Are you Man-Obsessed?
1. You have been single, not dating, sexing or “talking” to a man for longer than 1 month and you feel like you might die.
2. You are single (meaning, without a man or potential mate) yet you already know the cut and design of your wedding gown.
3. When you go out for “girls night” with your friends, your soul purpose is to meet men.
4. You go to clubs and bars alone to meet men.
5. You have a “friend with benefits” that you secretly want to marry... Psst, its not a secret, everyone… including him… knows that you desperately want more. Sorry.
6. Almost EVERY conversation you have with your friends… male and female… starts with “What does it mean if he…,” “Why do men…” or “Niggas aint shit!”
7. You are successful, healthy and attractive; but, you find yourself constantly jealous of your married friends.
8. You date men that are totally below your dating standards.
9. You do not have any dating standards (but, of course you have a list for everything else).
10. Men ask you “Really? You’re interested in me?”
11. You own more than one dating book.
12. You avoid being seen with your nieces, nephews or God children in public for fear that Mr. Right, might think you have kids (because he’s out there looking for you… not!).
13. You created a blog about transitioning into your thirties and almost every article is about men, sex or dating
I honestly can’t remember a time when I wasn’t completely, utterly and undeniably obsessed/ addicted to men. It’s like one day something clicked in my head, as if someone turned my internal television to MenTV, and then stole the remote. Since that day, almost everything I did, said and thought would revolve around the retrieval or maintenance of a relationship with a man.
Like I’ve said before, I started building my life around Mr. Right, my beacon of light, my Savior. With him, by my side, in front of me, hell… even behind me (a weak man is better than no man, right?) I could accomplish anything. But why?
Ok… So, I was an addict. Love was a drug. Men were the syringe and I was playing a losing game and unlike Charlie Sheen, I was not winning (neither is he… But, whatever). And at the point where you start comparing yourself to coked out celebs… you know it’s time to change. Change is hard and fighting a proverbial itch was even harder.
How was I to break this habit, fight my addiction and get sober?… Any addict knows that there has and always will be only one way… cold turkey.
Cold Turkey, meaning no more men. They all had to be cut off. Every crush, every ex and every booty call. They all had to go. A hard dose of honesty (In the form of a really great friend) told me that none of them were good for me. None of them really cared about and, ultimately, none of them deserved me. Furthermore, she went on to asked, why the hell was I keeping them around. I fought her on this…
“All of them? Even my friends (some with benefits) too?”
She replied yes, and then went on… “If they’re so important, then they’ll know your importance and come searching for you after just a week”.
“And if this happens, I can keep them?”
She looked at me maternally. “Sure sweetie, you can keep them.”
I’ll show her, they’ll come a knockin’ within a week. Hell, even a couple of days… God, I hope they do.
Cliché. Cliché. To this day, I have yet to hear from all but one. And cliché, cliché, he was the one I never slept with. Say it with me… “Cliché. Cliché”. Damn you, Steve Harvey.
After a week of moaning, crying and cursing, I realized that I had a whole lot of free time on my hands… Not necessarily physical time; but, more significantly mental time. Without all the man drama that I warranted, welcomed and created, I was able to think about more important stuff… like, who the hell I was and what the hell did I want out of life? I had more time to read and more importantly, to write.
Without men, my conversations changed. I no longer called my girlfriends just to talk about my potential boyfriends, and in turn, they stopped moaning so much about theirs. We started to connect on different levels, getting to know each other better, realizing that we had other common interests before we turned into man –hungry succubae. It was enlightening. Liberating. Rehab 101: Once an addict, always an addict. But, this doesn’t mean that your addiction has to control you. It is never too late for you to reclaim/ regain control.
And so with this, began my bout with celibacy. I say bout because, I don’t plan for this to last forever… God, I hope not. My short term goal is until I turn 30 (my wedding night is my long term goal). Hopefully, by then, I won’t be so clueless, I’ll have conquered my addiction, checked some things off of my “to do” list, and even gained a clearer sense of identity.
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