Socialite Anxiety

Once upon a time, Holly was a we bit of a socialite.
I was that girl that you would see shivering outside of the club in a sleeveless dress with no coat because she just had to go to the party and be cute, even though it was cold and windy.
When I first started blogging I would go to the opening of an envelope if there was going to be a VIP pass and food involved.
I enjoyed dancing and mingling. Many a night I came home hoarse from trying to speak over the loudspeakers at an event. There was just something cool to me about waking up with a club stamp still on my wrist.
On NYE as I got my wallflower on at a NYE party, going through my phone while everyone socialized, I realized that I may not be that girl anymore. These days, I have taken a liking to watching reruns of The Golden Girls on Youtube while giving myself a pedicure. Although it was good seeing everyone, I just felt tired and like being a loner. Dare I say, the energy I once had to be a social butterfly  has dwindled significantly. Having to hang out with about 50 people in a space makes me want to lie down and take a nap.
I can not tell you if this is a sign of depression or of getting older. But at this really fun NYE party, I came into the door ready to go. And it was so much fun! What wasn't fun was me. I felt uncomfortable and out of place, which has never been me socially, ever!
I hate to use the word anxiety because everyone uses it loosely, throwing it around like a frisbee. But that is how I felt at the party: anxious. As soon as I walked in, I just felt in the way, and noticed immediately that everyone looked better than me and was just generally better than me. Can you keep a secret? At one point during the night, I snuck into the room where they were keeping the coats and laid down, and by the time the new year came in, I was already walking to my Uber.
I don't want to lose the fun me. I like fun me. She's...fun! But she was not in the building on NYE and I am afraid she may leave the building for good if I don't do something. But I don't know what do. I will keep you posted on either my progression of regression.

According to JC- The Art of Shooting One's Shot

Ladies, if you are anything like me, you are confused. You aren't sure where your femininity stands in a fast-paced dating landscape where women are now required to be "savages" and "stallions". If you are anything like me, you are probably disgusted as well, for the news has been grim. The state of affairs has gotten so sad that women are paying for their own engagement rings and buying men drinks at the club. It's a topsy-turvy world out here girls. Those of us who were trying to be damsels, waiting for our knight in shining armor, are being forced to be aggressors, hunting for men with a spear and handbag while men sit back and gather their dreadlocks into man buns. Again, if you are like me, this picture just doesn't seem right. But it's okay. JC from church has cleared it all up for us.
I know what you are wondering:who is JC? JC is a 31-year-old man that attends my church. I think most of you would think that he is cute but he's tall so I think that we can agree that how he looks doesn't really matter. Anywho, he is a young man with his ear to the dating streets. I know this, because I have it on good authority that he has tried to talk to three of my church homegirls. And according to him, he's not finished. He announced that in 2020 he will be officially trying to "shoot his shot" at a woman at the church. This interested me.
"What would it look like JC if I wanted to shoot my shot at a man?" I asked. This was of interest, seeing that social media has informed me that men no longer feel like it's their job to approach women.
"You just go up to a guy and let him know how you are feeling, because most of the hints you think you are dropping we don't get."
Eye-opening! But I still had reservations.
"But wait. If a woman approaches a man, doesn't that impeded on his manhood?"
JC shook his head, his dreadlocks shaking. "Approaching a man does not make you the man in a relationship. He still has to take you out and prove to you that he is interested."
Wow!
I think that this all sounds good in theory, but after watching a video of a woman proposing to a man, I don't know if it really works. But 2020 is here and the goal is to be open. I will try it at some point. I will keep you posted on the results.

Next Move, Best Move

Am I the only person who talks to their rideshare drivers about their personal life? I think I may be, because when I share the opinions on my life that the drivers give me with my friends, they stare at me with a blank face.
I recently told this one driver- a Rasta wannabe with stitch-in dreadlocks- about the situation with Third Ryan. For those of you who do no remember, Third Ryan was the man that I pined for for a WHOLE YEAR who told me casually that he "feels a connection" with one of my best friends. It was then that I decided to pack up my cookies and go home. A year was long enough. I had to pull a Maxine Waters and reclaim my time.
"So what are you going to do now?" Rasta asked.
"Uh, nothing."
"Nothing?!" Rasta was so shocked that I thought he was going to crash the car, his framed Bob Marley photo nearly sliding down the dashboard.
"Yeah, he likes my friend."
"So what?!" he demanded. "They aren't together. You have to make your next move your best move, get him to like you."
Okay. This is a PSA. What we are NOT going to do this year, in 2020, is advice the people in our lives that we love, like, and that even step into our Ubers that it is okay to waste time trying to get blind people to see how cool we are. It is the ULTIMATE waste of time! My whole 4 years of college was spent trying to get tall frat boys to realize that I was more awesome than their model girlfriends. Guess what: they didn't! I could have spent that time doing important stuff like drinking or twerking on Bourbon Street!
I have now come to a state of mind where I believe that people who are supposed to see your light shining will see it, plain and simple. My next and best move is moving on.

Small Love

At the beginning of the month, I had a doctor's appointment and ordered a rideshare to take me home. The driver was this sweet African man that didn't flip out because I was drinking cocoa out of a cup with no lid. Upon talking to him, I learned that he was 30, had just come to America two years ago, and was the youngest of a whole bunch of siblings. I asked him if he was having fun on the Atlanta dating scene and of course, I asked this sarcastically, and he said no. He said he met women but they weren't interested in him because he is 5'3. 

Here we go again. My heart went out to him. Being a short man is like the female version of being fat. People discredit you as a potential partner on sight. I have shared that, as I have gotten older, I realize how trivial it is to cancel out opportunities with men based on appearances. Sadly, I don't think that many of my friends, who are free-falling towards 40 just like me, are moving towards accepting men's differences like I am. Many of them want the 6'4 chocolate man they have wanted since they first saw Tyrese in that Coca-Cola commercial. But every man is not Tyrese just like every woman is not Beyonce. Honestly, I don't care how tall a man is anymore as long as he is nice to me and has a job. 

Loneliness is real, especially during the holidays. And again, my heart went out to this cute but small young man with long, pretty eyelashes. I kind of wanted to ask him out myself. 

But I didn't. Not that I'm not open to little love, but I didn't get vibes that he was interested. I'm done chasing after guys that don't want me. I wouldn't mind seeing him again though. He was funny. Perhaps he will be next rideshare driver. Who knows? It's a small world. 

35

I just turned 35 on Monday, yay!
When I was in my early 20s, I used to throw these crazy parties and dinners for my birthdays. I would  spend all year saving my money and going over guest lists, visiting venues, and planning menus. I just couldn't wait to have a shindig where I could dance, laugh, and get presents. Those days are so far behind me, because when I tell you that I chilled on my birthday, I want you to believe it!
Early in the year, I wanted to throw myself a 1990s themed party with old school music and ring pops. Then I wanted to have a general Christmas celebration. I even thought of redoing the EPIC lingerie soiree that I threw when I turned 25. By Halloween, I knew that none of these things were going to happen. I just felt sad for being old and wanted to sit down somewhere.
The sadness lifted about four days before my birthday. I didn't want to turnup, but I did want to hang out with friends. By this point, most of my friends where making plans to leave town for the holidays. Luckily, I called Tasia up who was able to come scoop me up over the weekend. She got me a cake. Her fiance made me a turkey burger, and we watched The Best Man Holiday. It was perfect day!
The day of my birthday, I wrapped myself in a blanket and slept on and off throughout the day. I contemplated going to the aquarium, for it is free to go on your birthday, but it was cold and rainy out. Instead, I opted to take some amazing naps. My brother got me some seafood pasta for lunch, my aunt bought me a cake and ice cream, and my mentor got me a Target gift card that I used to get myself a much-needed new purse. I had salmon for dinner and ended the night watching reruns of Amen of Youtube, showered in social media love and bday tests from my friends. Yes, my 35 birthday was perfect.

The Douche Dynamic

My college homecoming just happened. I wasn't there and I am very sad about it. That whole weekend, I had to watch the play-by-play of all the fun events on Instagram. It sucked. But one IG story that caught my attention was that of Brandon Thomas, a guy who was a senior when I was a freshman. It was about his making amends with his college girlfriend after over 15 years of feeling guilty.
To understand the significance of this, you have to understand Brandon. He is cute and charismatic, but is best known for his outrageous social media posts about women and dating. One of my personal favorites is one where he goes in on a date because she had the audacity to order a desert on their first dinner outing. But that is only one of many posts that discuss how women are just out to get him for his money and clout and blah blah blah.
So, Brandon goes to homecoming and runs into Shanna, his girlfriend from freshman year. He was in love with her, but said he was being a "f*ck boy" and the relationship didn't work out. The very next man that Shanna got with, she married and is still married to today. He had the opportunity to talk to her, and she forgave him for whatever it was he did to end their young relationship.
As young adults, most of us didn't have instructions on how to date properly. Everything we learned was from rap songs and bad advice drunk family members gave us; movies and what our dumb friends told us. All we knew was that we should do the least possible to hurt the person we cared about, and 9 times out of 10, we ended of doing the opposite. Man, there is know hurt worse than the hurt caused by some who didn't know better; someone who had your heart and didn't know what to do with it. But what I have learned with age is that you should do right by folks not just because it is the right thing to do, but because doing bad by folks sticks in your system as well. You feel worse about the situation the older you get and the better your understanding of what a douche you were becomes.
Brandon had the taste of douche in his mouth for 15 years while the ex love of his life had moved on and married. For 15 years he wondered what if while she went on with her life. I think everyone has a Brandon chapter in their book. This whole thing made me wonder how easy dating would be if we didn't carry around regrets from past relationships. Most of us will never know. I know I won't after the Dreads situation. I guess all any of us can do is try to do better.

The Dating Game

One of my good friends is interested in dating a man that she kind of already dated. You see, they were seeing each other and it seemed to be going well until the mother of his child moved in with him. I'm not sure why, but she swore that he swore up and down that there was no funny business. She just needed a place to stay. Obviously, this put their budding relationship in the freezer. 

Now, after a few months, things are starting to pick up again for them...slowly, and my friend doesn't get it. He has said that he likes her and that he is interested in her, but he doesn't speak to her unless she initiates conversation first. This is leaving her to wonder where he stands. 

"Sadly, I don't think he is interested," I tell her. No girl enjoys having to tell their friend this, especially when she is awesome. "Think of your previous relationships. Weren't those guys intentional about showing you how they felt?"

"That's true," she said, processing the statement. 

But as you know, when there is one friend speaking truth into a friend's ear, there is another speaking nonsense. Another friend of hers advised her to just be cute and ignore him and not be so available, you know, play games. We are in our mid 30s. When do we become too old to play games?!

Even as a child, I didn't like games. I preferred sitting in the corner, eating a snack and reading a book. I didn't participate in game playing when it was age appropriate for me to. I remember watching my peers running with balls and chasing each other down. Even then, I didn't think it should be that hard to win. 

My opinion has not changed much, especially when the view to 40 from where I am sitting is clear as a bell. At this age, it is not only immature to play games, but also a COMPLETE waste of time. I suggested to my friend, who is two years older than me, that she sit down with him, tell him how she feels, see what he says, and then move on accordingly from there. If he is not interested, she will know, and can them move on to the awesome brotha that is worth her time. 

I understand that this is easier said than done. I think that we avoid being grownups when it comes to relationships because no one wants to have the hard conversations. They usually come with emotional owies that we just don't want to take on. So, instead, we do the dating version of tag, one-upping each other with disrespect and cruelty until one of us taps out or gets tired. Apparently, this is cool, even in our 30s. I hate to see what dating in our 40s is going to look like. I'm not optimistic.