The Andre 3000 Theory

Sometimes when it's late at night
And you have no one to talk to
Here's what you do, you go through that 
Raggedy cell phone 'bout two or three times
Tracy ain't home, Tina ain't home
The love below starts talkin' to ya 
-"Vibrate" by Andre 3000
The Love Below album

Well ya'll, 2018 is right around the corner. I guess it's time for me to tell you guys all these pie in the sky resolutions that I've created for myself that will never be achieved, thus setting myself up to feel like a loser by Valentine's Day. NOT!
This year, I am taking some things I have learned from watching Aunty Iyanla Vanzant to fix my life. It is time to get down to brass tax. I only have two resolutions this year. On the physical end: to lose weight. I have shared my weight loss struggles with you before and worry not, there are many more posts to come outlining my addiction to sugar and my emotional eating. But here, I would like to focus on my emotional resolution: to clean house, starting with my phone.
If you all have been reading me for the past few years, you know that I have dealt with some real losers romantically. The teens I volunteer with tell me that they are now referred to as "f*%k boys". Let me just tell you, my phone is a Rolodex of "f*%k boys". And really good ones too: ones that have disrespected me to my face, stood me up, demanded sex, ignored my texts, and the list of hurt goes on and on and on. But here is the thing: I no longer talk to most of these men, but I still have their numbers. Why?
This is where Iyanla comes in. Last night, after everyone went to bed, I sat up in the dark, hearing Aunty Iyanla telling me to breathe it out and really think about this. And after a few rounds of deep breathing, I came to the painful realization: I have kept these numbers so I could feel like I had a man. So when I got lonely, I could have some options of some guys I could cake with. These numbers are just tools I have created to sit comfortably in my delusions. I don't have a boyfriend and that's okay. And it really needs to be okay because, let's be honest, I have other crap on my plate that more urgently needs my attention than being single. As far as the caking goes, I better learn how to give myself a hug, because allowing a man that doesn't care to fill my mind with lies to help me feel better for a moment just sets me back on my journey. These numbers are weights around my ankles that are keeping me from accepting reality. I am single. I am going to be 33 TOMORROW. This is life. This is reality. I have to sit in it and start doing my work. BOOM! That's what you call a breakthrough!
Let it rain, now clear it out.
So today, I am deleting a bunch of numbers. This is significant for me, showing myself that I, like Aunty Iyanla would say, am willing to start doing my work. This also means that the next time I am lonely I am going to start texting inappropriate things to my female best friends. This can open up a bunch of issues in my friendships, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it.
Here's to 2018!!