by Michael Reid
Friends last longer than lovers.
Friends turn into family, lovers turn into babies’ mothers.
“NOT GOOD ENOUGH? IMPOSSIBLE!”
“The only woman who will never get what she deserves is the one who doesn’t believe she deserves it.”
I met a girl once, when I used to live in San Diego. Her name was Valerie. Valerie was a 5’2, 110 pound Mexican girl, whose parents moved to a small suburb just south of San Diego called Otay Mesa while they were still pregnant with her. Valerie’s parents were from Tiajuana, which is a city in Mexico just across the border. They wanted the best for Valerie, so they sold everything they owned and moved to America. As with many “illegal immigrants,” it became difficult for Valerie’s parents to find work. No green card meant no real job. So as do many people who come to our country—“the land of opportunity”—that don’t go through the organized channels, Valerie’s parents were driven into the service industry. Valerie’s father had friends and family in San Diego who were in the same situation. Needing to find work, they would all wake up at 5am and camp out in front of places like, Home Depot and Lowes in hopes that contractors and customers needed an extra hand with whatever improvement they were doing. Valerie’s mother had 2 sisters who had been in the area for years, so after she had Valerie, she began working with them cleaning large homes in the La Jolla section of San Diego.
Fast forward 20 years later to when I attended an event at a home in La Jolla. A local fashion designer was launching a new swim suit line, and they were having a pool party/fashion show at his home. Needless to say that once I heard about it, I was one of the first people there. Don’t judge me, I was a different person back then.
I showed up at the party and was in heaven. Models in swimsuits to look at, pigs in a blanket to eat and an open bar. Plus, I was off the next day. I’m called everybody I knew telling them I had hit the jackpot. I went into the bathroom with my third drink in hand, keeping in mind I had only been there about 20 minutes. (Disclaimer: Alcohol addiction is a dangerous disease, if you need help please get it). I went into the bathroom because I didn’t want anyone to know I was calling my friends.
In a rush to get back to the action, before I could even hang up my phone and take my next breath, I opened the door and there she was, Valerie. Standing by the bathroom door, dressed in all black, wearing a lanyard around her neck that read, “Staff.” First thing I thought was damn, I’m busted. I played dumb and proceeded to exit the bathroom, going back to the party. After I took two steps out the door, I realized I left my drink. So I side stepped her and picked it up from the bathroom sink. Valerie immediately cut me off and said, “It’s fine. I have it.” I said, “It’s mine though, but if you want one I can get it.” She declined, and mentioned how they don’t let staff drink. I said but every model in here is drunk. She replied, “Who said I was a model?” Then she proceeded to pick up a bucket full of cleaning supplies, entered the bathroom and cleaned the toilet.
I said, “If it’s dirty, then it wasn’t me. I just went in to. . . . . Then, she cut me off and said, “You went in to tell your friends there where pretty girls and free drinks everywhere; you need practice in whispering.” I smiled and walked away.
I really didn’t think anything else of it. I was there to have a good time, and that’s exactly what I did. Eventually my friends came, and once they got there and saw what was going on, I never received so many hugs from grown men in my life. We all had girlfriends then, so we were looking for places to have a good time, that didn’t involve a lifetime movie or a group date. Some of my good friends were more hands on than others. I just sat in the back and watched. I had one of those cool girlfriends who said I could look all I wanted, just not touch. I had a good woman, so I listened.
While I was sitting, watching the show, I noticed Valerie was, too. I went over and stood next to her. She didn’t pay me much mind though; her eyes were glued to the runway. She was critiquing every model that walked by. Fix your hand, close your mouth, stop smiling, arch your back . . . etc. I laughed and said you need to put the mop bucket down and pick up a clipboard. You should be backstage, not back here.
Her response was, “I don’t want to be back stage; I want to be on stage.” The way she said it gave me a chill. Her English might have been broken, but her spirit was far from it. It’s like she believed in it. The same way all the great ones believed they were great. That’s the first step. Everything else that happens after is hard work and dedication.
I asked what was stopping her, and she replied, “Life.” She began to tell me about how her father was helping a contractor put on a roof in Carlsbad, and since that wasn’t his profession, just what he was doing that day to make ends meet, he didn’t have the necessary equipment. So when he got down to the edge of the roof by the gutter, he stood up to grab another handful of nails, slipped and fell. The only thing that saved his life were the bushes he had put in the week prior. Even still, he ended up being paralyzed from the waist down. That was 3 years ago.
She went on to tell me about how her mother and sisters got into an argument about some jewelry that went missing from a home they were cleaning 8 months ago. The sisters ended up splitting up their cleaning service. She still works most days though, but the reason they were so successful was the three of them could clean a five bedroom house in half a day. Now it takes her two by herself. So, Valerie was forced to leave school and clean with her mother.
I felt her pain. Sometimes life does get in the way of life. As bad as I wanted to tell her that it was alright to be cleaning up behind rich people all day, and as much as I wanted to make her feel good about sacrificing her dream for the sake of her family, I couldn’t. I told her that she gave me a bunch of reasons why other people’s lives weren’t being lived to their full potential. Not hers. I asked her again, why she doesn’t model?
That’s when she revealed her real truth. She said, you know why I’m not a model? Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m 5’2. I’m Mexican. I don’t have a car. I don’t have money for photo shoots. I’m always either cleaning at work or cleaning at home. My English is bad, my teeth are crooked, and I don’t have any experience. I’ve been to every agency in this city, and they all say the same thing, I’m just not good enough. I said, “After all that, deep down in your heart, you still want to do it. So you owe it to yourself, you owe it to your family. Your parents didn’t come here so you could clean toilets. They didn’t come here so you could watch other people pursue their dreams. Ninety percent of the people out here are dream killers. Ninety percent of the people out here don’t wake up every day to do what they love. They do what pays the rent, and they do what keeps the lights on, but in the process, the light inside of them gets dimmer and darker.
Most people will talk you out of your dream because somebody talked them out of theirs. Negative energy is contagious, too. Sometimes, things not going our way is a test, a test to see how bad we really want it. The things that usually come easily are the things we don’t value enough. So, if you don’t believe you’re good enough to be a model, stop thinking about modeling. Stop criticizing other models. If all your life is going to be about is cleaning up after other peoples’ messes, then that’s all you need to be worrying about. I’m telling you right now, that would be a waste of everything you were blessed with.
DEAR WOMAN,
If you think you’re lonely now,
wait until tonight.
When the mixtures of your hormones and 2 glasses of wine
has you in heat and in your feelings.
You can’t remember the last time you felt a man’s hands play the piano with your spine,
so you decide to go scrolling through your contacts
hoping to catch a contact high
from the rubbing of a man’s leg between your thighs.
Only to watch him pull his pants up
before you can even open your lips and ask him to stay.
It’s at that moment that you realiz
e,
the loneliest a woman will ever be is 5 minutes after sex.
When the only thing that happens faster than him coming over
or him coming inside of you
is him coming to the conclusion that you’re good enough to lay down with, but not good enough to wake up to.
“BOYFRIEND BY COMMITTEE”
“There are a few occasions when a woman can have too many options—one is when all her options have a desire to be the priority.”
Some days she wanted to be spoiled. Other days she wanted to be motivated to be a better woman, by a man who not only saw her potential but understood that the most valuable thing you can do for a woman is not feed her, but teach her how to feed herself. Some days she wanted her mind explored. Some nights, just her body. She wanted it all and rightfully so. Yet, wanting it all was not the problem. The problem was that it didn’t matter who she got it from.
In some regards, love and happiness are like empty cups. We all have them in our hands, and we are waiting for somebody to fill them up with our expectations of what we desire in a partner. The longer the cups stays empty, the more impatient a woman becomes. When the thirst becomes too great, instead of waiting, she’ll find a man who may have a sample of what she is ultimately looking for. The sample will only be just enough to quench her thirst for the moment. Enough to only fulfill one of her desires. The trouble comes when instead of waiting for a glass that is over flowing with possibility, she starts taking shots. Shots of motivation, shots of stimulation, shots of attention, shots of affection. These shots will be filled to the brim with that one flavor of love that you’re looking for. While it might taste good, remember that it is still just a shot. Since you’re thirsty, the bartenders, all 7 or 8 of them, keep filling up your cup. The good news is, you’re no longer thirsty. The bad news is, the bill is going to come. Then whom do you pay?
I want you to know I know how hard it is to find someone who is going to be that one cup that’s overflowing. It’s going to seem like it’s taking forever. The longer it takes, the more you’ll want it. Of course, the process of finding that one cup involves dating. While you’re dating, you’re going to come across some people who you know may not be capable of being that glass every woman so desperately craves, but would serve as a pretty decent shot of one thing that you may want in that glass. I need you to be strong enough not to take it. Strong enough for a couple of reasons.
1. Sometimes when you get a shot of something that you know is one of the things you want in your glass, you become foolishly satisfied. It’s foolish because you’re smart enough to know that this is only a shot, so you’re still out here looking for your glass. However, since the taste is still in your mouth, you tend to stop looking for it, while you’re out here looking for the glass. So, foolishly, you’ll continue to date, and that won’t be one of things you’re looking for because you’ll think you have it. Guess what? You don’t.
2. When you show a guy it’s alright for him to be just a shot, and he knows you’re out here looking for a cup, but you drink anyway, you’re in even more trouble. Why? Nine times out of ten, when he is a shot, he’s probably a shot of something he has an abundance of, so as soon as you drink it, by the time you put that shot glass on the table, he’s already poured you another one. You might get so drunk that you can’t even see straight—too much of something is never good because it takes room away from something else. Then you’re getting a shot of this from over here and a shot of that from over there, until you get so full off of shots that you might not even be thirsty anymore.
3. Lastly, but most certainly not least, the bill is going to come. All of the men you’ve gotten all these shots from—none of which were forced down your throat, by the way—are all going to want something in return. Then, what will you do? Who will you give to? Before you know it, you’ll have 5-6 shot glasses on the table, all of them wanting you and you wanting a cab ride home.
DEAR WOMAN,
Love is like a casino.
The quarters: Your heart.
The people you date: The machines.
Just like money, most of us don’t have endless amounts of love to give.
So, if you’ve been at this same machine,
Feeding it quarter, after quarter, after quarter and you still have not “won,”
Maybe it’s time to try a new machine.
Once you’re out of quarters, you’re broke(n).
No one should go broke trying to get rich.
“MOMMY’S BABY”
“You’ll never know how strong you are, until strong is the only option you have.”
She wishes.
She wishes she had the same baby.
Just with a different daddy.
It’s hard for her to explain to her child that
Daddy didn’t start acting “funny” till after mommy had me.
She wishes.
She wishes she could have played pretend with Daddy.
Had she known that Daddy was going to disappear
Before they actually had the baby,
She would have only “pretended” to not use a condom.
Instead of pretending now that her baby doesn’t need a daddy.
Lord knows that no woman has ever decided to lay down with a man and just before she unsnaps her bra and removes her underwear says to herself, “If I get pregnant and I have to end up raising a child all by myself, I will not complain.” That just doesn’t happen. What does happen is a woman underestimates a man’s ability to be nothing like what he advertises himself to be.
She doesn’t take into consideration while she’s making love to him, that the same amount of men that talk the talk, will never be the same amount that ends up walking it. Sad but most certainly true.
There is a lot of finger pointing that could have be done toward everyone involved—from the time she meets the man to the time that she meets the product of meeting the man. All of that is irrelevant now because you can’t cry over spilled milk, and a child alone has enough tears and requires enough milk to go around.
So now we’re here. At a point in a woman’s life that she could never be prepared for, no matter how many times she’s witnessed it on television, in her neighborhood or if she’s been a product of it herself. Single parenthood is a crash course that will most certainly be learned as you go. The most important requirement is that you do indeed go. There are lot of theories and criticism that put a false sense of fear into women’s, especially young women’s, heads and hearts about raising kids alone. I don’t have to list them because I’m sure you’ve heard them all. You’ve probably heard some I didn’t. Obviously, every woman who reads this book isn’t for sure a mother, but I assume that most plan to be one day. So what I’m going to do is break this down in a way that applies to all of you in some way.
Here goes . . .
Operation Scared Straight: I’m pretty sure most of you are familiar with the term, the program or the television show “Scared Straight.” If not, it’s basically a concept that was created by juvenile courts as a method of deterring “at risk” youth who were arrested for minor crimes by requiring them to visit a local prison and meet with people serving long sentences, as a means to scare them from committing more crimes. The visit includes seeing what the inside of cell looks like, being forced to wear the uniform, meeting the inmates, etc. Of course, many of these interactions between the children and the inmates, as well as the prison staff are exaggerated, but it’s all done with an agenda of “scaring them straight.” The problem is, children have become smarter and bolder, and they see this program as more of a joke.
You know what isn’t a joke? Dropping out of high school during senior year because, as bad as you want to get up and go to class, you just can’t. Your daughter kept you up until 4am because she wouldn’t stop crying. She was crying because the first bottle you made was too hot. Then you made another one. By the time you gave it to her it was too cold. It was too cold because when you walked
back in the bedroom you realized she threw up all over herself. She threw up over herself because you put her down too fast after she had eaten. You put her down too fast because you forgot the bottle was on the stove. Now you have to change her onesie. While you’re putting the new one on her, this smell hits you like a ton of bricks. That smell is the other half of that baby food that you gave her that she didn’t throw up. So now you have to change her diaper. Speaking of diapers. Did you know that a newborn goes through 15 diapers a day? That’s 450 a month. That about $210—not including wipes, baby powder, clothes, shoes, co-pays for doctors’ visits, milk, food, strollers, toys, medicine, soap and lotion. You see where I’m going? Good.
So, when you hear people preach to you about not rushing into it, you see where they are coming from, right? A lot of the shows and documentaries about how hard it is being a single mom understand they’re doing a job. They’re trying to save you. You know that mom who keeps talking to you about safe sex, birth control and condoms? She’s trying to save you. Don’t let some parts of your life be over too soon because others have started too soon. Nobody’s saying a woman can’t raise a child on their own; all we’re saying is why would you want to?
Operation Anyway. If you missed the boat on all the motivational scare tactic stuff about how raising a child on your own is almost impossible, how a woman can’t raise a boy to be a man, you heard it, but didn’t listen, or you listened, but didn’t think it could ever happen to you, until it happened to you, and now you’re looking into the eyes of the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Yet, you don’t know
the first thing about being a single parent. All you know is that you’re in love. I want you to know that anything anyone ever told you, anything you ever heard about how you’re not going to be able to do it, is a lie. It’s a lie because they don’t know how much you love your baby. They don’t know how having this baby changed your life. They don’t know how giving birth in some ways gave birth to you, too. A new you. A you that is going to beat the odds. A you that is going to make it anyway. There isn’t a child out here that couldn’t use an active father, but there isn’t a mother out here that will ever let her child feel like they are missing something. This party must and will go on. Regardless of who is supposed to come, who is running late and who never show up, you can’t worry about what you don’t have because you don’t have it.