The Artist

The night of the Christian Mix and Mingle, I met an artist. He walked up on me while I was bending over a table to rest my back. It was killing me, having just walked down the street in cheap shoes behind a very fast moving Kyndra. 

"Are you here for the thing?" he asked, pointing at the crowd of people who were gathered at this location. And you know where it was. I was at one of those repurposed Atlanta spaces that was once a factory or something. Visible pipes. Lots of steps. Now it is a jumble of galleries and lofts for events and photo shoots. 

"No, I am here for a dating thing," I said, still not standing up straight. I'm sure my butt was directly in his face, but my lower back was screaming! 

"Oh." 

I looked over my shoulder and butt to see a very fine chocolate man wearing overalls that were covered in paint. This caused me to sit up and at least pretend like I was comfortable. 

After a brief conversation, I found out that I was talking to a man named Fritz that owned a small gallery filled with his own work on the bottom floor. I was so interested in hearing about his work and looking at his face that I didn't notice that Kyndra had left me. Apparently, we were in the wrong building. He gave me one of his cards and I went on to find Kyndra. 

"I think I am going to call that artist and see if I can make him my Spring beau," I told Kyndra the next day on the way to church. She was not on board. She and the church clique are all about a man finding a woman and all of that. I don't know if that applies to me. I'm a plus size woman with a big afro in a red dress. If a man was going to find me, wouldn't he have found me by now?

That night, I looked up his website. He draws and sculpts people that kind of look like The Simpsons, and apparently, when he is not showcasing his art, he is leasing out his space for yoga classes and seminars. He was just as fine online as he was in person, minus that paint-spattered clothes. 

I stared at his email for about ten minutes before logging out of my computer for the night. All I could hear is Tony Gaskins, the Instagram relationship coach, talking about how men enjoy a hunt and that women looking for men is a no-no. I don't know. I guess a part of me does like the idea of an old-school romance where a man puts forth the effort. So I followed him on Instagram but I didn't email him. I told him my name when we met. If he's interested, he can find me. 

Mingle No Mix

Kyndra invited me to a Christian Singles Mix and Mingle and I jumped at the chance to go. I never miss an opportunity to dress nice and possibly meet cute men. As to be expected, there were WAY more women there than men, and out of the men, there were more White men than Black ones.
"Have you found the love of your life?" I asked a woman who sat down beside me, a plate of appetizers in hand.
"Girl no," she said, crossing her legs. "There are hardly any brothas here."
"But there are White guys," I pointed out, nodding to a group of casually dressed White men dancing off-beat to a rap song.
"Girl stop," she said chuckling, nibbling on a meatball.
A long time ago, Jamaica told me that the reason why a lot of Black women were alone is because they refuse to date out of their race. I didn't want to believe it, but this may be true. I do have close Black female friends that are married to Black men, but I have so many single Black homegirls that are lonely and giving up. I wonder if they would be happy and in relationships if they weren't waiting around for Black men that may not come.
"You go talk to one," the same lady dared me. My stomach started to ache. Even back when my Black peers alleged that I wanted to be a White girl, I didn't see myself with a White man. Looking at the White men in the room, as nice as they seemed, made me think of the White athletes from high school that acted like they owned the place with their arrogance and poor attitudes.
"Naw," I said, "I'm just here to have fun."
For the rest of the evening, I watched a really cute Asian girl dancing with a group of White guys, smiling from ear to ear. Meanwhile, my wallflower section of Black women sitting against the wall was growing with every song played. I realized then that Jamaica might have been right: if Black women no longer wished to be single, they were going to have to be willing to mix and mingle with men that are not Black. That is a tough pill to swallow but a reality. This reality, however, doesn't keep me from fantasizing about marrying a Black man. Call me a dreamer.

The Last Dating Mohicans

There are a lot of obstacles when it comes to dating in your 30s, obstacles that I would have never imagined as a woman in my 20s. There are men dealing with divorce, men in relationships that think they are single, men still living with their exes to save money, men with side pieces, men with secret children, men with whole secret families, men who only want to date barely legal women, men who want to be Peter Pan. I mean the laundry list of issues goes on and on and on. But I am finding that the biggest obstacle facing single 30-something women is fighting that sometimes all-consuming urge to settle.
Here is something that I think that they should tell children in elementary school not to discourage them but to prepare them: loneliness is a BI$#H! It will make you do some stupid things that you would not normally do. For my single homegirls inching towards 35, it can cause them to do things like entertain losers that they are completely too good for. They say that if a woman is single over 30, there must be something wrong with her. But I am here to say, if there is a man over 30 that is single, watch.out. I find the single 30-something man to be both crazy and bold; pulling laughable foolishness out of their hats at the drop of a dime.
BFF1 just ended a relationship with a guy who has moved his ex in with him to save money. BFF2 was basically told by her on again off again beau that he's still interested in her, a little. Whether or not they get back together depends on where he gets into grad school. BFF3 just broke things off with a man that didn't understand why she was upset that he had a plethora of other girlfriends. She was over 30 after all. She should be happy to be with a man at all. NOT!
My friends knew that these guys were losers, but they chose to settle because they were tired of being lonely and I get it. But I believe that you should settle because, while you are settling, you are presenting yourself as in a relationship to the potential love of your life.
Cuffing season has come to an end. Valentine's Day has passed. If you are single, the urge to entertain that late night text pall that wants to come over and watch a movie at midnight may be very strong. But I encourage you to resist this urge and stand firm. Mr. Right is on the way. We have to believe this ladies. There is no shame in being the last of the dating Mohicans if the loves of our lives are right around the corner.

20

I had to go to the doctor recently. I HATE going to the doctor. But I didn't have a choice! I needed more blood pressure medicine and, sadly, you can't buy it off the street.
I don't like going to the doctor for all of the usual, expected reasons. Fear of bad news. Cold doctor fingers. Fear of bad news.
Well, during my checkup I was informed of something unexpected and yes, even unbelievable. I have lost 20 pounds!
"What?" I asked the nurse, confused.
"You have lost 20 pounds since the last time you were here."
"Oh...What?" I asked again, not sure I understood what she was saying.
"You have lost weight," she said slowly.
"Oh." I still didn't get it.
It wasn't until the Lyft ride home that I understood the magnitude of what she had said. I. Me. I had lost weight! This is a big deal because I have never lost weight in my life! I have consistently been getting fatter since birth! I had actually begun to believe that I could not lose weight. I mean, I have joined gyms and drank smoothies. As a teen, I even flirted with anorexia and managed to gain weight! What would happen if I went 20 by 20 and began to lose hundreds of pounds?
Don't worry. I am still going to be your friend even though I am now skinny. I wish I could tell you that I lost 20 pounds with diet and exercise but sadly, it had more to do with stress and loneliness. Regardless, it is my 20 pounds and I am taking it like I can get it! How stressed and lonely do you guys think I would have to get to lose 200?

The Last Single VDay

Yet another Valentine's Day is coming up and I don't have a valentine. In all honesty, I haven't had a good V-Day since I was 19. At 19, I don't know what I would have said if someone would have told me that that would be my first and last Valentine's Day ever. How pathetic! This is truly the stuff that depressing romantic comedies are made of.
I guess the good news is that I am not alone this year. Even some of my smart, gorgeous, professional girlfriends will be spending February 14 with Mr. Netflix. And they are all saying that it's alright, that they are actually looking forward to a good, quiet evening alone. I'd believe them if they weren't saying this through clenched teeth and tears. Even my aunt asked me if she should send herself flowers to her job. I told her that that was a stern no, but I may take it back. Someone should get roses on the most romantic day of the year, even if said person has to mail them to herself.
You would have laughed at me if you would have seen me this weekend going to my writer's group. I was dressed as if I had a Valentine's Day date that very afternoon with Idris Elba! I mean, I looked gorgeous! But I wasn't being hot just to be hot: I was trying to get Ryan's attention. I got there too late to sit next to him, so I was literally trying to mentally and spiritually connect with him during the meeting. The prayers went over his head. He did, like everyone else, comment on how cute I looked. That made me smile for a second until I realized that his compliments did nothing to change my state of valentinelessness.
Why is this so hard? I'm not looking for love, just a free meal and a cheek kiss! For some reason, I want to blame social media.
Next year I will be 35 and I will have a V-Day date even if it kills me. If the past years are a prediction of the future, I better get my final affairs in order.

The Lonelies

I'm lonely.
This is something that I already knew, but now my loneliness is starting to manifest in my behaviors. For example, I have recently picked up the weird pastime of sitting in my room in the dark and watching Facebook videos of people getting zits and blackheads popped on their faces. If that doesn't scream lonely...and weird, I don't what does!
Then, of course, there was my unfortunate slip into a one-way Instagram obsession with a male dancer two months ago. The less said about that the better.
I have been told that the best way to beat loneliness is to get out and be active. I would, but it's cold outside. I have also been told that exercise is a good remedy for beating the blues, and I would totally exercise, but I am fat and lazy.
The only thing that I really have the energy to do is write in my journal and crawl up on my floor with the lights off. I find it peaceful, the combination of darkness and listening to myself breath.
In these moments of silence, I can not help but reflect on how I have deluded myself into believing that the loneliness would just zap away if I had a dude to cuddle with during these bone chilling Atlanta nights. Knowing deep down inside that this would only make matters worse, I have gone on Amazon to price an oversized bear that I can hug on while I sleep.
Have any tips on how to beat winter lonelies? Let me know. I'm open to anything that doesn't involve a lot of work. But for now, I must go. Time for my favorite lonely pastime ever: watching The Office on Netflix until I doze off.

A Sensitive Situation

I talked to Savannah the other day, and she has all the characteristics of a woman in love. There is a new man in her life and she's excited and just can't hide it! Oddly enough, me and Mr. Loverman graduated college in the same class, two years ahead of Savannah. He's a cutie that has a good job. He has done well for himself fiddling on the stock market. They met at homecoming and they have been talking for about a year. There's just one thing: Savannah is still technically married to her husband.
"That's why you can't tell anyone about this. It is a very sensitive situation," she whispered into the phone. I'd say it is.
As I get older, I am becoming increasingly more aware of how thick the gray is between black and white. Savannah is getting out of a bad marriage. Mr. Loverman likes her a lot and is waiting for the paperwork to get processed on the divorce, and, according to Savannah, her soon-to-be ex-husband is dating already as well! Growing up, my grandmother would have told me that this whole thing is a no-no. But what do you do when love and life push you into a weird situation? Especially one that could sprout the fruits of real happiness and connection?
If you find yourself in the same boat as my girl Savannah, you file your divorce papers, keep your mouth shut, pray your friends keep their mouths shut, and sit tight until everything becomes more ideal. According to Savannah, Mr. Loverman is open to marriage and so is she. This whole thing could end in her walking down the aisle again! Isn't it funny how things work out?
I know that a lot of people have strict beliefs about the sanctity of marriage, but I can't help to cheer for my friend. You only have one life to live, and I want her life to be as full of happiness as possible. Plus, this whole thing proves something Jamaica told me years ago: people do find real love at homecoming. Sigh. I guess when I go this year I should at least get my hair done.