Monthly Archives: January 2010

Jan19

Dénouement

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Dénouement

So now I’m in a ditch, covered with muddy water and embarrassment. My purse is on the grass with my Sunday school envelope laid beside it. And he’s not driving; he’s looking at me shocked. Then he puts the car in park and carefully walks to the edge of the ditch in question and peers in at me.

“Come on. Let me help you up.”

I’m stubborn. That’s how I got here in the first place. And like a child I shake my head. He sighs and wonders how we’re going to get out of this. I can read his expression, even in the dusk, even without my glasses which have flown onto the roadside. He looks down at the grass and I know he’s wondering whether or not he should cut his losses. He’s considered that before. But he’s my man. He won’t leave me. Even when he retreats to the hood of the car, he can’t leave.

“What’s on your mind, girl?”

I talk. Words tumble out and roll like marbles. We’re at the same spot we’ve always been. And if we never move? Then what? I feel like he doesn’t need me. Doesn’t matter if I stay or if I go. But I don’t want to go. I want to stay – and live. There’s something biting my ankle in this ditch and it does hurt, but I can’t move until he hears me. He tugs on his overalls and looks down the road.

“I do need you. It’s hard to explain. Maybe if you’d let me help you out of there…”

I want promises. Commitments. Reassurance. Or I’m not going anywhere. It’s juvenile, but I can’t think of another way right now. “Say anything, anything to get me to move,” I pray silently. That’s not him though. We’re looking at one another. When I see him, it’s always like the first time. I don’t want to cry, but I feel my tears stinging . He and I are more alike than different. I put my hand on my hip and suck my teeth as I blink away the tears. His eyes are back down the road.

“I won’t be railroaded. Get out of the damn ditch and we can talk.” Then pleadingly. “Okay?”

“You gone let me sit square on that Fine Corinthian Leather? I smell like swamp and hot woman.”

“Suppose. You know you’re finer than that leather anyway.”

I smile. That’s a reassurance of sorts. I’ll take it. I stretch out my hand and he helps me up the steep embankment.

“You’re a mess. In a cute way, I think,” he chuckles. “You know I need you around. You do know that, don’t you?” He touches the side of my muddy face softly.

“That’s all I needed to hear, I guess.”

Jan2

So what DO men want?

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So what DO men want?


I need some honest answers and I need them now.

Lately, a lot has been said about the single-ness of Black women. More specifically, young, educated, fairly successful Black women who, while it would seem they are the perfect catch, find themselves alone. Usually, I’m lucky and articles I read and things I see have little or nothing to do with me. Unfortunately, this time I wasn’t so lucky. The woman that was being described, that successful during the day and lonely at night woman, was me.

I talk sometimes about my resume: I’m degreed, I have a good job, a house, a car, I’m smart, I cook. I’m supportive and caring. Independent, unbiased sources have verified that I’m fairly attractive. Whatever. I can reel off about 20 other excellent reasons that I should be someone else’s significant other. I can even come up with some reasons that might disqualify me: I’m a little more round, if you will, than I used to be, living alone has made me a hermit, a lot of Texas guys can’t take natural hair seriously. I’m a realist; I’m not going to be everyone’s cup of tea.

But, damn, you’d think I’d be someone’s cup of tea.

Somewhere in the middle, there has to be an answer. And I’m kinda close to giving up on the game totally and accepting that some people are just meant to be alone and I’m just one of those people. But before I do, I promised myself I’d give it another chance in 2010. An honest, real, I’m really trying, chance.

(Let me preface this next part: I will never be against another sister. And I know times are hard. I want everyone to find that someone. But I’m sure I’ll be accused of hating anyway.)

Men do a lot of talking about what they want in a woman. And then they do a lot of contradicting themselves. You want Miss Independent, but you hook up with the most dependent woman you can find. You want someone who supports your dreams, but you stay with someone who stifles your creativity and makes you feel like a loser. You want someone with ambition, but you’ll take someone who’s real ambition is for you to make her situation better – the less she spends on rent, the more she can spend on clothes. I know those are gross generalizations, but when I look around, it just seems that women who aren’t trying to do a whole lot with themselves don’t have a problem getting a man. And women who are out there trying to do some things are spending their lives alone.

Now before you say “Maybe your standards are too high” you should know this: that might be the case if I were even meeting men. But I’m not. I’m not even meeting men to turn down anymore. So it’s not that. My standards aren’t a high hurdle, by the way. I have to be reasonable attracted to you and you have to live an honest life. Be able to take care of yourself and your responsibilities in an honest, lawful way. Don’t be a complete idiot. I would like a Black man. That’s about it, I’m flexible on the rest, within reason. No height or salary requirements. And as for me, like I said, I know there’s a little more of me to love lately, but I don’t think that’s it either. When I go to the mall or just out and about, I’m seeing lots of women with a whole, whole, whole lot more to love and they’re not alone.

So what I need to know is what men are really interested in. There are some things I’ll never be. I’ll never be a model. I’ll never be younger. I’ll never be more naïve. But, I imagine (ok, I hope), there are other things men are interested in. I’d like to know what they are, because I’d like to give myself a fighting chance. I want to know what I’m up against. I don’t need to hear about how I need to pray or be patient or anything like that. I need to know what men want. I need some ideas. I’m not promising I’ll be doing a complete rehaul, but I the fact is if I don’t change something, nothing is going to change.

What you got? I’m all ears.