Dear Woman

by Michael Reid

  Just because your car has 2 seats, doesn’t mean you need 2 people.

  DEAR WOMAN,

  Every man you meet will fall into one of two categories:

  Either they are the “directions” or the “destination.”

  Most of them will reveal which one they are.

  All you need to do is be patient.

  How do you know?

  The “directions” will tell you where you are, where you went wrong and where you need to go.

  Sometimes the directions are right,

  Sometimes the directions are as wrong as the person that person that is giving them to you.

  The most important part is that they will make it perfectly clear that you don’t belong there.

  You just have to pay attention.

  You just have to be so committed to get to wherever it is that you think you need to be,

  And so tired of being where you are that you have to move on.

  No matter how long it takes, no matter how far you must go.

  Never be scared to get back in your car, and keep on down that road.

  Sometimes there won’t be any signs on the way or when you get there.

  Sometimes you’ll just know.

  Once you finally make it home, it’s all over.

  “LOST”

  “A woman without direction is liable to end up anywhere.”

  Are you familiar with the saying about how everybody in your life comes into it for reason? Great. It’s totally true. More importantly though, as bad as you want to believe that you are responsible for finding that reason and putting these people in a certain position or giving them a specific title in your life, you’re not. Sometimes, you are just supposed to sit back and watch where people put themselves.

  Let’s say you took my advice on the previous page, and now you’re knee deep in living your own life and not worried about a guy. (Finally!) However, now, you’re too deep—so deep that you start curving some pretty good guys. Before, you’ve were telling yourself how busy you are and how you don’t have time to date or fall in love or even go to lunch because “you’re really into yourself right now,” or you “just got out of something crazy” 3 years ago! So you don’t even know how to begin to even attempt to give your heart to somebody. I get it. It’s easier to say no thank you and go home to your empty house with your Scandal on DVR, your ice cream and your pajamas. Until you look up and five years have passed, and you have all the success in the world but nobody to share it with.

  Then one day you meet a guy, and for some reason, you get this feeling that you don’t want to send him to voicemail. You’ll actually reply to his text massages. You might even pick up the phone and call him first. Shocking, I know. Now, through the course of this newfound friendship, you enjoy the fact that on the way home from work you have someone to talk to instead of listening to the radio or sitting in silence thinking about how depressing your life is and how the rest of the world is just living. Great! As time goes on, you’ll start to see this person more; you’ll start opening up to them about things that actually matter, like what you’re afraid of, where you want to be in five years and how messed your credit is. You know, the stuff that real matters—not like the generic, what is your favorite color, food and movie routine that some guys drag a woman through.

  The good news is you did it. You finally put your work, career and yourself to the side and actually made time for someone else. The bad news is, sometimes you might be so excited about having someone to open up to, that you may not even realize that he isn’t the one. Here, is where the “direction vs. destination” theory comes in.

  “Sometimes a man comes into your life, not to make it over the wall, just to knock it down a little or to prove to you that there’s room for one on the other side.”

  He will be your direction. He will make you understand that maybe your life isn’t so busy; maybe you do have time to let someone in. He might not necessarily be the one, but he can prove to you that you are finally ready and willing to receive the one. He’s like the gas station on your way to wherever you’re going.

  Just don’t get stuck there. Remember, you still need to get home.

  DEAR WOMAN,

  When dealing with a man,

  You must find it as easy to open your mouth as you do your legs.

  Only the things that are open are the things that can be fed.

  When I say fed, I’m not talking about in bed.

  I’m talking about those 300 suggestions about how he can be a better boyfriend that you’ve got floating around in your head.

  The problem is,

  they never seem to be talked about during the pillow talk.

  So, if you’re still complaining about the issues you had when you first met him

  Yet, ever since then,

  You’ve only become better at undressing for him than addressing them

  No matter what, it’s still your fault.

  Any woman that doesn’t lay the foundation for how she needs to be treated

  Is a woman that can’t be mad if the man she’s been faithful to has cheated.

  As a woman,

  it is your responsibility to lay the ground work

  If you don’t, you’ll fall in love with a man that won’t catch you.

  Then, you’ll see how hard hitting the ground hurts.

  “PROGRESS REPORT”

  “The only lessons that can’t be learned are the ones you don’t teach.”

  Have you ever woke up one morning, rolled over, looked at the man that was lying next to you and thought to yourself, “I could be so much happier?” Really? So, why aren’t you? I mean, let’s think about it. He was good enough to get your phone number, good enough to get your address, good enough for you to open your door, and good enough to let him make his way into your bedroom, between your legs and stay the night. Yet, you can’t even get breakfast in the morning. That’s a damn shame.

  You know what’s even worse? You’re so afraid to lose what he does for you physically that you don’t even have the heart to open up that pretty little mouth of yours and tell him how to make you happy. Now, it’s really none of my business what goes down in that bedroom—that’s between you, him and whoever you pray to at night. (Just make sure somebody has a condom). All I’m saying is that there shouldn’t be too much of anything going on with your mouth, his mouth or just about anything else on your body, if you can wake up in the morning and know in your heart that you’re only getting 50% of what you really need to satisfy you.

  Now, before you go waking him up out of his sleep because you’re angry that he’s not making French toast, I need you to ask yourself a couple of questions: “Why am I not happy?” “What do I need to be happy” and “Is this guy even the guy to do it for me?” Done? Cool. Now, this is when things get tricky. Tricky because depending upon what your “agreement” was with him, the answers might not be a part of the deal. This is what happens when you put the cart before the heart. Now you’ve just opened up a whole new can of worms. Don’t blame me, blame yourself. I’m not the one who did it; I just turned the lights on. The good news is you can’t lose. Why? You can either tell him to pick up the worms (because I know how some of you girls are about bugs), or you can pack up the worms yourself, him too, and send him fishing. The bad news is it really isn’t your choice; you’ve just got to offer them both, and let him pick.

  “If the man you’re with isn’t willing to fix what’s broken, he doesn’t deserve to have what isn’t.”

  So this is the moment of truth. This is when you figure out whether you have a “rider” or a “roller.” You’ve got to kick out that progress report; you’ve got to be firm and let him know: this is where we are, this is where we need to be, and this how you can help me get there. It is important that you have these things figured out before you open your mouth (or anything else) because you can’t introduce problems without offering solutions. The man in him will say things like, “What, you want to
go shopping or something?” or most men’s favorite, “Do you want to do it again?” That’s only going to prolong the inevitable.

  Figure out why you’re not happy, what you need to get happy and own it. Just be prepared to get there alone because it’s hard to get somebody to buy a cow after you’ve given them the cereal . . . or something like that.

  DEAR WOMAN,

  You want it too badly.

  Why can’t you be by yourself?

  I’m not saying forever,

  Just long enough for you to finally fall in love with you first.

  Long enough that when a boy you like decides that he can’t handle you,

  It doesn’t leave you hurt.

  Long enough for you to be able to look in the mirror,

  Wipe the tears from your face,

  And say, “You know what, it’s his loss.”

  I’m tired of seeing you give your heart to a man,

  Only to watch him take it with him when he leaves.

  If that’s not bad enough,

  You try to get under somebody else to get over him—

  Thinking they can give you what you need.

  Opening one door doesn’t give you closure to another.

  The closure comes when your happiness isn’t predicated on your relationship with some fella’.

  “GO HOME”

  “When the party’s over, where do YOU go?”

  The problem with even some of the most amazing love is that unless it leads you to the altar or you two can somehow be friends after—don’t hold your breath—one day it’s going to be over. Some people might take it well; others will think their life is now somehow over. They may just want to crawl under a rock somewhere and break out the sad songs, ice cream, love movies and candles and cry their pretty little eyes out. Cool.

  Others will throw temper tantrums and via Twitter, bash every man on earth except your daddy. They’ll send rude, malicious, almost ignorant text messages to his phone talking about how you didn’t even like him that much anyway and how you weren’t even happy—you were just pretending. Not as cool because at one time, he was exactly what you wanted, but okay.

  The ones I’m worried about are the ones who 45 minutes after the break up, knowing damn well that just 46 minutes ago, you had everything from the baby names to wedding ideas planned out in your head, are now taking everybody off the block list, replying to all those direct messages on Instagram and approving ex-boyfriends from college on Facebook. You are the ones I’m worried about.

  “When you don’t allow yourself time to heal after you’ve been hurt, you take the risk of getting re-infected. The first part of healing is always done alone.”

  You need to go home. Being in love is like a party. A party that is wall to wall fun: the DJ is playing all your favorite songs, the champagne is flowing, all of your friends are there, all of your pictures are coming out cute and the host just shouted you out on the microphone, giving you a smile on your face like way back when you were 6 years old and got an Easy Bake Oven for your birthday.

  Then, just when you were about to stand on the couch, a fight breaks out. Screaming and yelling everywhere and the lights come on. Damn. The good thing is, you’ll be able to see clearly. Here is your opportunity to see people for who they are. You’ll have an attitude though because, just like that last bottle of tequila you ordered 20 minutes ago, you’ll have a lot of love left on the table. It sucks I know, but all good things must come to an end. Some people won’t accept that. Some people just don’t know how to go home. Some people just have to be somewhere because they spent too much time getting ready. They hardly ever come outside to begin with, and they were having a pretty good time.

  I don’t care what they do. However, you—you have to go home. If not, you’re going to mess around and get yourself into some trouble because you don’t know how to walk away. You’re still drunk in love from the last party, and you just can’t stand being alone. So, you don’t care where it is, who it is or how long it’s been since you’ve been home, you just want to keep the party going. Bad move because what you’re not doing is probably the most important part of a relationship after it’s over: getting back sober.

  That’s the part when you’re able to sit down in peace and quiet to reflect on what just happened. If you don’t give yourself that time, all you’re really doing is continuing the old party. What you’re forgetting is how you didn’t get dressed for this party, you didn’t plan for this party and you might not have even been invited. You just didn’t want to waste an outfit. I need you to think with your head here, sweetheart. What man isn’t going to turn you away looking as good as you do when you show up at their door? None. That doesn’t mean you need to go inside. What’s going to happen is you’re going to go in, and you don’t know what you’re walking into. It might satisfy you for a second, maybe even an hour or two, but ultimately, you’ll snap back into reality. When you do, you’ll realize that you don’t belong there.

  DEAR WOMAN,

  Sometimes you have to be your own cheerleader.

  Some people may want to see you grow,

  Until your potential is bigger than the box they put you in.

  Until the light from your candle shines so brightly

  That it blinds them.

  They don’t know whether to put glasses on

  Or to blow you out.

  Some people will never be happy FOR you

  Until they are happy WITH themselves.

  Have you ever met a person who wants the best for you,

  Until the best for you

  Means getting off their boat, so you can walk on water?

  Some people don’t have the heart to tell you

  that you’ve become too much for them.

  So, they try to tell you that your dream is too big.

  Really, they’re afraid that one day reality will set in.

  They know the real nightmare is you realizing that the same people supposed to be holding you down,

  are the ones holding you back.

  “POISON”

  “Depending on who you share your dreams with, the nightmare could be them not wanting to be your reality.”

  There was this one couple I came across about 2 years ago, Chris and Sarah. A guy and girl who, at one time, were madly in love with each other. They were best friends; they were lovers; they were everything in between. The only real problem was that they were both broke. Normally, that wouldn’t be a real problem because most of us are relatively broke anyway. A few of us make more, but we often spend more, so when it comes down to it, most of us could be doing a lot more for ourselves. We could be doing a lot better financially, but many of us get to a point where we get comfortable. That’s a conversation for another time. Back to this couple.

  While they were both scratching and surviving together, they were probably the happiest they had ever been or ever would be. When they met, they were both out of college with nothing but student loans and a degree. They dated for about 7 months. They saw each other 6 days a week, had 5 hour conversations on the phone, lived 4 blocks from each other, so they never spent more than 3 nights in separate beds until the 2 of them decided to get 1 place to call their own. It was the sweetest thing. They made lunch out of leftovers, miracles out of paychecks and love almost every morning. The best part of waking up besides waking up, is doing it next to someone you love.

  Things went on this way for about 3 years. Things weren’t perfect, but they had each other. Some days, they had enough for trips to the mall, dinners, drinks, a dozen roses and the 5 for $26.50 from Victoria’s Secret when they arrived back home. Other days, all they had was each other. No matter which day you asked them, each other was all they ever really needed.

  Chris was the manager at his local supermarket. He used to be a cashier there while working through college. He got his degree in business and couldn’t find a job, so he went back there to be a cashier until he found something permanent. Only thing he found was tha
t he spent the last four years of his life getting a degree, that after student loans and credit cards, he was making just about as much as he did before he went to school. Six months later, his supermarket opened another store on the other side of town, and they promoted him because it was cheaper than bringing somebody else on. Sarah was a fashion major, she had dreams of being a celebrity stylist, but the reality was that she was the head window dresser at Forever 21 in the mall by her college. Sarah loved her job because she got to do what she loved, even though she wasn’t doing it for anyone famous.

  Sarah also came up in the church. No matter where she was during the week, she would always find herself in the front row of her grandmother’s Southern Baptist Tabernacle—every Sunday from 10 o’clock in the morning until whenever they decided to send everyone home. She participated in everything, from going to Sunday school to singing in the choir. As she got older, she could never stop singing. While she was at work, she had her McDonald’s drive thru style store head piece in one ear, online with all her coworkers, who didn’t do anything but talk about everyone who came in and out of the store: from cute guys to girls they hated when they were in high school, as well as the brave souls that would end up going to jail because they came out of the dressing room with less clothes than they had going in. In the other ear, her music. She spent most of her shift re-tagging and sensoring the returns, refolding t-shirts and, of course, dressing the mannequins. She would listen to everything from Vivian Greene to Yolanda Adams. Sometimes when a good song came on, she would sing just a little bit louder than under her breath. She tried to keep it in as best she could, but sometimes she just couldn’t help it.