I think I am past the point of being heartbroken. I am just plain ol' fed up.
I'm not doing the legwork anymore when it comes to men. I am exhausted from showing how dope a person I am in general, and getting absolutely nowhere. Good enough to bone, but not good enough to date. Good enough to date, but not enough to marry. I'M DONE. No more good morning texts or any of that cutesy crap.
If these men want me, they can exert the energy. You wanna talk to me, you can call or text or whatever. I'm done doing all of the work.
I could have written this post verbatim! I entered this year feeling exhausted from the entire dating process. I decided to take a year off and just do me. For the first time in a long while, I am single AND happy. Up until now I've been either single and bitter about it or apathetic because I was so busy partying it up and being a workaholic. I never actually GREW as a single person, y'know?
But it is different now. It is empowering. I feel like I finally have my body, mind, and soul back. That exhaustion I felt has given way to relief. I have energy for ME. I'm pouring everything into myself. I'm being selfish. I have no excess to give anyone right now. I've done my part. I've spent the last year in a constant state of anxiety around dating. So many of my life decisions revolved around trying to meet and keep a partner.
The turning point came when I realized that I put in 110% of effort with nothing to show for it in the end. I was charming, engaging, low maintenance, generous with my time and attention, and like you said DOPE. I was slamming-- booty popping in tight leather pants, 36DDs on fleek, vanilla-scented shimmering bronze body lotion had me looking like a sun goddess. I turned heads and stimulated these men visually and mentally. I was witty. I was smart. I stroked their egos. I made them laugh. I made them erect. I made them feel desired with a dirty glance. I made them feel loved with a soft caress. I made them feel powerful when I turned into a little girl in the bedroom and told them how big their small d---s felt.
After I'd fake my O, I'd lie there and listen to them talk about their hopes, desires, and ambitions. I took an interest in their lives (that I had no idea I wouldn't be a part of). I offered wisdom and advice. I guided them. I encouraged them. I treated them like Kings. I foolishly believed that these men would appreciate a woman like me. I let too many of them get away with a cheap date or two or sometimes more. I'd still show up looking red carpet ready just to cook a meal together and watch a Redbox movie. I'd sit with them on a Sunday morning at their place with my head in their lap as we watched the game-- my hand stroking their thighs with my $60 manicure.
I dazzled with stories of my travels. I introduced them to the sounds and tastes of the world through my playlists, my favorite foreign films, and international cuisine that I'd either cook for them or order (my treat).
You're beautiful, alluring, fascinating, interesting... they'd all say, as they stared in awe. And then... nothing. They'd either disappear or go back to the ex or crush that didn't want them. Now that he's been seen around town with some fly chick and he has some newfound confidence, the crush finally wants to give him a chance. I'd wake up alone yet again while he cuddles with his boo in a warm bed. My recreational savings drained from the sex kitten wardrobe I invested in to be their dream girl. Add to that the checks I'd offer to pay sometimes, the shots I'd treat us to, the 1/2 I'd offer to contribute to gas and hotels for our road trips-- all because I wanted to be seen as cool and worthy. They were a prize I wanted to win. I could have whisked myself away to Tulum, Tofino, or even Tampa Bay but instead I invested my time, energy, and money into a man in hopes that he'd pick me and give me a chance to do all of the above, again, for an eternity.
I had to repeat this mistake over and over again before I learned my lesson. Each time I'd leave feeling dispirited. My self-esteem shot. My self-worth in the toilet. I did it all and I gave all I could give. It still wasn't good enough. But this was a blessing because it made me realize that I didn't need to work so hard. I could have done a fraction of the work and had the exact same outcome. Women who do a fraction of that get proposed to.
The problem was that I invested 110% into someone else and nothing into me.
So I'm giving myself an entire year of my full attention. No men, no favors for friends (something else I struggle with), and no distractions. I've open to receiving but not to giving. I'm going to Tulum and Tofino. I want to get back to the beach weekly so I can fall off of my surfboard. I'm going to a lodge somewhere to sip coffee and gaze at snow-capped mountains. I'm downsizing to a studio apartment once I relocate because I want only enough space for me. It will be my sanctuary-- my space of solitude and selfishness. I'm detoxing and detaching. I'm celibate so for now, my body belongs to me. I already feel invincible.
If a man wants me, he'll have to wait until next year. And even then, he's expected to chase. Forget what modern day courtship rules suggest. I am the prize. I made the mistake of doing too much for men who weren't worthy. My friend had to remind me that it is a man's job to audition, and the woman is the casting director (he's a filmmaker). Even if the man wins the role, he still has to show up on time everyday and perform. Once he's proven that he was indeed the right choice for the job, he is rewarded. All of the above should have been reserved for that man-- it is meant to be a reward and not the entry fee.
My solitude is so sweet that if a man wants space in my life, he better bring the moon and stars with him. I'll accept nothing less.
Thanks.
), I was thinking....ummm, why is 
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Thank you ladies for sharing your wisdom.
