Side Chick Approved?

Disclaimer: I may sound petty and whiny but it’ my blog. I can be petty and whiny if I want to.

For the past couple of years I have noticed that the men I was involved with sexually or otherwise are now in stable relationships with other women. At first I did not give a damn but lately, it has been doing something to my spirit y’all. The One Who Loves To Text, The One Who Was My Lawyer, The One Who Is Special, and The One Who Was Too Young are now parading their relationships for all of Facebook to see.  I find this peculiar because half of these guys claimed that they didn’t want Facebook in their business when we were involved. Things that make you go hmm.

Anywho…a particular incident had an effect on me and it came from somewhere I least expected. For the past year or so, Young and I have been constant contact. He claimed that he was single and that he wanted me to be his boo. Of course I did not take him too seriously. I won’t fake the funk; a part of me liked the attention. After our horrible sexual encounter, I did not feel the need the have sex with him again. That sure didn’t stop him from trying though! A part of me found his persistence somewhat endearing. It made me feel desired.

To make a long story short, I saw that he recently got engaged to his girlfriend on Facebook. Yep. Girlfriend. It turned out he had one the entire time.  There he was on bended knee proposing to a dainty petite woman as their closest friends look on.  Soon to follow were pics of her showing off her ring which was pretty damn gorgeous by the way.

Jealousy started to set in. Why was she the type of chick that a man wanted to marry? Furthermore, why was I the type of chick that guys wanted to fool around with secretly?  Was I not pretty enough? Was I too fat? Too mousy? Just a wet hole and nothing more? All of these self-defeating thoughts and more swam in my head. Why was this affecting me so much?! I don’t even like this dude romantically. I’m still gaga over The One Who Is a Silver Fox!

A few days later, Young had the nerve to contact me via text message.

 

Young: I want to take you out to breakfast.

Me: I’m pretty sure your fiancée wouldn’t like that. You’ve been acting like you didn’t have someone the whole time.

Young:
sideeye

 

Young: Lol you can be my side boo if you like. I’ll pay you.

Me: I’ll pass. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty little secret. I don’t want to be a side boo, chick, bitch, pussy, etc. Call me silly but I’d like to think that I deserve more than that.

Young: You do tho.

Young: I’ll still buy you breakfast lol.

Me: Thanks but no thanks.

I don’t know why I even replied to his text anyway. Perhaps I was looking for a “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my fiancee” apology.  I definitely wasn’t looking for a “You can be my side chick and I’ll pay you like a hooker” type of ish.

It is not the fact that he got engaged per se. It’s a combination of things. It seems like dudes are by passing me like I have Ebola when it comes to relationships. I’m 35, childless, and sleep alone every damn night. Am I not a fucking catch? A sista can not live on dick alone.

I’m either faced with unrequited love or attract dudes who want a side chick. Do I have “Side Chick Approved” stamped on my forehead? I can not say that I’m completely faultless though; I let men treat me this way for far too long. Perhaps I didn’t think I was worthy to receive more. Sigh. At this point, I’m just done. So done.

Should I Settle Too?

All this time I have been waiting for Prince Charming. In the meantime, I have been entertaining and dodging frogs as a temporary distraction. I know what to expect from frogs. I expect for them to be slimy and to leap in and out my vagina, mouth, and/or anus life. I’m not saying that I’ve been holding out for an Idris Elba or Channing Tatum but I’m sure as hell don’t want a Ray-Ray. A Ray-Ray is unemployed, misogynistic, and has several baby mamas and felonies. No sir or ma’am! I don’t care how big his dick may be. Wait…hold up. How big is it again???

What if the perfect man doesn’t exist? I’m sure as hell not the perfect woman. I’m bipolar, overweight, and financially unstable. Sure I have positive attributes but who gives a rat’s ass if you’re not a video vixen or a Victoria Secrets model.

Should I just settle for a Ray-Ray? Maybe Ray-Ray is a really nice guy but just a product of his environment. Besides, it seems like most of the women I know are settling anyway. Should I just say “fuck it” and join the crowd? It’s not like I’m not used to dealing with bs anyway. At least I won’t go to the movies alone anymore and the other side of the bed will be occupied at night.

I have a friend who is shacking up with an unemployed drug addict who doubles as her man bitch. Of course he disappears on binges from time to time but at least he cooks, shaves her va jay jay, gives her pedicures, and babysits the kids. I have a relative that is involved with a verbally abusive man who is also on the down low. Of course he may be sending out sexually suggestive messages to other men and claims he’s not gay or bi but at least he lets her sleep on his sister’s floor (after he destroyed her furniture and got her evicted). I know a wife who is verbally abused by her husband on a regularly. Of course he’s a big ole meanie who is suspected of cheating but he appears to be good father and provider. I know another wife who got married for financial security. Of course she may not be in love with her husband but at least she got a boob job and is always going on cruises and vacations. Actually, her situation doesn’t sound too bad after all. Sign me up for that…minus the boob job. I have enough to feed an entire village!

Is this what relationships have become? Does true love even exist anymore? Are people settling for less because they don’t want to be alone or broke? I’m not scared of lonely like Beyoncé but I’m sure quite sick of it.

Well, since you asked Mr. Wonka...

Don’t mind if I do Mr. Wonka. What an awesome suggestion!

Honestly, I thought my chances would improve if I dated outside my race. Wrong! Soothed fetishized me and used me as his kinky sex guinea pig. Although our BDSM experiences were quite illuminating, liberating, and hot, I was never a romantic option for him. He told me in so many words that a Black woman wasn’t who he envisioned as a potential mate. Although Intrigue didn’t fetishized me, he didn’t come around often and demanded discretion. Silver Fox is different but I don’t know if he’ll ever pick up what I’m dropping.

The lack of a mate is troublesome to my mother. She won’t stop hinting about my age and my need to get pregnant. She is always recommending some “get your body ready for a baby” supplements that she’s seen in the newspaper or television. She has even attempted to hook me up with a guy I dated as a teen. The One Who Was Troubled introduced me to cunnilingus and orgasms in the spring of ‘94. Perhaps a 14 year old should have been hanging out at the mall instead of having orgasms but it is what it is. Although he was a sweet person, he suffered from a mental illness and was intellectually impaired. I visited him in psych facility after a failed suicide attempt. We drifted apart eventually. As a 14 year old, I wasn’t equipped to deal with his issues. I’ve always known that he carried a torch for me. Throughout the years I’ve managed to let him down gently. His wife passed away in recent years and he has two little girls. He gave my sister his phone number and wants me to call.

Should I call?

Should I settle?