Flower Print Dress- The Boogey Man in Our Minds

A few years back, I found myself visiting with a homeboy at his house. At the time, he had a woman living there, and it was the world's worst kept secret that she'd had a big crush on him. I knew of her in passing, but I wouldn't call us friends, although we were certainly friendly. While at his home, he and I sat in the living room and chatted. A few minutes later, she walks in. He immediately looked up and said to her "why are you wearing a dress?" She shrugged innocently and sat down to watch television. A few minutes later, a roommate walks in, sees the woman and he too asked "why are you wearing a dress?" Again, she shrugged, innocently getting up to walk into another room.

Only after I'd left did I realize what had just happened. She saw me and felt that I was her competition for his affections and got into gear to show him what she had to offer. Funny enough, I felt that the flower bodycon dress she wore was ugly and tacky. And the fact is, he was just a friend and I had zero desire or intention to move things outside of that zone. Still though, in her mind, she created a scenario that required her to dress up to show her imaginary competitor that she was boss, while I was completely oblivious to her intentions.

In another instance, I have another close guy friend. This guy dated a woman off and on for almost a decade. And I can only describe that woman as absolutely stunning. She's a perfect 10 and I'd give any major organ to spend a day looking like her. She has a major social media following and she's literally been in the presence of rock stars. And my buddy would share how she'd occasionally make snide comments about me. She'd share with him thoughts that I was in love with him (absolutely not true). I've encountered her out in passing, and I've always waved and greeted her. I saw her one day and said hello, followed by her name and she gave me some half-assed wave back. I can't lie, I was pretty pissed off. Like bitch, you been fucking one of my closest friends YEARS, you know who the fuck I am!!! It won't kill you to wave back at me! It is absolutely absurd to me that a woman that gorgeous could look at lil old round, goofy me and be intimidated by my friendship with him. In my mind, a man would be crazy to leave her for me, but in spite of it all, she practically hides whenever I see her out.

***

While attending Southwest Dekalb High School, I was fortunate enough to make friends with a lot of different people and many of us are still in touch. A group of the friends still hang out and meet up all over the world and have a picnic in Clayton County during Memorial Day Weekend every year. They're all quite successful and I was pretty cool with most of them. One of them, I'll call Bernard, I used to be pretty tight with. When I saw Bernard this year at the picnic, I reminded him that we used to be closer and that we'd have to do that again. He agreed. I voluntold him that I'd be spending the night at his house while we caught up (no weird stuff implied) and he agreed.

With all of my recent running around, I'd forgotten, until another homegirl, also a classmate, reminded me that this was the weekend we were set to meet up. I immediately contacted him and apologized for forgetting and offered to come by later than anticipated, and he agreed. He told me to bring my friend and she was on board. I told him that I felt like getting in the water and asked if he had a lake or pool nearby and he offered that he had a pool in his backyard. "Say less," I responded.

We pulled up to his home around 8pm. I instantly walked up to another classmate from the crew and gave him a warm hug. I'd first noticed this other classmate at the picnic this year, when we'd given strong side eyes and another tight embrace. I perched myself by that classmate, while my homegirl and I made drinks. Almost immediately, the tequila kicked in. I walked around and found Bernard and we briefly chatted. I complimented his lovely home. We'd noticed his girlfriend and another woman walking out of a room. Bernard indicated being upset about the women supposedly hiding secrets. I told him to let it ride, as women sometimes girl talk, and it's likely nothing. Bernard shared thoughts that she was acting strange and he intended to get to the bottom of it. He excused himself to go chat with her, but before leaving said "this isn't about you," not that I thought it was. I walked back to the other man and continued my flirt as we listened to music poolside.

The night wore on, and the drinks continued to flow. Before I knew it, I was in the pool and sailing. I got out and rested on the deck as I started to feel everything kicking in. Bernard's girlfriend walked up to me and told me that he wanted us to know that we were welcome to stay the night, if needed. I thanked her, but old her that my friend and I would be heading on home that evening. The music settled into the background and I quietly told myself no more drinks for the evening, as I knew that I had to drive an hour and a half that night, and work in the morning. 

I noticed both men slowly walking into the home as I settled quietly on the deck. In perhaps an hour or so, I saw that the 4 last women standing were me, the woman I'd ridden with, Bernard's girlfriend, and another woman friend of Bernard's (I'll call her YaYa). I'd started telling YaYa about the challenges of having a woman's group and putting forth the effort for women who don't always understand the difficulties of reaching out to a dozen or more women per month and sending them information and selling them on the benefits of a free support group, for them to not respond. How they'll ask me to keep inviting them, as though I'm an endless supply of empathy and time. I mean, I'm human, I got my limits too, ya know? YaYa had a quiet but firm understanding of how daunting it can be to fight through your own trauma enough to show up for help and I appreciated her wisdom and I shared that with her.

Moments later, Bernard's girlfriend walks up to me and implied that the party was over. I assured her that I understood and explained that due to all of the liquor, I'd appreciate about 10 more minutes while I sober up enough to get us to a Waffle House to eat. I knew I was in no condition to drive for 90 minutes, but I knew I could at the very least get us to a Waffle House. She said okay, and that she'd start shutting things down and circle back in 10. I continued to chat with YaYa and moments later, she reappeared, stated that she needed to begin turning out the lights. YaYa offered that the it had been less than 10 minutes and that if the girlfriend was that pressed, she was welcome to go to bed while she sat with us as we got ready to go. His girlfriend insisted that she is the "woman of the home" and that my friend and I should leave so that she could continue to turn off lights and wind down.

I couldn't believe it. Was I seriously explaining to this bitch that I'm still a lil tipsy and need a minute to get my head together to drive safety, and she was like "nah"? I understand that I hadn't been around Bernard like that in some years, but my classmates and I are still very much like family and I knew that had he been awake, he would have told me to take all the time I needed to ensure that I was fit to drive. He also would have basically told her to STFU about her priority being turning out lights, over the safety of my friend and I getting home.

Crazy enough, we had to drive to 3 different Waffle House locations, before we found one that would allow us to dine in. Lord knows, greasy food, grits, and those horrible lights do wonders to sober up the system.

While dining, I'd asked my friend if she felt the same way about the encounter as I did. She'd agreed. Especially the woman's statement of being "the woman of the home" and how she felt the need to throw her weight around and prioritize us leaving immediately, in an unsafe state, even when another viable option (YaYa) was available. 

I began to ponder if I should mention it to Bernard. It sounds like there'd been some weird stuff between them earlier, and I certainly didn't want to interfere. But some heffa throwing you out of of your friend's home, as he sleeps, after you clearly stated you need a minute to get your head together, is nasty work. I wanted to believe that she was just being weird, but I couldn't help but go back to his statement... "it's not about you." Cuz the more I look at it, it seems like maybe it really was about me.

Bernard is a highly accomplished and educated man in a small town. He's got a beautiful home on a ton of land. He's traveled all over the world. He's certainly a catch, but he's just a friend. I've never even kissed that man. I also thought back on the last barbeque, which had been the most I'd seen of him in ages. I'd wondered if she was there? We stood close to talk, but only because we had to, because the music was loud. I started to put the pieces together. And it wasn't pretty. I straddled the fence on needing to share my concerns with him, but it occurred to me that he'd want to know if his girlfriend is throwing out his drunk friends before they were fit to drive. He'd never stand for something like that, especially since there's nothing to be worried about anyway. I figured that she'd found her unicorn in a sea of broke men in their small Georgia town and tried to sink her hooks the best way she knew how. If only she understood, I'm not your enemy, sis. At the rate you're going, you are your own enemy!

Driving back to Atlanta, I couldn't help but to play things over in my head. Just like with my other homeboy, I'm not thinking about him! Not only that, his girlfriend is an absolute baddie in her own right, I genuinely don't think I could touch her if I wanted to. I couldn't believe a woman would consider me her competition, simply because I see us as two separate entities, certainly not worthy of competing. I'm over here, just as weird and goofy as I wanna be, where is the danger in that?! And this ain't even considering my celibacy journey. Sure, I'm cute and funny, but I'd never look at a woman like me and assume that she'd be a danger. Cuz I don't see a man chasing me down or leaving his woman for me. Cuz huh?!

The next morning, I stumbled into my part-time job and agreed afterwards to go meet with a woman I consider to be my adopted younger sister. We'd stopped at the new Barnes and Noble, and when walking in, she spotted a well-known political influencer. He was quite a stunning man and I watched him eyeing my friend. I loved it for her. She walked up to him and said that she'd a huge fan and he thanked her, before walking off with the woman he'd been there with. My friend gushed about how much more handsome he is in person and I shared with her that I'd seen him eyeball her and shared my thoughts that under other circumstances, she'd definitely be in there with him.

We stopped for coffee later and we'd talked about her feelings that she wasn't up to snuff to get with a man with that much exposure right now. My friend certainly has her own following, but nothing like the 1m+ followers that he had. She's finishing up school and discussed her frustration with not being able to focus on her social media presence as she'd like. Yes, she's followed by some heavy hitters, but balancing so much makes it hard for her to post as much as she'd like.

She shared her thoughts that getting with a man of that caliber would require her to be a much sharper version of herself than she currently is. I was floored. I'm not kidding when I tell you that she is absolutely one of the baddest women I've ever met! She's an absolute rockstar. She's funny, kind, highly intelligent, takes no shit, and she's one of the most loyal creatures you could ever have the pleasure of coming across. Her feeling that she's not up to snuff to match wits with the man she seeks is insane to me! It occurred to me that while I see her as an absolute force to be reckoned with, she's still struggling to find that version of herself.

I then told her about the lobbyist who I'd met while I was in grad school. He'd told me that he wanted me, but I couldn't see it. This was a man who'd worked directly with Bush2 and worked with the Obamas when they were still in Illinois. I couldn't believe that a man who was internationally celebrated could want lil' old me, who was a single mother, working at Petsmart, struggling through graduate school. I'd imagined that he'd want some woman far more poised and from a fancier school, who was prettier and more pedigreed. Like, what the hell would he want with lil old me?!

But that was about 10 years ago. I see myself now, and I finally see what he saw. I didn't know what my final form would look like, but I now see myself as the poised, bright woman that he'd observed. If I met a doctor or a lawyer, I know for a fact that I could go toe-to-toe with him. But I wouldn't have seen it then. And that's what I want my lil' sis to see. I want her to see the bad ass chick that I see. 

It's crazy how so many women can be so talented and beautiful, while still nervous about the existence of problems that don't exist. Yet still, so many people do so much to fight those shadows. How we often create monsters in our own mind, and we blame those monsters and we fear those monsters. Not realizing how many women are battling their own demons that are mere figments of our imagination. And while we look at her and believe that she's the ultimate monster, internally, we're all out here actually battling shadows.