I realize I haven’t posted anything in a while and I could apologize for that; but, I won’t. I also know the question that lingers behind this title: “Single? But I thought she was dating that football player?” I was. Now, I’m not. Oh well, life goes on.
Since I’ve begun my single journey (Alexa, play Single Again by Trina) – I won’t lie – I’ve had my fun. However, it’s gotten very old very fast. My roster of potentials have been drafted and traded too many times. It’s harder to develop a starting five let alone a good sixth man (I’ll explain the teams of dating some other time). My team is so bad, it has deteriorated into the Charlotte Hornets making me arguably the greatest NBA player, but worst franchise owner: Michael Jordan.
Tragic.
To illustrate the sordid details of recent months, I’ll give a brief review. When I initially split from my ex, I, to be completely honest, was keeping a couple people on the back burner. We had recently come back from a brief break and truthfully, the break up felt more imminent and inevitable at the time. I had withheld my thoughts of being with other men (a fact I haven’t shared with anyone outside of my therapist until now). I’m no cheater, though. I refused male advances until we had completely broken up. I don’t think I wanted to really end things, because I loved my former boyfriend a lot. But, toward the end of our relationship, I felt less valued, less desired, less beautiful and… it felt nice to be wanted again.
Once we were officially over, the first date I went on was with an older man. He was nice and well settled, but unavailable. He was either with his kid or he was out of the country. The second man I entertained was an old flame – the crazy cancer called me at random to apologize, say he changed, and profess his unreciprocated feelings for me. I let them both hang around for a bit before I was over it. I won’t go into detail about others….. Let’s just say they had a practice invitation and didn’t make the team. After cutting off all my pitiful ties and reviewing the last couple months, I had the eye opening realization: I was Robin Stokes.
I can’t complain, though. Out of all Waiting to Exhale’s characters and their brilliant character development, most people would want to identify with Robin. Nobody wanted to be the one who got cheated on, but Bernadine was different. People called Bernadine bitter; she did set his car on fire–like a thug though.
Gloria spent her life lusting after a gay man and sure, Savannah eventually got her man, but do you want to have to go through years of unrequited pining while he gets married and has a family to finally get your man and it’s the All State man? Also, let’s not forget he was cheating on his wife as Zeke Mccall in Love & Basketball.
Robin was sure of herself and her career. She knew where she was going in life. She could afford to take care of herself and she had amazing hair to top it off. The only issue she faced? men.
Robin wanted the house, the kids, long weekend getaways, and a real family. She wanted it all. However, there were always faults in each man she entertained. Michael wasn’t attractive enough – he wasn’t her type. Troy wasn’t good enough. Russell was married and hadn’t changed enough.
Though my problems weren’t on the same level as being a man’s mistress, I felt for her. Just thinking about her problems, my heart went out to her because my love life was mimicking hers (also my horoscope on co-star had been dragging my ass this entire time). The biggest takeaway from Robin’s character was that she was adamant about demanding her worth. instead of holding onto men she knew couldn’t or wouldn’t be the one for her, she fearlessly forged on when she realized a man wasn’t what she wanted. Plus, she did so with poise, grace, and, lest we forget, expensive hair.
If I had to die a single woman, that’s how I’d want to be remembered– with a funeral full of men shedding tears of regret because they wished they could’ve been more.
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