It seemed like everyone everywhere was talking about the show. My sister watched it faithfully, and I’d listen when classmates talked about it, but it wasn’t really my thing. To this day, I’m not a big fan of reality television, unless it’s watching couples who can barely disguise how much they dislike each other buy or remodel a home. Every time I’m in a hotel, I inject HGTV directly into my veins, but any other kind of reality show just gets on my nerves. The editing is often poorly done and distracting. The overreactions and molehills that become mountains give me secondhand embarrassment. I end up wondering if the money is good enough to put up with being fake friends with somebody, but I guess that can happen in any job.
With The Real World, it was so obvious that the cast was being coached on how to respond to certain conflicts, and I felt insulted that anyone would think the audience would accept its shenanigans as real. I don’t like any kind of media that needs its audience to be stupid to work, but it was hard to escape the drama on this show, especially that of the intimate kind.
With seven young people living in the same house, late-night drunken hookups happened regularly, with someone usually the odd person out. Sometimes it was the very devout small-towner who looked down their nose and told everyone they were going to hell. Sometimes it was the token Black woman who was too busy having an attitude for anyone to find her attractive. One of the most thrilling parts of watching The Real World was trying to guess if the virgin would get turned out by the player.
It was probably all that sex that kept an audience tuning in for decades. The Black men seemed to have no issues hooking up, whether with other people in the house or in the city where they all had jobs together, but the Black women (at least in those early years) rarely got to be as sexually free as other guests. When it came to the 1997 season, set in Boston, it was because Kameelah Phillips, future ob-gyn, had a ridiculously long list of criteria (two hundred items!) that a man had to meet in order for her to consider him a viable dating candidate, let alone a husband.
Kameelah, as the “unscripted” previous narrative had already predicted, tolerated no nonsense and was often in conflict with the other housemates. She knew who she was and never felt the need to apologize for it, even if it made everyone else uncomfortable. She didn’t indulge in any of the interdating drama that plagued every season. She was a woman who needed a lot of control in her life, and because she was recovering from a string of bad experiences, including abuse, she clung to her list.
Her requirements included having a name with more than one syllable; not having any children already; never having worshipped the devil; and weighing no more than 190 pounds. Kameelah’s strict adherence to her list was meaty fodder in my various friend circles. Men dismissed her as being too picky, saying she’d forever be alone. Most women understood her list, even if they agreed it was too stringent, and many admitted to having their own set of criteria, either written in a journal somewhere or held close to their hearts.
By the time Kameelah was on-screen, I was about to be a junior in college. Although it was never made explicit, the idea that I would find a husband while at school seemed to hang over every conversation about my romantic life, especially since by that time, I’d been with DJ since freshman year. I didn’t have a list of what I wanted in a husband because my then boyfriend was enough. In my twenty-year-old mind, he was everything I could want and there was no need to think of what was missing. (Author’s note: Gag! Sometimes I think about how stupid I was and cringe.) That relationship ended after I graduated from college in 1999, and at twenty-two, I worried I’d never find another love, let alone a husband.
When I joined Okayplayer in 2002, one of the popular board members coined the term “Kameelah-Ass List” to describe…well, the checklist women subscribe to when it comes to dating. People don’t like to admit it, but we all have a Kameelah-Ass List. Folks need standards! You can’t let everyone into your life just because they smile at you.
I was still in my early twenties when I put together my own KAL. Of course, I wrote it out by hand in a journal, but one day I decided to type it up and save it to a portable hard drive. I must’ve known I’d need to keep it for posterity, known that the act of writing and saving it would be important for my future self. That good ole mythical “Society” tells women we don’t know what we want in a partner, and yet when we create a list of what we want, we’re told we’re too picky, that we should be open to anyone who pays attention to us. So what’s a girl to do?
I tried to write out one hundred things I wanted in a husband but gave up after eighty-six. My list had started to feel too obsessive, and I was worried I could miss out on someone really good just because he didn’t make me squirt (item 43). I mean, I still kept that item in because…well, it just felt fun.
When I wrote my own Kameelah-Ass List, I had started my ho phase, that part of life after serial monogamy when you realize you have to change your routine to get something different. Up until then, I hadn’t known who I was outside of committed relationships. I didn’t know who I was when I wasn’t someone’s girlfriend. So I decided to play the field. I wanted to know what it was like to have a roster of men at my fingertips. For about three or four years, I learned more about what I wanted from relationships, casual and committed, and what I wanted from sex. The sex stuff I would still be figuring out well into my thirties, but when it came to relationships…honestly, I felt like a bad feminist, because I realized I preferred an exclusive commitment. And as a Gen Xer, by the time I was twenty-five or twenty-six, I was still feeling the pressure to be married by thirty. I couldn’t get married if I didn’t know what I wanted in a husband, so I returned to the list I’d written and began revising it.
I once showed my list to some girlfriends, and they asked how I could ask for so much when I couldn’t bring the same things to the table. I was insulted. I’m not asking for more than what I have to give. Black Christian folks are always talking about being “equally yoked,” but my expecting a partner to have the same level of formal education as I do, at the very least, is apparently asking for too much. At the heart of it, this qualification is about wanting to avoid insecure men. And every item on my list had a deeper reason (well, maybe not the squirting).
Looking back over it, I can’t help but laugh at some of my silliness and note the things I’m more flexible about now. If I ever get married, he doesn’t have to be Christian, Black, circumcised, or able to fix cars. Many items on my list were there because they were important to my family or because I didn’t want to have to acclimate anyone to my family (#57: has southern roots). I’d amend the idea that he must be Christian to “must have some kind of faith,” even if that means only in himself. I don’t want my partner to judge me for believing in something bigger than myself, but I don’t even go to church anymore, so I guess I can remove #66: attends church with me. However, not being allergic to cats remains.
Maybe I’m not married because this checklist has stayed in the back of my mind. But it’s not like I whip it out on every date or anything. Sometimes I do worry that asking for compatibility is too much to expect from a husband. Should I just give up and start planning my Ranch o’ Men, a fantasy compound where I keep all the men I’m enamored with and rotate them, so that my favorite at any given time is in the Big House with me? Men say they’d love something like that, being a stud on call, but whenever I present the hypothetical to a paramour, he freaks out at the idea of fucking after other men, even though technically that’s what he’s been doing all along.
Men are so strange.
Or should I give up on companionship altogether? Dating remains awful. I have a lot of love to give and enjoy expressing how I feel about someone, but when I’m in a casual relationship and want to do something nice for the guy, like cook and let him have some food (not cook for him—big difference!), he acts like it’s a marriage proposal. I enjoy cooking, but I live alone and don’t care for leftovers much. Sometimes I simply want to share the meal instead o
f worrying about wasting food, so maybe I’ll offer a plate. But showing some southern hospitality often sends the guy running, disappearing for a few days or subtly reminding me that he’s not trying to settle down any time soon. It’s frustrating, and it adds another layer to my defense when it comes to actually letting a man in.
Maybe expecting men to be emotionally fit and mature (item #21) is indeed too much.
For whatever it’s worth, I guess I’m still holding on to my Kameelah-Ass List. I don’t know if Kameelah herself ever found what she was looking for, if she ever destroyed or amended her own list. I don’t refer to it with any seriousness anymore. It’s been over fifteen years, almost twenty, since I first wrote it. Since there are many things I’d remove now, does that mean I’m settling—that I’m old and no one wants me, so I’d better take what I can get? Or does it mean I’ve become more openminded and generous about what my needs are? I’m honestly not sure, but I guess I’ll keep holding on to the list, if for no other reason than to laugh at myself.
My Husband
Christian
I used to work at a Christian publishing company in Nashville, and one day, one of the editors asked me what I was looking for in a husband. I rattled off a bunch of things, and he said, “There’s only one thing missing.” I said, “What?” He said, “Where is God on this list?” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes, but later it did bother me that I hadn’t thought about my potential partner’s spiritual practice, so when I created this list, I made sure to put his religion first. Now, I’m less concerned about him being Christian, but I would like him to believe in a higher power and/or to respect that I do.
Happy
I wrote “happy” in response to having dealt with emotionally abusive boyfriends. I was tired of being an emotional punching bag/emotional sponge that was fuckable. Now, I’d change this to something that shows he focuses on having good mental health.
Intelligent
Talented, with a serious, productive hobby
I cannot be, and refuse to be, the only thing he has going on in his life. Our relationship can’t be his only source of joy, rest, therapy, etc.
Formally educated, with at least a bachelor’s degree
Whew. I’ve dated guys who didn’t have a college education, and it was not an insignificant problem area for them. They frequently brought it up or tried to prove themselves in unnecessary ways, and I’m over it. If I threw out some random fact or said I already knew something they were trying to teach me, they’d ask where I learned it. I’d say college or grad school, and they’d either get quiet or say something a little sharp, like “Well, aren’t you Miss Know-It-All.” With this, I’m trying to avoid anyone else’s resentment.
Faithful
Honest
Physically attractive
I recently went through a phase where I messed with guys I didn’t find attractive. I was trying to prove to myself that looks don’t matter, but this mission was a failure. I hooked up with a guy who had a huge block-shaped head. It was so hard for me to look at him that he thought I was shy. The final straw was the guy who looked like a metalhead Santa Claus.
Black
I’m a little more flexible about this now. I couldn’t imagine being with someone I would have to explain the show Martin to. Dating outside my race has been an adventure, and I honestly have no idea who will be the man lucky enough to lock me down. I just hope he’s someone who won’t freak out about my hair bonnet.
Physically fit, healthy, and active
This is as much about me as it is him. I’d like someone who will help me be more active…but hiking on a first date is out.
Reasonably spontaneous
Enjoys travel
Middle- to upper-class
I’m so tired of being broke.
No children from a previous relationship
I don’t think I’m suited to being a stepmother, plus I know I’m selfish and I don’t want to have to deal with any exes.
Good lover
Compatibly freaky with me
Nice hair
I love grabbing hair.
Wants children and to get married
I don’t know if I want children anymore. I think my uterus is ready to retire, and I really enjoy being able to get up and go without having to work out childcare plans. Children are expensive, and as I just mentioned, I’m tired of being broke. I do still want to get married though.
Is my best friend and offers good counsel
This was definitely me repeating some shit I heard elsewhere. I guess it would be nice if my husband was my best friend, as long as he wasn’t my only friend, which is where, I think, a lot of couples’ expectations get messed up. I do still hope he will give good advice, with my best interests in mind.
Has a good family relationship
Emotionally fit and mature
I need someone who knows how to express himself, who is self-aware, and who I am not expected to fix. Good luck to me.
Affectionate
Smells good
Respectful
Enjoys cooking and cooks well
Romantic
Focused, committed, and disciplined
I have trouble remaining focused and disciplined, so I need someone who can balance me out.
Generous
I like being spoiled.
Strong—emotionally, mentally, physically
I have no upper-body strength, so I need someone who can carry heavy shit, including me.
Is not emotionally or physically abusive
Relationship and family PTSD is real.
Gets along with my family
Keeps me sexually and emotionally satisfied
Pays bills on time
Good with money
Likes to spoil me
No diseases
No drug or alcohol abuse
Appreciates and respects my talents
No physical, emotional, or mental defects
I’m a bit more flexible on this as well. We’ve all got some shit with us.
Circumcised
This was very American of me, but I have since, uh, been exposed to penises that were not circumcised, and I gotta say…we should stop cutting off foreskins.
No STDs or history of STDs
No previous marriages or engagements
I didn’t want to have to compete with any more ghosts. But I’ve since changed my mind about this, as well.
Can make me squirt
This is so silly, but if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.
Works with his hands
Can fix cars
Likes and is not allergic to cats
My first cat was Pasha, who I loved to pieces, and now I have Calliope, who loves booty rubs and intense eye contact, so anyone I’m with will need to be able to hang with a cat who needs as much attention as I do.
Dresses well
Good hygiene and grooming habits w/o being fussy
Likes to spend time with me
Pushes me to succeed
Is not afraid of failure
Loves me
Likes me
Likes nice things but is not overly extravagant or wasteful
Believes in and builds a legacy for the future
Has a great voice
Has southern roots
This was another thing I wrote because I didn’t want to have to explain my cultural background, but I’ve since learned that I enjoy teaching about who and what I am.
Has a great smile
Has nice feet and hands
Enjoys cuddling
Gives good massages
Sexy
I want to be with someone who fills me with anticipation.
Enjoys reading
Ideally, he reads for pleasure and edification and reads books by women without being shamed into it. Bookstore dates are my favorite. Bonus points if he’s into poetry.
Likes watching movies
I cannot stand someone who thinks pop culture is be
neath them. I don’t really have a preference for the kinds of movies he’s into, but if we have clashing opinions about genres, like he’s super into horror and I am not, as long as we can alternate date-night movie themes, I’m cool. But I’m never watching anything with lots of gore or body horror, so I hope whoever my dream man is, he’s ready to watch a bunch of film noir and comedies.
In my age range
Attends church with me
I don’t go to church anymore, so I should remove this.
Likes to feel connected to me
Not wasteful
Works out with me
Essentially a repeat of #10. I was obviously starting to run out of ideas at this point…
Is physically able to have children
Again, this may not be as important as I once thought it was.
A willing, happy, and generous provider and protector
I want a man who’s going to look out for me because he wants to, because it makes him happy, not because toxic masculinity forces him to and he’s resentful of the role he has to play in the household. If being a good partner is not fulfilling to him, I don’t want him.
Sometimes I Trip On How Happy We Could Be Page 15