But I Don't Like Cats...

It's funny that I sit here in front of my computer pondering what I want to write about for my first actual blog.  My first thought went to politics and the role the United States has played over recent years on the world stage. Then I thought about hair care products. Being a black woman, my hair seems to always be at the forefront of everything I do. I thought about blogging about the latest fashion trends around the country with particular emphasis being placed on plus sized women, being that I am a woman with a little meat on my bones. However, none of those topics seem to jump out at me. The one thing that my mind kept going back to was relationships. More importantly, my lack thereof.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not some lonely, desperate woman sitting at home with her cats collecting newspapers and peeping through her mini blinds as her neighbors enjoy life. I get out there. I interact with people. I SOCIALIZE. Yet, here I find myself alone. Not LONELY, just alone. So I began to seek the advice of what I believed to be male friends. The conversation went a little something like this...Hey you've know me for a few years. What do you think the reason is that I'm not in a relationship, despite wanting to be in one? I consider myself a good person. A hard worker. A team player. One who desires to get along with people. You know, painting myself in a positive light as most people do.

When you open yourself up for critique you had damn well better be prepared for what's getting ready to be said. Sadly, I was not. My first male friend said that I acted to "tough". That perhaps maybe I should act a little more "DITZY"...his words, not mine. That I had this hard core Detroit persona going on. That I was ready to fight at a moments notice.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Not me. The person who donates their time to charity. Fights for justice with their union. Loves her children unconditionally. Has fed the entire neighborhood at one time or another. Has let everyone under the sun live with me at one time or another. Not me. He could not possibly mean me.

My second male friend agreed with my tough girl assessment. That I seem to be ready to engage in an argument at a moments notice. I thought, how could he be saying these things. We've never been in an argument. I've never lashed out at him. I couldn't understand what he meant. I began to rewind the many conversations in my mind. Trying  to edit the text in my brain to see where I had accosted him. Where I had attacked his manhood. You know, that thing so many black men hold near and dear. That issue of respect or the lack of. I couldn't think of one thing.

Had I defended myself in heated debate? Of course. Had I made good points in defense of whatever discussion we had going on at the moment. Yes, indeed. Was it that I had an educated conversation or that I could articulate my thoughts? Was it my ability to speak in complete sentences? Damn...what was it? Or more importantly, what is it that makes me..."U-N-D-A-T-A-B-L-E"??? 

Now it was time for the round table of Diva's. I mean where else can you get the truth with love? I began to explain to them what was said to me. One friend thought that I was to independent. That I needed to play a needier role in the relationship. Another girlfriend thought that I should not discuss where I worked or what I did. So that the perspective male companion would not be intimidated by my financial independence. Finally, the voice of reason stepped in. My good friend of 20 plus years. Who's seen me through a marriage,  a divorce and raising kids. Career changes and educational attainments. She told me that nothing these men said to me was true. That I in fact was a "Good Girl" and that God was saving someone special for me. That I had not met the man for whom God had hand picked for me. To stop wasting my precious gift of time with people who were UNWORTHY of it. That any man who was lucky to have me as their companion was..."WINNING".

Somehow that made me feel better. I took solace in the fact that I had done what was expected of me. I took comfort in the truth about who I really was. That I had done right by people. That I had treated others as I so wanted to be treated. So all I can do is sing my song, say my prayer and wait on the Lord.

"God please hear my Call

I am afraid for Me

Love has burned me Raw

I need a Healing

Please, Please, Please."