New Man, Mixed Messages

Pardon me if I have been absent, but indeed I have been chatting it up with a new man. I don't want you to get too excited about him because it is very new, and I am trying not to get too excited about him because it is very new, but I do like him. I have shared my developments with New Man with a couple of my friends and, per usual, they have had a lot to say. 

You see, for years, these friends have told me that I was closed off and that I needed to be open to meeting someone. They encouraged me to go out more and join dating apps. These were the same friends who made sure to tell me, as many times as humanly possible, that I wasn't going to find my guy complaining at home, and that I needed to step out on faith and lead with my heart. Oddly enough, these same friends are encouraging me to now lead with suspicion. You guessed it, P is one of these friends. 

The other day, I told P about how New Man told me this fantastical story from his youth that had me on the edge of my seat! I really feel like it could be a movie! P, of course, did not feel the same way. 

"That story doesn't even make sense," he said dryly. "Man, you will believe anything these men tell you. Did you even ask any follow-up questions?"

Just to be clear, this is the same P that has consistently gotten on me about thinking that all men are liars and being a "man-hater". Now that I am trying to participate in the dating world that he encouraged me join time and time again, he seems to be annoyed that I believe even the most minute thing New Man, and other men, have said to me. He kind of makes me feel dumb about it. 

Lisha has been the same way; not about New Man but about Coffee. This is funny because she is Little Miss Soft Life, encouraging me to listen with my heart. Yet, when I would tell her interesting things about Coffee, she was clearly listening with a raised eyebrow. 

"I think this man is cap," she said flatly. "Sometimes, I wonder if he is legit or if he is just sitting over there lying to you."

I gotta say kids, I feel like I am receiving mixed messages. 

The running story for years has been that I am bitter and distrustful, and I do not want that to be my story. P and Lisha are prime examples of friends who, over the years, have been at the forefront of encouraging me to make changes so that wouldn't be my story. Now, it feels like they want me to wear an "I'm Trusting" hat at the same time as an "I Don't Believe You" hat. The thing is, I only have one head. They want me to have one head and be of two minds, which I know is possible but also difficult and consuming. 

If being the friend with no man watching everyone's relationships has taught me anything, it's this: suspicion is cancerous to the healthy cells of a couple. One minute, your relationship is healthy and vibrant, then BAM! The infectious dishonesty makes its way into the relationship and, before you know it, your relationship is terminal and on life support. I have seen what it is to second-guess everything a partner tells you, and it just doesn't work. I want my relationships to work. 

At their cores, I just think that P and Lisha don't want me to be a dummy and get played. I don't want that for myself either. I am deciding to not believe New Man only if he gives me a reason not to. I am not going to expect lies or look for them, but I will be prepared for them if they are to arise. Really, I think that is all I can do. 

The Poopy Diaper Theory

Again, a friend is accusing me of being negative. This time it's Lisha and this time I was simply telling her about my day. And to be clear, my day was sh&t on a hot tin roof! Whenever this accusation arises I am left baffled because I am simply discussing how something went or how I am feeling. Perhaps someone should define for me what positive means, because it sounds like it means the act of using your pointer finger to draw a happy face in a poopy diaper. I don't want to do that. I don't know how to do that. I won't do that. For me, there is a line so thin between positivity and pretending that the two are almost synonymous, and pretending makes me incredibly tired. I gotta tell ya, I'm tired of being tired. 

The Tough Questions

The other day, I got a particularly horrible Dear John letter from a company I applied to work at. It was hella harsh. I would have much rather they would have knocked on my door then shot me in the foot. 

"Damn!" Lisha exclaimed after I read her the email. "That was... direct." That is a cute way of describing it. I'm not exaggerating when I say that this letter was the written equivalent of giving someone the middle finger. 

It is times like this where I am AGAIN reminded of Penis Man. I wonder about what happened to this guy quite often, especially during my job search. Years ago, I was listening to the news on the radio and the newscaster did a report on a man who had applied to hundreds of jobs and could not get a call back. So, in a desperate state of mind, he began to send in pictures of his junk with his resume. He was arrested for indecent exposure. Too bad I wasn't working in HR back then. That kind of on-your-feet thinking would have gotten him an interview from my company. 

Can I just ask one question: what are we doing? The nation is at war, the aliens are coming, the vegetables are giving folks explosive diarrhea. What are we doing? Applying for jobs? Looking for work? Trying to make a living? Shouldn't we be dancing in the street naked before a record breaking hurricane comes and wipes us out? Am I going to be surfing Indeed when the comet hits? I guess I will ponder these questions later as I edit my resume. 

Soft

The other night, Lisha, again, pointed out that I am not "soft" in my delivery and interaction with men. She has declared that she is in her "Soft Girl Era", and that men are attracted to softer women. Hm. This sounded familiar, and I began to have flashbacks of my grandma begging me to wear more dresses and stop being so loud. I know that no situation is black and white, but I sadly tend to operate in extremes. When I think of myself being softer, I imagine myself wearing rags, cooking over an open-fire stove, while whispering to passersby that I detest my right to vote. 

Lisha then began to coach me on talking to guys. I need to ask more intriguing questions because guys like feeling like they are telling you something. She said a bunch of other stuff that very well may have been the key to the game, but after a while, she started to sound like Charlie Brown's mom. It seems like being softer just means playing dumb so that he can feel like a big, smart stud muffin. In return for inflating his ego he'll treat you like a lady. I could be wrong here, but I don't think so. 

I have never, ever been good at playing dumb. I find it's best to let a guy know I'm smarter than him right from the jump. I tried the clueless routine once, but it came to a screeching halt the day I could no longer listen to said guy's flagrant incorrectness. 

"That's not true," I said as sweetly as I could. 

"What?" he asked confused. 

"There is actually a huge difference between womanist and feminist thought," I chirped politely. What ensued was a very unfortunate exchanged which nipped us in the bud fast. It was then that I learned how rough being soft can be. 

So I won't be making that mistake again, even though Lisha claims the results could be life changing. What is the point of dating if you have to be someone else?