My Problem with Men

I love men.

Specifically, I love black men.

I love the way that they walk, the way that they talk, the brute strength, the beautiful aesthetics of brown skin, facial hair and that certain (for lack of better word) “swagger”.

But I do have a problem with men…and the problem is ME.

In speaking to someone recently, they said that they could see how my blog can come across as “bitter” sometimes. Maybe not “bitter” but they were unconvinced that I actually liked men...and in their words it sounded like a "hardcore lesbian trying to convince people she's straight".  I assured them “No. I love men. I really do. The problem is I love them TOO MUCH”. And then they asked how was that so…

I’ll tell you why, buddy….

I love men so much that somehow I forgot to give a damn about my own needs. I loved men so much that I forgot that I need to have my own needs met across the board before I started to try and meet the unrealistic expectations of a partner who could give a damn about my needs at all (or who may not even want me but for one purpose).  I was selfless, thinking that it was noble when in fact it was self-defeating and probably a little stupid.

I cared entirely too much and didn’t realize that I had to care about me in addition to my partner caring about me as well. It happened in my marriage. I wrapped so much of my happiness in the happiness of someone else..thinking that's what wives do. It happened in relationships pre- and post-divorce. It happened even as a teenager, when I’d spend hours of my free time helping my dumb jock of a boyfriend study for the SAT when I knew damn well he could barely focus to sign his name…. when I could have been improving things with my own teenage self. Oh the lessons that we learn. 

Or have we? Have I?

I realize even now…a guy may not give a damn …yet sometimes I do..and way too early during the course of a relationship. I care if they make it home safely from visiting me. I care if their day is going well. I’m the one initiating the texting or calling while I don’t hear from someone until hours, sometimes days later. I’m always asking how someone is “feeling”. Are you OK?” is what I’m always asking. “Did I do something wrong?” knowing damn well I didn’t. Do you ever think they care to ask me this crap? NOPE…hardly ever. I care so much..I jump the gun. And in some crazy role reversal..I'm the one doing the pursuing and the courting. I don't like that. I want to be pursued...woo-ed and courted...and I need to fall back and allow a man to do that.... Dogs chase cats. Lions chase gazelles. Such is the law of nature..and I need to be in that mode of thinking.

SN: You know how many times I've sent flowers to a man I was dating??? 4 times.  You know how many times I've received flowers WHEN I was dating a guy. 0. PERIOD. Yeah...something is entirely wrong. I care entirely too damn much. (Or maybe I'm just a softy..either way..that was the old me...the new me would never....or maybe the dude is too cheap for flowers..LOL. either way....)

So I have a problem with men…I do. The problem is that I care entirely too much. How do we rectify it? I can become colder, more aloof (certainly goes against my sensitive, caring and open-hearted nature). That seems to work for men..they love these kinds of mind games, mystery and intrigue. But wouldn't that make me disingenuous and not the sweet, nice Southern girl I was raised to be?  It would...maybe. I just need to get a hold on the reigns of self-control and not do the “courting”, the caring or the pampering, especially when there isn’t an ounce of reciprocity by the other person. Especially when they need to be “the man’” and do it themselves… I cant keep being "selfless" to the point of self-denial and downright stupidity. I gotta get mine..just like you gotta get yours. PERIOD. It would just be nice if mutually..we , as men and women, wanted to get some of the same things.

I have a problem with men.

I do. I really do…

So what am I going to do about it?