Free at 44

My friend Katrice is newly divorced and doing pretty well. She has gotten a new job and a new apartment. Her makeup game is on point. She is going out more, hanging out with friends, and meeting new people. I am proud of her! Divorced people will tell you that picking up and moving on after that situation can be hard, emotional, and even traumatic. However, Katrice seems to be moving along just fine. She has made time for reading and taking time for herself. I mean, I wish my everyday letdown was as wonderful as her after divorce glow up!

"So, have you met anyone exciting?" I asked during our weekly weekend call. 

"Nope. I'm done."

I snickered. "Done? So you don't want to be married again? You don't want a partner?"

"Nope," she repeated. "I have loved and have been loved. That is enough for me."

These words have rang in my head since she said them. I am hoping that she isn't serious. I mean, she is only 44! She is too young to be calling it quits! It's funny, I remember being a kid and thinking that 40 was just as bad as being 140. But now that I am over 40, I realize clearly that 40 is nothing. People are living into their 100s! So what, she is going to be 105, not having had a companion in over 60 years?! It would be different if her Black had cracked or if she was bitter, but she is neither of these things. She is a gorgeous, hot, professional lady. How could she commit to calling it quits?

Not too long after I asked myself that question, I answered it. Dating in middle age can be a hot, dramatic mess. Outside of having to compete with younger women, you now are dealing with other singles who too have been kicked down and beat up by life. In her sitting this part of life out, she doesn't have to deal with the inappro-pro pics, lies, reemerging exes, time-wasting. Last time I checked in on her, she was taking in a good novel and drinking a hot beverage. I believe they call that solitude. Doesn't that sound amazing?

I have heard a lot of conservative men online talking about the "Female Loneliness Epidemic". They are excited about it and think that women are getting what they deserve for being picky when they were young. However, these men are confused. I am seeing a lot of middle-aged women who are alone but not lonely. Katrice is always racing off to dinner plans and social events. It's like she put down having a spouse and picked up living her best life! 

Even with this being said and her saying that she plans to kick it solo, I would still like to see her with someone. She is dope and deserves happiness with someone new. It doesn't look like that is coming down the pipeline anytime soon. She is enjoying being free. 

Seeking Charles Christmas 5: Guy Of My Dreams

I know I told you all that I wrapped up my crush on Charles Christmas when I realized we would never be; that I put my love for him in a box and returned him to the world, and I had. But because of him, for the first time in a long time, I woke up with a smile. 

I had a dream that I was on a city bus and Charles Christmas passed me a note expressing his love and desire to buy me nice things. Next thing I know, we are at the mall, and he is getting me expensive gifts. At some point, we end up at the MAC counter where I got a makeover. He then bought me as much lipstick as my arms could carry to the cash register. After that, we walked around the mall holding hands. 

Like I said, I woke up smiling. My heart was full of love. The dream felt very real but I know it wasn't because sadly, there are not hundreds of tubes of MAC lipstick in my purse. I rolled over and went on Instagram to find a story from Charles, posted earlier today. He was at a yoga class. How cute is that? 

I wonder what he'd say if he knew what I think of him? I'd like to believe he'd be flattered but in reality, I think he'd block me from all socials. I'm no dummy. I know he is out of the question for my real life. I guess he is quite literally the guy of my dreams. 

The Price of Greatness

Coffee considers himself a great, "elite" man, and as I get to know him, I have to say that I agree. He is very good at his job and at getting things done. He is really good at identifying a problem and coming up with a "program" to address it and guarantee success. Needless to say, he is a workaholic. He doesn't take vacations and has very little free time. I suppose this is the price of being great. 

Man, when I was a kid, I used to fantasize about how great I would be. I was going to be amazing! Even now, I think about how great it would be if I were great. I think of how much more independent I would be and how much money I would have. One thing I don't want to think about is the amount of work and sacrifice that would go into it. Years ago, I saw a documentary on Kobe Bryant that he did while he was still alive. He said that at night, he would go to the local college campus and see all the kids his age hanging out and having a good time. He thought about how cool it would be not to be famous, and what a time he could be having if he had decided to go to college instead of the NBA. However, he would snap out of this thinking, saying that not being a free and fun college boy was the price he paid for greatness. Hm. 

I guess my price for greatness would be forgoing my never-ending depression and interacting in the world. So, I guess the question is: Is striving to be great a better move than just continuing to withdraw from life? I guess the answer is buried in how much I value money versus how much I love the concrete darkness of continually falling apart. Maybe I should take some more time to think about this. It would be easier to do if I had all the time in the world. Now that would be great. 

The Session

Today, I had my therapy session, and thank God! I had to unload and let someone know how I am honestly feeling. We covered everything, from my being stressed out to my friendships. She said she could tell something was up with me, which was reassuring and more helpful than someone telling me I am acting weird. The session must have been just what I needed because afterwards I took a long, hard nap and for the first time all week, I felt rested. Of all the great things I have ever done, getting a therapist stands out as one of my greatest decisions, and if I were queen of the world, I would make it mandatory that everyone get a therapist. There is nothing like someone with no skin in the game helping you figure things out. I'm really excited for my next session and enjoying some good sleep. 

Moody

P had the nerve to tell me that lately I've been moody. Moody and rude. Well, I'm sorry, but I am beyond over it! Everything has been getting on my nerves of late. I've been beefin' with my brother. I'm always hungry yet losing no weight. Every time I get over one obstacle, I look ahead, and there are ten obstacles left. I'm sleepy. I've had a bad cough. I'm broke. I'm so exhausted and frustrated by my job search that I won't even go into it. I'm concerned about premature aging. I can't seem to drink enough water. I cry at the drop of a hat. I'm scared for the world. My niece now has tantrums that consist of endless screaming. Not crying, screaming. It's all just too much, so yes, I've been a touch snappy. Am I not allowed that? I guess not 🫤

The Praise Rag Story (A Savannah Request)

I have always been a reflective person. The experiences and stories of my life tend to play on a loop in my brain. My friends have often complained about how repetitive I am. So, it is very rare that I share a story with a friend that they have not already heard a thousand times. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Savannah had never heard the praise rag story. 

When I was a college student in New Orleans, I attended a Full Gospel Baptist Church. This was truly an experience, because I was raised United Methodist, which was comparatively very boring. We didn't wear big hats or dance openly in the aisles. We silently listened to the sermons and sang hymns out of a book. My family was not excited about my attending this church, but it was a fun, lively church, and many college students went there. 

One Sunday, I walked into the church and nearly screamed when an older woman pulled me away from my friends and to the side. I had seen her in church before, but I had no idea who she was. Thinking back on it, she didn't introduce herself. 

"Listen, I am making you a praise rag for you to put over your legs when you sit down," she said. I looked at her questioningly. A praise rag? What the hell was that?! She read my expression and said, "You put it over your legs so that pastor can't see up your skirt when you sit down."

"Okay," I said, just eager to get away from her. I had seen other women wearing these things, but I  didn't know they had a name. They just looked like huge, fancy handkerchiefs. I didn't feel like any of my skirts or dresses were short enough that I would need a praise rag. Anyway, why would pastor be looking up my dress? He was married! 

The next Sunday, the same woman ran up to me as I sat down and placed the heavily embroidered praise rag that she'd made me over my lap before I could even protest. I thanked her, not wanting to be rude because the embroidery on the rag was gorgeous! It had to have taken a lot of time. She never let me take the rag home. She would come get it immediately after services. 

As a college student, I thought this whole situation was funny. As a big-aged adult, the whole thing kind of annoys me. To be clear, I don't think that the pastor was looking up my skirt. But I do wish that the world would stop making women and girls the reason for male sexual misbehavior. Like I said, pastor was married. He was also about thirty years older than me and in a position of power and authority. If he had an issue looking up skirts, shouldn't he be given some praise shades or something instead of me being given a praise rag? Just a question. 

Broke As A Bad Joke

Risky Business has fallen on some hard times since she had to leave her residency program. She is living with her parents, and money has gotten pretty tight. That's okay because she has come up with a no-fail financial plan: donating plasma. I am so jealous! If it weren't for the medication that I am on, I would be at the donation center now! 

Most people think that being broke is just being broke; a period of time when a person has to deal with strained resources and/or little to no money. However, the average person may not be broke enough to know that there are levels to brokeness. There is the general not having money and waiting on money to come in level, and there is the level where you have to get really creative, really quickly, or you are going to cross over into a dire situation. This is where a lot of people land in brokeness. Then, of course, there are those who have absolutely no loot to fall back on, their plans didn't work out, and they end up being homeless. That is when a broke person officially crosses over to being poor. Poor is hard. Really hard. 

So, like most women out in the world today who need dough, Risky is getting creative, and I admire her giddy-up. Other friends are offering freelance services, driving for ride shares, pawning their goods, or relying on a boyfriend. Some have resorted to stripping, OnlyFans, or some other pay-for-play service. Again, I salute these people! I have nothing to offer for quick cash, which may be the root of my real problems in real life. I would start a lemonade stand, but lemons have gotten pricey. 

Late last year, I was on a call with many of my old college friends. It was a call solidifying the committee for our reunion year. Part of the discussion was about our class gift and what our fundraising goal was going to be. Someone on the call suggested that there were some of us who could afford to donate $24K. I put myself on mute and laughed. Twenty-four thousand American dollars?! If I had that kind of money, I would withdraw half of it and roll around in it on my bedroom floor naked. Then I would begin to pay off my bills, starting with the ones that used the most threatening language in their letters. 24K. Get out of here! 

Coffee often says that I can work hard or find a man who does. Sadly, I don't think that is my lot in life. I think I am totally a plasma type of girl. However, we discussed that isn't an option for me. Are people willing to pay money for other people's failed dreams or bad jokes?