.

So here goes:

Dinner and a movie! Duh. The classics are a must. I’m not picky at all. Feed me and take me to a movie and I’m a happy lady. A few variations… movie and then dinner!! Lol just kidding. But there are those fancy theaters uptown where you can eat real food at the movies. Or a double feature where each person picks a movie. Or show up at the movies at a random time and watch the next thing showing.

Book store date. I love reading. If you can suggest a good book you’ll have a piece of my heart. So we go to the bookstore. You pick out a book for me. I pick out one for you. Then we find a nice cozy spot somewhere around town to read. Or we get the same book and read and discuss. This I semi did once but the guy was cheap and ordered his book online and before it arrived we had stopped talking. I still read the book. It was great.

Netflix binge. This is maybe after we’ve been dating for a while. But a good Netflix binge is always nice on a rainy day. And depending on how long we’ve been dating and how serious it is it can totally be an official Netflix and Chill.

A museum. I hear Charlotte has tons of museums. I’ve only ever been to the Museum of the New South. That was once in middle school and twice in high school for prom. So those two don’t count. So let’s go see some cool museum stuff!

Trampoline park. Disclaimer. I like these places but am super out of shape so I can only bounce for like 5 minutes at a time.

Charlotte is always having some sort of festival. Let’s go! Bonus points if it’s a festival about something neither of us knows anything about (or the renaissance festival).

Anywhere but Charlotte! Again, maybe for later on after I’m certain you aren’t a serial killer. But road trips are cool. And it can totally be a random day trip just to try some fancy ice cream in a random town. Let’s just go!

One of those paint classes. Or that pottery painting place. Arts and crafts are fun even if you suck at them. The paint class doesn’t even have to be a couples one because what are we each going to do with half a painting. And if we go at night we can bring wine! Same for this pottery painting place I know of.

Clearly this is not an exhaustive list. There are a million other things that could be done. The most important part is who you’re with and the time spent together. Which has me thinking? Why am I waiting around for someone else to take me on a date and to do these things. Like I said. The most important part is who you’re with, that can be a partner, friends, family or yourself and the time spent together. As long as your having fun and getting to know whoever you are with…IT’S A DATE!!!

So, what are your favorite date ideas?!?!


I forgot

A comedy show. Doesn’t have to be Katt Williams (but if it was that would be awesome) even a local amateur night could be fun.

A concert. Someone huge or someone just up and coming. There’s always a concert going on. Fun story. A guy once stopped talking to me because I told him that if we went to the Drake concert I would be excited but wouldn’t be like screaming with my hands in the air the whole time. He said that if I wasn’t going to have fun then he wasn’t taking me. He struggled to understand everyone doesn’t show they are having fun the same way. I’ve dated some gems really.

You Can’t Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

So at first glance that statement is often confusing to me. Why not? It’s my cake! I should be able to eat it! A quick Wikipedia search though clarified it more for me and it makes sense. In essence you can’t have/retain/keep your cake but at the same time eat it because then it will be gone. You can’t do both. Either you want to look at the cake, have it in a dish for all to admire but never actually experience it. Or you want to devour it, consume it and have it be a part of you forever. An extra inch on your waist or dimple in your thigh. However, you just can’t do both.

Anyone else want cake now?

So, prior to my search for clarification, I came up with a better metaphor that fits what I want to say. And yes, this post is about relationships (or lack there of) because what else do I have to write about.

So, I fancy myself a semi-decent amateur baker. I always say whenever I get fully burnt out from counseling and quit a job in a fit of rage and decide to do something different with my life, I’ll open up a quaint little bakery called “Anything but Coffee” where I’ll just wake up every day, bake whatever I feel like it, so you could essentially get anything…but coffee because coffee is gross.

(One time I made peanut butter chocolate spread for a co-worker and the dream started)

So, while you definitely can’t have your cake and eat it too you know what else you can’t do? Expect to constantly get cake without contributing to the process! Baking is expensive! Eggs, flour, milk, good vanilla, spices, pans, electricity. That shits not cheap! And it takes time. I spent three evenings this week baking until 11 or 12 at night as a way to say thank you to my co-workers as I was leaving the job. I did it because I wanted to. And my payment back was the many thank you’s, some jokes of it not tasting good, the euphoric faces as people tasted it and apparently almost sending someone to the hospital over some double chocolate brownies. When I bake out of love there’s not enough money in the world someone can pay me to do it.

But we aren’t talking about actually baking! We’re talking about relationships.

I’ve learned a few things about myself over the last year.

1. Had I learned these things a long time ago life may have been easier in the relationship or lack there of department

2. I can’t beat myself for not learning it sooner

3. Change is hard

4. When I love, I love hard. Whole heartedly, unashamed, no questions. I’m just like a fountain over flowing with love for this other person.

Things I’ve learned about other people

1. Most people find that very overwhelming and if it’s not what they are looking for they will run for the hills every time.

Back to me:

5. I do this when I just like someone too.

I have sat around thinking for countless hours, why it is that I can go from not knowing someone to head over heels crushing on them with little to no information about them. “Oh you’re paying me some attention…awesome” and my brain automatically starts planning out insane details about the time we will spend together.

I wish I knew who or what to blame. My dads always been there for me so I can’t blame not having a male role model in my life. Sometimes I want to blame Disney movies but even those stupid princesses put up a fight. But here I am, not so patiently waiting for someone to show up and want to receive all this love I’m about to spontaneously combust from holding in.

And I don’t think it’s inherently a bad thing. Wanting to love someone unconditionally and completely is not a flaw (though people will make you feel that way and then you will make yourself feel that way). I have realized my trouble comes in that I’m just ready to give it to anyone who shows up. And without fail, they don’t want it an I end up hurt.

But more specific to that here’s what usually happens.

They show up. I get excited. I’m ready to be all in. They can sense this and back out…BUT…they don’t actually back out. They want the option. They somewhere deep down know “one day, this is what I’ll want. Not today. But one day I should and therefore let me see what I can do to keep her around until that day.”

Here is a short incomplete list of ways this typically happens:

Hey stranger text

Just checking in text

Can we still be friends

The Fuckboy Backout (see my fellow bloggers post for reference if you are unaware of what this is)

Let’s just take it day by day

And my personal favorite (insert sarcasm there): begging for a chance to make things right once I finally walk away and they realize what they’ve lost but still having no intention of doing anything different.

So basically, they want the cake, but they have absolutely zero intention of contributing to the cake making process. They appreciate that I show up with a whole damn cake ready for them to devour but have no intention of helping me make another one. Then their like “wait…that was the best cake I’ve ever had. Why isn’t there anymore… you just gonna leave and not give me anymore cake.” Yes. Yes I am because you took what I had and forgot to bring me more groceries to make another!

I can be a limitless supply of cake. And a lot of the ingredients just come naturally. But some have to be contributed. Or maybe I just need an oven to bake it in. Idk. I may need to think the metaphor through some more. But you get the point. And before you even start. Yes. I can be both the baker, the ingredients, the supplies and the oven. How do you think the new cake that the new man gets is made. Self-esteem, self-love and putting the pieces back together after the last idiot ate the cake and ran without paying the bill!

So moving forward, my goal is to not so easily offer up the cake. Pay attention to whose just eating the cake and running away and who is actually trying to invest in the cake making process. Everyone does not deserve my cake.

And if you don’t know already…ask about me…I bake a mean cake (and cookies, and cheesecake).

What is Intimacy?

I am plagued by a deep desire for intimacy and connection within all of my relationships and friendships. I call this a plague because often people are not taught to be intimate and vulnerable with one other, and particularly in heterosexual romantic partnerships and so it feels like a curse most of the time.** While I’ve had success with intimacy with my female friends, men, on the other hand, continue to be a challenge.

When I say intimacy, I am not describing something that necessarily is sexual. I am describing the gentle way in which we lean into one another for support, care, and safety. I am describing the desire to know someone beyond their outer shell and take the time to understand someone from their perspective. I am describing curiosity, and genuine love for another human being, because you can see their light that connects them to you. I am describing empathy, placing yourself in their shoes and relaying to them, that you too are human. I am talking about soft kisses on foreheads and lips, arm caresses with no expectation, and soothing hugs. I suppose this is an emotional type of intimacy.

It seems to me, at least in my experiences, intimacy is often a second hand thought or something expected to be a by-product of everything except vulnerability, and often, derived from sex. My experience has been that sex alone rarely leads to intimacy; that intimacy is intentional, requires more work, and requires a certain aspect of emotional availability and maturity than sex. This quote speaks to me about that.

“It’s easy to take your clothes off and have sex; people do it all the time. But opening up your soul to someone, letting them in your spirit, thoughts, fears, future, hopes, and dreams – that’s being naked.”

We aren’t truly naked enough with each other and yet, we want and expect others to be physically naked with us. We do this often with false promises of true nakedness that never comes; “Let’s see where this goes” or “go with the flow.” Sex itself is just sex, and perhaps in some circumstances, a gateway to intimacy, but it has never been that for me. Perhaps it is the way my brain has been wired – part genetics, partly influenced by trauma – but to trust someone who has only seen me physically, but does not make an effort to know my spiritually and mentally (and I’m not talking about religion here, I’m talking about my inner being), is near impossible for me.

I have never had sex with someone that I felt intimately connected to in my adult life. Sure, I’ve loved them. But I did not feel the intimate connection that allows sex to transcend the physical and become something supernatural. I have never had a man try to get know me, understand my intricacies and apply that to how he loved and cared for me, both in practice and in sex. In turn, I have never felt 100% safe with a partner. I am admitting this now, but it is painful and weird to say that out loud and to the world. And I know that the key to this is a deeper level of intimacy. But how do we even go about building this? Does this even exist?

I wrote a post recently about the love I crave and I think within that are many metaphors describing what my ideal relationship; freedom, independence, interdependence, passion, and also intimacy. I once had a garden and although a lot of work, it never felt that way, because I loved the work it took to tend to it. I felt connected to it. I spent time looking at it, admiring it, learning about it, and trying to listen to what it was that it was saying that it needed. I gave it quite a bit of my attention and enjoyed sitting with it quietly. It also made me laugh and we had hiccups here and there, and we recovered together. Growing a garden is a very intimate affair, whether you know it or not. And truly committing to a relationship also requires this (and likely more) great deal of intimacy – at least for someone like me.

I wish that we could learn more about what it means to be intimate with one another and not to shy away from it. I wish we could see that some of us need safety and intimacy to thrive, and understand how that contributes to an invaluable amount of love. And for some of us, that fertile ground of intimacy and safety, can lead to the best sex, and even more worthwhile, love of your life. That every time you say, we can’t be more emotionally intimate because we just met, and yet expect someone to disrobe for you and be fully present for sex, in some ways you diminish the ways that sex can be intimate, that each time I try to tell you something about me or is core to my life, and you quickly switch to asking me about the color of my panties or sexual fantasy, to every time you kiss or touch me with only an intention to have sexual relations, that you create more distance, that you get further from your goal, that I mentally dismiss you, and for some of us, you may even make us feel used or detached.

I am not sure I can convince many of you of this. We live in hook up and fast paced culture that seems to often place higher value on pace and quantity, and well, sex feels good. I am not saying that every encounter should or ought to be intimate, that there is no place for hookups and one night stands (trust me, there are places and reasons for this), but rather, I am offering that should we ever want anything more substantial, we have to become more substantial. I’m saying connection still matters. I’m also offering to those who feel like me, that they are too deep, too introspective, too intimate, that you are not alone. I’m offering to all my many clients who have struggled with meaningless encounter after another, that I understand.

I do not know if I will find this intimacy in a romantic relationship. If not, I don’t know if I can ever fully commit to a person romantically. I may have to be content in my close friend circle that provides me emotional intimacy without any conditions. I consider myself lucky to have that. I cannot imagine how some people go through life without it. To me, it seems like a zombie or a shell of a life, not fully realized. I hope for you all, that you find intimacy.

**I have a hunch from discussions with my friends that this may be true in other types of partnerships as well, but I can only authentically speak from my experience, which romantically have been heterosexual. I’m interested in how this differs for others though!.

I Finally Understand the Relationship I Crave

I first encountered this question with one of my favorite therapists. She asked me, “LeAnna, what kind of relationship do you want?” And said, for her, “it would be like my favorite pair of blue jeans, worn in, comfortable, and comforting.”  I thought that was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard and so, I tried that on for fit. It was a delightful notion, but didn’t quite fit what was the relationship that would be best for me. Yet and still, I continued for years to wrestle with that question.

I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately. And today, I came into the realization of what the relationship is that I crave. I am looking for a relationship that allows me to be the wildflower or wild fruit I have always been. Some people call me a free spirit, some an exception, some weird, some zesty or wistful, and others throw their hands up in exasperation as they do not know WHAT I am. I think I am a wild fruit with many branches, stems, and odd fruit, that does not wish to be confined or defined. I am not meant to be a fenced in flower, I am not a dainty rose, I am not flowers that grow in neat rows that bare no fruit but are stunning, and I am not a weed to be plucked. And I need a relationship that is a garden large enough to allow me to grow as I please.

This relationship would not try to confine me, would give me the space to sprawl my long greenery all over the dirt, grow over any fences, destroy fences that stunt my growth, and tends to me with the tender loving kindness that gardeners use to tend to their bounty. Providing nurturing and support when necessary, but never critical or blaming when the bounty does not reach their expectations, and instead thrilled with what it blooms in its own unique space, admiring its unexpected colors or fruits.

A love that is careful when entering the garden to not stomp or destroy the wild flowers of my being, but not too careful as it understands that as a wild fruit, I am capable of a persisting in the worst conditions, but am better when provided the best conditions. A love that respects my ever persisting and fierce life force, but understands that even the wildest among us needs sustenance.  A love that possesses the understanding  that a garden that wilts needs water, love, nurture, and sunshine, rather than criticism, neglect, or coldness. Who understands that a wilted garden does not have to die, but can thrive when shown a little tenderness, and often comes back tenfold in its produce.

I crave a love that understands that my roots run deeper, wider, and across spans of a universe that they cannot see, and yet, takes the time to study and learn how a wild flower like me can produce sweet fruit, and puts each new tidbit of knowledge into practice. A love that understands that wild flowers cannot be tamed or controlled, they can only be nurtured and loved. And that in return for your understanding, I will reward this love with the sweetest fruits, sustenance for his vitamin deprived heart, and a beauty that has little to do with physical appearance, but the very essence of what it means to live. My fruit is versatile, can be used to cure the ailing of broken hearts and to nourish the sickest of men – if only allowed to be wild and free, with a gentle guard of protection and a tender form of care.

My perfect relationship is a garden, and I, the wildflower. The gardener and I take care of nourishing one another, never expecting each other to be any one other than we are. He would love me to grow into the most magnificent part of myself, never worrying about if I outgrow or shine him, as we both will know, the flower is a direct reflection of his care, nurture, and ability to allow me to be a wild flower. While his health, resilience, and stature is a direct reflection of my ability to provide him with the nourishment of my fruit.

This is what I crave.

“The Fuckboy Back-Out”


The Fuckboy Back-Out: When someone declares that they are not “looking for anything serious” but then proceeds to have a somewhat intimate and sometimes exclusive type of relationship with another party. Only to declare that they weren’t looking for anything serious to begin with once feelings become involved. 

I’ve been guilty of doing the fuckboy back-out. Maybe not in the case of the exact description above, but I have done it.  I’ve had some sort of connection with someone, but then realized that it was something I didn’t want to be in, so I decided to end things.  Details are unimportant at this time however, anyway you put it, I’m guilty.  I don’t feel great about it and I’ve even apologized about it.  I know that I have fuckboy tendencies. My blogger friends here at ATOTC remind me about it all the time.  I’ve learned from my past and hope to never be a fuckboy of this caliber ever again.

I still have some things to work on. lol

But with that said…

Stop playing with my fucking emotions!


Don’t tell me that you are not looking for anything serious after I tell you I’m interested in meeting someone long-term and then ask come home with me after meeting you (OK so this is probably all initially my fault anyways)


Don’t lay in my bed for hours kissing and cuddling the next morning if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

Don’t text me asking me out on a Brunch date two days later if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

Don’t text me upset that I didn’t invite you to dinner when I tell you I’m having one of your favorite meals if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

As a matter of fact…Don’t text me like you enjoy talking to me all the time if you aren’t looking for anything serious. We ain’t friends.

Don’t ask me out to dinner if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

Don’t come over to my house, cuddle under my blanket, and fall asleep watching TV if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

Don’t ask to stay at my house because you are about to go on a long trip for work if you aren’t looking for anything serious.

I am NOT here to be your convenient boyfriend.  No, you CAN NOT have your cake and eat it too.


This would be the second time in less than a year, that I’ve dealt with this.   I meet someone, they don’t want anything serious, but I’m invited to places, I go. We have fun.  I’m taking them places.  We’re laughing and having a good time.  I tell them I like them. He responds back with “I like you too”. But then he starts to make subtle comments about how he’s single and isn’t really looking for anything.

But that’s only if I’m lucky.

Most guys that are guilty of the fuckboy back-out make no mention of how they want to be single.  This is so they can keep riding the wave and then say “I never said that” or “I was just having fun” or “Why are you assuming things” or whatever the hell other excuse they can use because they never specifically stated anything.


But for the ones that do continue to conveniently remind me, I know what they’re doing.  They’re saying this just to “check” me.  Ohhh yeah, that’s right.  You don’t want me to be your boyfriend, but you’re such a good guy.  How can I deny you that you want to still hang out with me and have “fun”.

And you know what? My dumb ass sticks with it.


And I KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON. THE. WHOLE. TIME. But my dumb ass brain operates terribly when it comes to feelings. All of that dopamine and bullshit in my head that the science people be talking about makes me forget my name sometimes.  I’m an emotional guy (as most of you know), but these type of moments tend to cater to my “throw caution to the wind” attitude, so all I be thinking is “who cares if this isn’t going to be a thing, I’m enjoying myself!”.

I’m Over it!



I’ve finally learned from my past fuck ups. Fuck your “I’m not looking for anything”. That’s your cop out.  Your official “Fuckboy Back-Out”.  Because, how is it that you want to spend all of your time with me; You spend money on me; I spend money on you; And you don’t want to be “exclusive”? Why? Because you want to fuck around?  You can’t handle having a title? You think being in a relationship is lame? Fine. If you want to do that, do that. But when it’s all said and done, leave my space because I’d rather spend money on my damn self.

At this point I should know better. And I think I do, actually.  I’ve finally learned to bow out gracefully when the signs are there.  And you best be sure, I know these signs now.  So when you want to go to dinner, then stop by my place afterwards then decide to spend the night.  That’s going to be a no.  When you text me, asking me what I’m doing because you’re “bored”.  Bored better mean “horny at the moment and I’ll be on my way afterwards”.  Because from now on, there ain’t no cuddling shit going on around here.  Those are reserved.

Because I’m a master cuddler.  Sorry, but not sorry that you’ll be missing out.


Don’t let an emoji wreck your life

My best friend and fellow blogger, Leanna, and I, like to make nicknames for all the men and/or fuckboys we have encountered in our lives. It’s a lot easier to remember than actual names and much more fun. I imagine that this is something a lot of women, or even men, do.

I wonder what nicknames I’ve been given…hmmm?!?!


One of the nicknames that have been given out is “don’t let an emoji wreck your life guy”.

Don’t lie. You know that’s funny.

So long story short, this guy used to always send random emojis. Like, had I really wanted to, we would have probably only had conversations via emoji. And that shits not cool.

The annoying part was that we would occasional talk, Nothing would come of it, No shot was ever taken if you wanna put it that way (shameless plug for my previous post) and so I would usually move on to some other guy. He ends up being a fuck boy. Don’t let an emoji wreck your life guy shows back up. Pointless talking. Cycle continues.

How he got his nickname though was that he always popped up with an emoji. And all conversation included emojis. And it was fucking annoying.


Just say what you mean! I get the point of emojis. I do. But don’t have them be your most used form of communication and definitely don’t use them instead of shooting your shot! 🏀⛹🏽‍♀️⛹🏾‍♂️

Rule of emoji thumb 👍🏽: Emojis should accentuate your messages, thoughts and words not replace them!

You want to know why?

Because emojis require a lot of interpretation. And we might not translate them the same way. And we are already losing some important parts of the art of communication because we are texting or snap chatting so to then throw in a bunch of random, vague emojis you are just inviting me to be confused and ignore you.


So here is a list of the emojis I find most annoying and why.

👀 👀 👀 : first of all, screw you and your lookin eyes! Why? Why must you send me five sets of looking eyeballs. These are always sent when you have not said anything to a fuck boy for a while and instead of saying “hey. How are you. I miss talking to you. Want to hang out? Hope everything is okay.” They send you these stalker eyes like “hey I’m watching you why are you ignoring me I’m an awesome guy and you don’t realize that so I’m going to call you a bitch in two minutes when you don’t respond how I want.”

🤷🏾‍♂️: this to me is the international symbol for “I’m not pressed.” And if you don’t know how much I hate that phrase, go read my other blog conveniently titled “you should be pressed.” So at first glance it looks like a harmless guy who is just confused or genuinely doesn’t know something. Like if I said “hey what’s the capital of Kazakhstan” you could write back 🤷🏾‍♂️ and I wouldn’t care. But that’s not what happens. This guy gets sent when someone’s butt hurt but they don’t want to show it. Or it’s a passive aggressive like “I just said some ignorant shit and I’m going to put this guy here to ease the tension but also solidify my status as a fuckboy 🤷🏾‍♂️.” And when that happens you can promptly watch me metaphorically shrug my shoulders as I walk away.

🚶🏾‍♂️: honestly I think I only got this guy from don’t let an emoji wreck your life guy so I feel he deserves to be on the list. This is the most passive aggressive sad walk away guy ever. This is sent as a like “oh no. I tried to shoot my shot but I really didn’t try that hard so I’ll walk away now but instead of saying hey this is what I mean I’m just going to send this Sad walking guy instead.” Bye Felicia.

😏: this one is sent when someone is trying to be sexual or slick but doesn’t want to seem like a pervert and throws this emoji out there to see if you catch on. Word of advice. Just tell me you want to fuck and that’s it. Then I can decide if that’s what I want and we don’t have to play these games. But don’t under any circumstance say some slick stupid mess and throw this emoji out. I promise. I will not respond the way you want.

🤦🏽‍♂️: UUUUGGGGHH. I seriously despise facepalm guy. Like I hope you facepalm yourself so hard that you give yourself a concussion. Yea. It’s that bad. Why? I mean sometimes an occasional facepalm is definitely necessary. Someone says some stupid stuff and you have no response. Slight facepalm and keep it moving. The issue is, this is sent by your expert fuckboy when you have said something he doesn’t like that messes up his fuckboy game. It’s his moment to regroup. Or it’s sent as his way of acknowledging he’s fucked up. However. It’s not an actual admission of fuckup. Like “hey fuckboy you shouldn’t have said that.” His response “🤦🏽‍♂️” and the issue is, the facepalm has this undertone of “ugh. Here we go. This bitch has standards and is going to be difficult and make me work. Let me make her seem like the crazy one.” So again. Do us a favor and go ahead and facepalm yourself into the emergency room.

So here’s the thing with all of this. I acknowledge that I could be 💯% wrong on all of my interpretations. But that’s the point. It’s all open to interpretation so you have to keep that in mind when you are texting me a bunch of emojis instead of actual words.

But you know what. You could also actually pick up the phone ☎️

I am Tired Of Dating: Stop Screwing With People’s Emotions… And By People, I Mean Me!

This is a vent post. A wake up call to everyone out there fucking with everyone’s emotions. A comforting blanket for those crying and feeling alone and rejected by dating. A warrior call to those with strength to fuck shit up.

I am so fucking tired of people, and specific to my situation, straight men, doing whatever the hell they want with no repercussions while dating. They come in with no intention of caring for another, and perpetuate as if they may be capable, only to leave women, my friends, me, feeling confused, emotionally drained, defeated, and lately, in my case, pissed. And I’M OVER IT.

Yes, yes. I know. I should be invincible, not allow others to define my emotions, and basically be this woman who knows her worth and moves on unscathed. I do not know what super hero movie you think I’m from, but let me tell you one thing, knowing my worth has nothing to do with the feelings of despair and isolation you feel when people treat you like shit. I may be able to move on at some point and carry my head high, but if you are able to move on unscathed, please bestow your super hero powers on me. Me, I’m simply human and trying to keep myself sane.

For instance, the 5 past first dates I have had scheduled, have all flaked on me. Some have done the disappearing act on the day of. You know, nowhere to be found, number doesn’t work, and you never hear from them again. Luckily, you usually see this coming 24 hours in advance, feel crappy, order take in and/or wine, and stay home crying and texting your group chat about what is wrong with you.

The other type of flake is the set a date, be excited, text you less than 24 hours in advance, so you think it is going to happen. You buy a whole new fucking outfit, and he disappears about 12 hours before. You usually don’t show up for this one either, but this one hurts more and then next damn day, he has an excuse about his ____ dying, his house flooded, or in my situation, a car accident (in which I later learned happened waaaay before our date, he got ibuprofen for a “back injury,”and could totally have taken 2 seconds to text me he wasn’t going to make it). I’m (and you are) a nice person though, so you excuse that.

The last way to get flaked on (or in my situation, at least) is the worst. A guy who has committed one of the above offenses, shows up again and reschedules. He changes the venue an hour or two before to another city and you show up. And he never shows up, calls, or texts. AFTER being the car accident guy on the last date…

Screeeeeech. W. T. ENTIRE. F.

This one usually leads to drinking a lot at said bar meet up spot, trying not to cry, and lots of friends supporting you. But for me, this also lead to days of self doubt, internal warfare, and anger. Lots of it. You see, this came after all these failed attempts at first dates, from guys who seemed interested in me, and I don’t care what anyone tries to convince me otherwise, that shit HURT.

I’m also hurting from dating for many other reasons. I’m very annoyed with guys who want to date me but take no initiative, even if I lay it on the table and state my interest. I’m tired of everyone all the way up to 42 years damn old, not ready to settle down and are looking for “fun,” and come to wreck my life on dating sites despite my clear statement I’m looking for a long term relationship. I’m tired of their audacity to even become remotely upset, when I point that out. I’m tired of men who open up parts of me, only to disappear. Tired of men lying about simple shit, and when I call them out on it, play stupid and switch it back on me, leaving me no choice but to ignore their dumb “looking eyes” emojis when they try to pop up. In fact, I’m tired of the pop ups, please go away and I hate those damn “looking eyes.” I am tired if you flirting endlessly with me all night, hiding your left hand or not wearing your ring, only to tell me hours later that you’re married. I am tired of you realizing too late, I was the one who got away. I’m tired of broken promises strewn on the floor, like shattered glass – seemingly magnificent, but painful.

I’m tired of cisgender, heterosexual men setting the standards and rules of dating and being a woman, that if I don’t follow, rebel, or question, then I’m the crazy one.

Mostly, I’m tired. And I feel an uprising within me that grows stronger everyday. Men, particularly, black men, I love you, but you need to do fucking better. Because I am hearing the warrior call in all areas of my life, and I’m tired and ready for battle.