In due time

I find myself writing this piece after my comparative politics class, cooked a nice meal and chugged several glasses of wine. It’s only the first week of class but as I like to say, “A bitch’s stressed”. Let’s cut to the chase, when loneliness hits I find myself wanting to be in cringe worthy/headass relationships but the way I'm personally set up don’t allow me to be placed in that jam.

Let’s sip!

I’m that one friend, friends call when they need relationship advices because I supposedly have a nigga mindset and I'm quick to tell them let that man go and level up. I seem to have it all figured out on how to deal with men yet I've been single for 4 years. I personally would never in a million years put up with half of the shit I see some of my friends in relationships deal with,  so I completely omit my dating life because for one 95 percent of the times I'm either unimpressed or too focused on writing a last minute 15 pages essay due in 4 minutes and with the 5 percent left I'm too busy sleeping ,watching rom-coms or online designer window-shopping.

One of my goals is to be a successful attorney, partner at a firm if possible by 27 so I am actively working on that because it’s all about bossing up with your hard-earned money. As much as I hate destination happiness I would love to wake up on a Friday in my modern minimalistic penthouse preferably in Back Bay Boston or Downtown Seattle a few years from now, after listening to a Ted talk while sipping my cup of French roasted coffee, setting the mood in order to caucasianly put people in their place throughout the day, see a few thousands of dollars sit in my bank account so I could indulge in my terrible shopping habits , hit Barneys,  Bloomingdale's because what’s Fri-pay without Fri-spend?  then Barnes and Nobles at last to pick up a good book.  Good picture, right? Then it hits me "Girl you'll probably still be single af 10 years from now".

I just described bliss in that paragraph yet I still found a way to ruin it with that one question.

See, the problem is that growing up the norms attributed to success of a woman especially in the Haitian community is the ability to successfully bag a man meaning getting him to put a ring and a last name on it, as if your first name being prefixed with a Mrs. was an ultimate prize as important as your suffixes. Two years ago, I would assertively tell anyone that a successful woman without a man is still a successful woman and I still believe in that yet as I'm growing up this thought of being lonely forever crawls from my subconscious and haunts me. It’s not that I wouldn’t want a boo thang to unwind with on my granite countertop kitchen island after work, if you know what I mean but everything takes me back to square one where I question the relevancy, correlation and attribution of men with a woman's success. Addressing the elephant in the room, successful black women in TV shows, which I find myself mirrored to can never balance career and love life it’s either or, never both. They meet all the characteristics of an alpha woman but their love life is Pura basura thus portrayed as not having mastered it all.

I wish the amount of times my friends called me high maintenance would be a voucher for me to check out all those tabs full of designer shopping carts in my browsing history because Zara taste, Primark budget but I promise I’m not bougie though nor high maintenance.I just know what I deserve and picky with everything, plus that's not necessarily a bad thing. As I'm growing up I find myself being extremely choosy with my aura especially when it comes to the men I allow to actually get close to me. As of right now my dating option is the college scene, which is a hot mess,  consequently putting a lid on the idea of potentially meeting my future husband here, almost every guy in college has tunnel vision on the next piece of ass, which makes the dating pool unappealing especially with all the shit some men carry along with them, causing a lot of women like myself to ride solo until the wheels fall off.

I personally like my men intelligent, black preferably dark skin, driven and badass to add kick to the mix. I like a challenge! But not a train wreck  for instance I could never see myself dating a hood nigga because badass doesn’t mean being a wanna-be thug with fucked up priorities and no aspirations in life who expects me to come teach him how to act and raise him; no sir that was your mom's job! Next! My perfect man would be first and foremost a man of God, someone that I can rant to, agree to disagree with about any given topic such as poetry, arts, politics, abortion and religion. He doesn't need to have it all figured out but at least actively working towards the finish line. One that is kind and gentle yet will put me in my place every so often, a confident man not a conceited jerk, a man that'll turn me on fully dressed but one I'll drop my panty for right after because behind that crewneck there’s a successful black man that I know I wouldn’t mind not pulling out but that's another story for another day. Except, these types of men don’t want my ass because they're too busy chasing Becky, are emotional vaults or are threatened by the fact that I think and act exactly like them and someone eventually has to compromise . When I’m called high maintenance I feel attacked because I am subliminally being told to lower my standards and accept bare minimum from bored men looking for their next prey, I'm being told to hear Mr. “let’s watch Netflix and drink Hennessy” out or allow Mr. “the sports management football player bother my inbox with wyd every five minutes to take me out to the local neighborhood restaurant and tell me how much I am different from the other girls and that’s why he’s interested in me” or the absolute worst Mr. “I'm a halfwit and I can’t spell to save my life but I’ll call you a grammar police when I’m corrected” and maybe I’d have a chance at love. Hard pass! because I’d rather be in my bed allowing a cheesy movie to make me cry or better yet making a dick appointment with mister booty call, he is a mix of mister right and all the No no's I described above plus the dick is bomb and I'll take it served on a silver platter then ghost until next time because I cannot stress enough how much I don’t have time to let a man work my nerves, life already does the job enough.

The blueprints of black girl magic have become a lonely and people’s pleaser character whom despite what others may define as success hides behind a dozen of wine glasses, a therapist and a fly closet. One too smart woman who is actively chasing a type of man she may never call hers because that man she wants is looking for a caregiver in her and she refuses to raise a grown man because it isn't convenient to her personal growth. That same woman becomes the aunty at thanksgiving who pull up in her Lexus just to say hello and leave shortly because everyone else around her had to eventually surrender to a man so they could do what society is doing, meanwhile, she's looking for someone who can fit her lifestyle instead of someone who will alter it. 
Wouldn’t it be nice if having black girl magic didn't come with that negative stigma that we're desperate corporate hoes , that we almost did it but we missed the so called crucial part, what if there was no catch in being a successful black woman and we were allowed to take as much time as we wanted to find a man that'll test positive for at least 70 percent of the traits in our checklist. What if we could ace black girl magic on our own terms!
What if ? 

As I am on the pursuit of happiness, I realize that there is a much greater work being done in my journey than what society deems to be a successful woman. I'm actively self-enhancing. I want my career to be a plus, and breaking the glass ceiling to be an accomplishment not the center of my life and a stable dick to be a bonus. So here's to the black women who want to climb the corporate ladder knowing their success will place them in a position where their pool of potential partners will be limited but still move forward, take it one day at a time, remember you don’t have to lower your standards and settle to find love. Focus on your own without checking to see what everyone else is doing and everything will move accordingly. 
Bye for now !