Single, F*** the Mingle
Grab a fresh pack of batteries girls, I’m single. I know; I heard the collective gasp when you read the title but it’s true. I have been flung like a loose booger back into singledom and I wasn’t as prepared as I had previously hyped myself up to be. Not being able to say “I have a boyfriend,” to ward off the creeps has been sorely missed. And while I revel in all the possibilities of life and love that comes with singleness; I find that I am not ready to mingle.
The dating world is a thing of terror for me. I internally scream just thinking about the questions to come “What’s your favorite color?…” “Oh so you G.I. Jane?” and the never disappointing “SO cAn I cOmE tHrOuGh?” said best by Amanda Seales in her HBO special “What are we talking about????!!!” I want real connections but the truth is sometimes you have to put yourself out there and sift through the bullshit before you stumble upon the good stuff.
That’s where I’m drawing the line, as previously discussed in burned out to a crisp, I don’t have the energy or the willpower to introduce the fullness, and complexity of myself to another person hoping they’ll retain the fact that my favorite color is gold. I’m good and would much rather burn sage in my house, flirt excessively, fix the many broken pieces and love on myself for a while.
“It’s Better to have…STFU”
I’m at the phase of my recent breakup where the saying “it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all” garners a hearty “FUCK ALLAT!” from a place deep within my spirit. My trust in romantic love has been severely damaged as my emotions have been twisted, torn and shattered due to various relationships. It is at this phase that most of my single friends encourage me to spread my “hoe” wings and fly to the next available erection to ease the sadness and embrace the single life; and I thought I’d be eager to do so. Turns out it’s not as simple as getting over my ex by getting under the next. What do you do when you’re newly single but not sure if you want to mingle?
Grab the Tissues
Mourning the lost of someone alive is top three worst experiences in life; up there next to stumping your pinky toe on the edge of the bed in the middle of the night. There’s a brief period in both where you swear something is permanently broken. The pain is still very much real for me and while it’s subsiding and I’m realizing that, no, the pinky toe is still attached; there’s this cautious fear I have for a while every time I walk around the edge of the bed. The same is true for the thought of inviting anyone else into my space even if only for a night. There’s a vulnerability and openness that comes even with the casual mingle that I’m not sure I’m ready for. And that’s okay.
Wholesome or Hoedom
I entertained the idea that if I was ever single again that I would throw myself blissfully into the hoe phase I had so foolishly deprived myself of during my college years. But now that I’m here, I’m not so sure. You see, though I have spent time alone and in reflection; I also look back and realized that I rolled from one tallywacker to the next even though I wasn’t the one pursuing; I accepted being caught. Now I can’t let countless energies enter into me until I can truly heal myself from all the heartbreak and trauma I’ve experienced over the years of my young life. The expectation is that I should sow my wild oaks….for now I’m good with being a kissing hoe with the mindless flirt tease to flex my single muscles.
I did some serious debating with myself trying to figure out if I was ready to tell the world about my new singleness for a very important reason. As soon as we utter the words “I’m single” after a long term relationship it’s like cutting the hot sign on at Krispy Kreme or Little Caesar’s; the masses flock for all the delectable goods you have in your procession. Truth is, though, I’m not a little Caesar’s pizza, I don’t have a sign saying hot and ready because I most definitely am not. So no doughnuts or pizza for you big fellas; I’m spending some of my time repairing, celebrating and improving.
Showing Some Ankle
Still, there’s power in remembering that you are still a person outside of your failed relationship and eventually putting yourself back in the game is necessary. I find myself more recently craving true, unfiltered testosterone in my life which let’s me know that my desire to mingle is only delayed and not dead. So, I use my flirting as the casual “layup” practice for when I’m ready to play the court again.
My flirt game is that of a more refined taste…
much like the near touch; I’ve been off limits for so long that just the mere show of an ankle-flirt is more than enough to get the blood flowing. Flirting just enough to make you question whether there’s a chance in hell but not enough for any of these men to actually attempt to take it any further. Showing that sexy ankle as a way to find my feminine powers and reassure the goddess in me.
Regardless of whether you spread your “hoe” wings or choose to indulge in the near flirt; Do it all at your own pace. No one knows the conditions of your heart and mind quite like you do; being single again allows you to rediscover all of your strengths and wonderful qualities while reassessing what is deserving of your presence. Cherish this time as much as you can and remember “It’s better to have healed yourself than to have rushed to another tallywacker.”
Feel free to use that quote.
Alright Builders! Your turn, tell me your post break up stories. Comment Below and Let’s Build better self love affairs.
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