Married men are often looking to prey on single women. The other day, I was browsing a popular dating site and noticed a unique message for me from a user ID I did not recognize. I clicked on the picture and before I could read the message, I realized that I had met this guy in an Atlanta restaurant about four months earlier with my girlfriend.
During our initial meeting, he introduced himself to me and struck up a conversation about his business. He made small talk and presented himself both respectfully and professionally. He offered to buy me a drink and we continued talking. During our conversation, he mentioned that he had recently married the “woman of his dreams.” He also was a self-admitted “player” prior to marriage. He explained that he used Internet dating sites as a way to keep four or five women on his sex/date list at all times. “As a single man, I ran the streets and frequented nightclubs for ten years straight, that is until I met “Ms. Right,” he also admitted. She was the one who was worthy of the ring and getting his last name. I told him I thought it was great he found “her,” and we continued talking until I finished my drink. He then walked me to my car. I never gave that night nor him a second thought until I saw his picture on the dating site.
There he was, Mr. “happily married,” Mr. “I married the woman of my dreams,” on the singles dating site, hiding behind an exotic login ID! Although his message read, “You are beautiful. I am interested in you,” he didn’t realize he had met me four months prior and told me his wonderful love story! I responded to the e-mail message, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I believe we met a few months ago or do you have a twin?” He was online when I responded and within seconds, acknowledged he remembered me, and asked me to call him. He put his number in the reply message and wrote, “Please call me.” I didn’t respond.
Just think, if I would have never met him and didn’t know his story, I might have gone on a date with him and become a victim. I would have been an innocent bystander accused of being a home wrecker.
We must understand that none of us can make a man, much less a married man, start or stop anything, no matter how good we are in the bedroom, the boardroom, or the kitchen. He has to want to start or stop it. Period. I learned this very early on the hard way.
Now let’s go back to the indiscretions of my youth. The days of my youth were filled with the passion, excitement, and all the drama I could generate and manage. It was also clear that while I was seeking to fill a void within myself, I was on a self-destructive path. In the end, this path proved to be selfish and was extremely damaging to all involved—the wives and all of our kids. Although they approached, pursued, wooed, and entertained me, when it was all said and done, and the secret revealed, I was the one who was left holding the bag. I was still single and they went back to their wives. I had two situations occur back to back in a span of a year and a half. I vowed to never put myself in that situation again.
Married men still approach me and my single girlfriends and probably some of you, too. We run into them at the sports bar, jazz concerts, grocery stores, casinos, the gym, and a host of other places. They seem more prevalent and bold today than they were in my younger days. Yet, I still can’t help but wonder why? Why aren’t they at home pursuing the women to whom they gave their vows and pledged faithfulness? Why are they on the streets? And how do they have time to juggle a relationship with another woman?
Many would say, “They are just being true to themselves,” “They are hunters,” and “They are just being men.” However, the point is, as women, we have to see the situation exactly for what it is. In other words, we have to personally acknowledge what’s going on without any delusion well before deciding on the course of action we will take.
About three years ago, I met a man at a happy-hour gathering at an old-school, hole-in-the-wall restaurant in South Atlanta. My girlfriend asked me to meet her there after work. She said they had good food, good drinks, and great music—all of which sounded great even though that area of town wasn’t really my preference. Since she arrived before me, she saved me a seat. Apparently, Friday nights were a popular night. But before I could get there, she called me on the phone and said, “Hey, how far are you? I met this older gentleman who seems nice. He’s leaving, but I told him he had to meet you first.” When I got there, I spotted her at the bar talking to someone. I assumed it must be the guy. I saw her point me out to him and immediately his face lit up with a huge smile. When I got to where they were, he extended his hand and politely told me his name. We will call him Mr. MF. He then went on to say,“I was about to leave, but I ain’t going nowhere now. I see why your friend wanted me to meet you. Let’s party and have some fun!”
Mr. MF bought our drinks and food. He shared that he was a small business owner and had a contract in Atlanta, but that his home was in another southern state. As if he had to prove his success, he then took out his phone to show me a photo of a luxurious home and a black Corvette. He said he owned them both. “I sure would like to take you for a ride in my car. A red bone in a black Corvette is sexy,” he said. He told me he was single and looking for his “queen.” No ring on his finger. Not even a ring line. While he was no Denzel, or Brad Pitt, I thought he was nice, kind, laid back, and funny. He didn’t dress to impress, and he wasn’t the type of guy I would normally pick. He looked like he could have been fifty-something. He was slightly bald, with graying hair and a medium-sized round stomach. He had strong-looking arms with big hands and feet, and his teeth were in need of some dental work. Yet, he had a lot of confidence and was a real gentleman. Swagger, if you will. It was in his mannerisms, his walk and talk. We danced, talked, and exchanged numbers. He was fun. At the end of the night, I thought I liked him. He was older and seemed settled. He walked us to our cars and we all went our separate ways.
The months that followed proved to be eye-opening and a life-changing experience. Mr. MF and I began casually dating shortly after our meeting. Prior to our first date, we talked on the phone a couple of times. During these conversations, he reiterated that he was single, assured me he could take care of me financially, and let me know that he was very attracted to me and wanted to date me.
One Sunday afternoon he called and I missed the call. Within minutes, I called him back. He didn’t answer, so I left a message. I didn’t hear from him ’til early the next morning on his way to work. Clue number one?
I wasn’t really looking for anything serious, just someone to go to the movies with, have occasional dinners with, and do normal dating things. I still had a ton of baggage from my divorce, and I was in the process of trying to find myself again.
Since I liked that Mr. MF was ten years my senior and seemed stable and settled, I was willing to put aside some of the “superficial” things that I usually looked for in men (the corporate look, nice body, great shoes, fine clothes, great teeth . . . you get the idea). I was willing to go with him based on how he treated me. We began dining out, took a trip to a casino, went to a concert, and had weekly crab and dance nights together. I liked the get-up-and-go in him. He was spontaneous and liked to do stuff and, more importantly, he wanted me with him. I also loved that he was a hard worker and could afford anything we did without hesitation. Eventually, he revealed to me that he had been making a high six-figure income for years and over the past three years he had been making seven figures (which explained his swagger). He then said he wanted to put me on his “payroll,” so I could always have spending money. I liked the sound of that. He also started giving me very generous monthly gifts and began making sure my bills were paid. Three months came and went rather quickly. I was enjoying my time with Mr. MF.
Then, one day, out of nowhere, I received a text message that read, “You can believe there is a Mrs. MF out here.” I forwarded the text to Mr. MF and asked him who wrote it and what did it all mean. He called immediately and said, “That’s just a woman who won’t let go. We broke up and she’s still hanging on and trying to mess things up for me.” I said, “Oh, okay” and we kep
t dating.
During the course of our relationship, there were times when he had to go back to his home state. After all, he was running two very successful businesses so I never second-guessed those trips. I had no reason not to believe him. The way I saw it, “What married man could be away from home for weeks at a time, spend weekends out, generously spend money, and go to dinner at will”?
Weeks passed and I received yet another text message stating again that Mr. MF was married. I responded by asking the person to call me so I could get to the bottom of the situation. She didn’t call. I later learned, through a series of text messages from Mr. MF’s wife, that he was indeed married. Although we never talked by the phone, she would text me whenever she felt the urge.
I confronted Mr. MF on several occasions after these texts, and he finally admitted that he was married. I was angered beyond words. By this time, I was emotionally involved and financially dependent on him. For the first time, I didn’t have to be “Ms. Independent,” or be concerned with how something was going to be paid. I was focused on me. I was working out daily, reading more, and taking care of my children and my very ill dad without having to worry about anything. Now this. We went round and round about the lies, the marital status, the chaos, and the drama. He lied and lied. He denied loving her and denied they slept together. Now every time he went back to his home state, I knew he was really at “home” with his wife. I called off our relationship several times, for months at a time. I began to look for ways to generate more business with my company, and I started to apply for other work. I needed to wean myself from him and my financial dependence on him.
Several times he called and said, “Let me take you to dinner. I have something to show you.” I eventually agreed, and we met at one of our favorite restaurants. While at dinner, he presented me with a court document that showed he had filed for divorce. He said, “I know what I can live with, but more importantly, I know what I can’t live without. Rhonda, I don’t want to live without you. I don’t care how much it costs me to get a divorce, I want you to be in my life for the rest of my life.”
I started dating him again, feeling that he must be sincere and really care about me if he has filed for divorce. He continued to go home for work and claimed that he was staying at his parents’ house during the divorce. Almost six months passed, and I heard nothing more about the divorce or the divorce proceedings. I didn’t ask. He didn’t tell. We kept dating, until one day I asked about the status of the divorce. The look on his face told me everything. The responses didn’t make sense. The lies poured out. I knew then that neither he nor the situation was going to change, so I had to change.
Needless to say, he never got a divorce. I began to see him merely as a friend. A friend whose good deeds still allowed him into my space but whose lies tore at the core of my belief system about men and relationships. His contract in Atlanta unexpectedly expired and he eventually moved back to his hometown. But to this day he still makes my life easier from a financial standpoint. Why? You ask. Maybe he feels guilty, I don’t really know. To this day, I am in awe at the degree to which he lied to bring me into his life and keep me there. It is surreal. Had someone told me that a man, over 55, would or could lie so much to have another woman in his life, I would have never believed them. In the end, I didn’t get mad. I got real. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Never, ever again!
Dating a married man is always lose-lose. Even if you win financially, you still lose. This type of relationship is not long term. It merely satisfies immediate or short-term needs, while preventing you from finding something more permanent. My story isn’t yours. Perhaps you have or can find a fulfilling relationship with a married man that completes you. If so, you have to take that journey. These stories are out there, and they are real. It’s up to us to learn what to do and not do and how to deal with the men in our lives. Say what you will, but don’t hate the player, hate the game. And if you must blame, start at home with the person standing in the mirror looking at you.
Chapter 3
The Single Guy
Rhonda
Ahhh, the single man. What does that really mean? There are married men who say, “I am single.” There are legally single men in committed relationships who say, “I am single.” There are also “single men” who are really living alone and single by all standards. I’d like to give a shout out to the “real” single men! While most women have experienced each of the types of “single men” described, this chapter is about the “unmarried, single man who lives alone.” This chapter is brief. If a guy is truly single, there isn’t much to say. Yet, be aware that single doesn’t always mean sincere. Before all of you women shout Hallelujah at a man truly being single, or the one who says he is single, remember that being single offers no guarantees. You just get to skip the drama of dealing with another woman. That’s all. No more. No less.
I’ve been divorced since 2004. Months after leaving my husband, I decided that I would not only find dates the traditional way—at the office, the store, restaurants, or other places—but that I would also try online dating. So, I created a profile on one of the more popular African American dating sites. I also created a Facebook page. Not only did my dating options increase a hundred fold, but so did the drama that comes with the highs and lows of dating after forty!
Every day, I would get lists of possible dates from the online dating site. The list was so long that I could go out on a date almost every other day if I accepted the invitation of each potential suitor. Girlfriend, this type of dating makes you feel like a star. It seems like everybody wants you. The screening process, however, reduces those numbers to double digits, then to single digits, after a few conversations or e-mails.
One day, after more than a month of e-mailing and talking to a handsome fifty-year-old bachelor with a military background and a prominent position in his home state of Alabama, I took him up on his offer for a dinner date. He then planned a trip to Atlanta the upcoming weekend. Although his profile said “not looking for a relationship of any kind” and “just chilling and having fun,” I figured once he saw me in all my “loveliness,” he would want a relationship.
I loved talking to him on the phone. He was smart, grown, established, old-fashioned in some ways, witty, engaging, and verbally affectionate. He called morning, noon, and night, on breaks, and in the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep. “Hi, baby girl,” he would say, or “Hi, doll,” and then the conversation would just take off in all directions. We talked about everything from kids to jobs, life, aging, music, and relationships. We also talked about our past marriages. It was open, fun, and fulfilling.
As if to mesmerize me with his words, he warned in the most gentle and soft-spoken voice, “You will love me; you won’t be able to help it. I am a gentleman. I present myself well. I will give you my undivided attention on every date. I’m affectionate. I will treat you well because I understand women. But remember, I am not looking for anything. I like being single.” This was all new to me so I didn’t pay much attention to his words.
We went on our first date, at a very nice restaurant, and the conversation was great. He was just as funny in person as he was on the phone. He made jokes about me being late to dinner, and we talked as though we were old friends. More handsome in person than in his pictures, he dressed with style—nice slacks, great shoes, a stylish hat, and he smelled amazing. Towering at six foot one, he was physically fit and had beautiful white teeth to go along with his smooth, caramel skin. A perfect gentleman he was indeed. After dinner he walked me to my car, and while holding my hand, opened my car door, put me in, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. He thanked me for being his date and told me he wanted to see me again. I thought, Thank you God! My knight in shining armor has indeed arrived!
We talked often over the next month. Then he came to town to visit me and take me on another date. This time we met at the Georgia Aquarium; we held hands, walked, ate lunch, and talked for hours. H
e was incredibly attentive and sweet. We parted and agreed to meet later that evening. That night, I met him at his hotel and got into his car to head out for the night. I was late and we were both hungry. He took me to a great lounge type restaurant, a place near the area he was staying. The dinner was superb and he duplicated everything he did on date number one and more. This time he sat next to me at dinner instead of across from me. He continuously kissed my hand at the table and looked me in my eyes as I talked to him. Becoming even more comfortable, he gently draped his arm on the back of our booth. We had a few drinks. I had a couple of margaritas, and he had a few Long Island iced teas. We were having a great time. The energy was amazing.
The restaurant’s ambiance, the chemistry between us, and the comfortableness we shared with each other made it impossible to leave this man. Yes, I knew it was “going down” on date number two. After several hours of enjoying the band, each other’s conversation, and our drinks, we went back to his hotel and had a great time.
The next day, we talked three or four times throughout the day. We spoke warmly about the date, while joking about different aspects of it. I didn’t call him; he always called me. It was safer for me that way. Clearly, he must have had feelings for me.
Several more weeks went by and we went on another date. This time we went to a local sports bar to watch the Final Four games. I love sports. We didn’t stay out too long. He had a six o’clock wake-up call for work. And instead of him staying at a hotel, I invited him to stay with me. I had the house to myself that weekend. This time we made what I would call “love.” Afterward, we cuddled, talked, and enjoyed our time together. It felt so “normal” To have him in my room in my house. He got up very early the next day, kissed me goodbye, and went to work.
Ironically, after this visit, our conversations became less frequent. Instead of four to five calls a day, it was more like two to three. I had more feelings for him and he was calling less. During some of our talks, he would gently say, “Look at you, willing to give your heart to me. Baby girl, you gotta be careful. You are too sweet and too precious. You gotta learn to protect your heart.” I disregarded every one of his comments. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I let him know that I really liked him. I didn’t know what to make of the constant calls, and the sweet conversations at all times of the day and night. Yet, our relationship wasn’t growing. I didn’t know what to think.
Why Do I Have to Think Like a Man? Page 4