Jump Offs: The Myths, The Realities

I cover a lot of different topics on this blog. But for the next few entries, I am going to be focusing on relationships, especially the more intimate and sexual aspect of relationships.

There is a lot of discord going on between men and women these days, and much of it is because of a lack of honesty — a lack of honesty with each other, and even worse, a lack of honesty with ourselves. I want to stimulate TRUTHFUL, open, mature discussion about these matters. I want to generate discussion that doesn’t seek to make one gender feel superior to the other. I want to generate discussion that isn’t focused on proving who is right and who is wrong, which is one of my pet peeves about these types of conversations — they are often divisive and more about finger pointing that helping us identify our issues and resolve them so we can treat each other better.

I want all of us to stop making ourselves feel better by looking down our noses at how other people behave in their personal relationships. But that’s not easy. We don’t like to face our own internal ugliness head on. It is much easier to observe others, criticize others, talk about what others have done that we never have done or would do, berate others for tolerating things we say we would never tolerate and so on. But more often than not, most of us have, in some form or fashion, have engaged in most of the behaviors we criticize others for. So it is my hope that those who read this won’t have the politically correct knee jerk response. That’s too easy. After you read what I have to say, Just think about it, ponder it, and don’t judge.

Having said all that…let’s begin!

The topic of today is “the jump off”. I want to get into so real talk about jump offs, the myths and realities of the jump off scenario, people’s attitudes about jump offs, and even jump off etiquette.

Now for some reason many people feel that being a jump off is demeaning, degrading, etc. Women and men speak in a condescending, even a disrespectful manner about this arrangement. But let us be honest and clear about exactly what a jump off is in an attempt to understand that negative attitude.

A jump off is situation in which one has a relationship that is solely sexual in nature. It is an entirely physical interaction. The exchange in and of itself doesn’t have to be cold and unfriendly, but it does have to have a certain amount to detachment to work. People should always be courteous, hospitable, and pleasant in these circumstances; what is absent in these scenarios is a connection between the two participants beyond the temporary merging of genitalia.

Now, I don’t know why this arrangement is met with such derision by so many. So often I hear women say with much scorn and disdain, “well, she’s just a jump off” or “I ain’t trying to be just a jump off”, or men will say “she ain’t nobody, she’s just a jump off”. Why the negativity people? Is it really necessary? If two consenting adults mutually agree to engage in such an arrangement and are honest with themselves and each other about it, what’s the harm? Why the attitude? Why is it so bad?
Why do men feel compelled to accompany the jump off arrangement with a level of contempt, though they still willingly participate in it? Why is that necessary? Do men find it impossible to respect a woman who enters into this situation; are they only capable of having jump offs that they don’t respect on some level? Why the verbal harshness in referring to them? Why is the jump off role in one’s life minimized and trivialized instead of being looked at objectively and honestly? And ladies, some of you seem to equate participation in this kind of thing as something unladylike, that its an indication that something is wrong with the woman that does this, that it means she has low self esteem and doesn’t want more for herself besides jump off status, because of course she MUST want more. Why can’t it be that the woman made a clear decision about what she wanted and is getting exactly that — no more, no less? And why does this mean the man is some kind of man-whore with no respect for women, or no ability to deal with a “real woman” in a “real relationship”? What if he really only wants the sex, and isn’t misleading, hurting, harming or disrespecting the woman? Why the snobbery when it comes to jump off scenarios, especially when a large majority of us, if you reach age 25 and are still single, have either had a jump off, been someone’s jump off, or both, at least once — whether you knew it or not or are willing to admit it or not?

Having said all this, I’ll let you in on an important truth. For the most part, jump offs are myths. They don’t genuinely exist to the extent that rumor would have you to believe they do. True, actual jump offs, where the two parties are just sexual and nothing else are rare. That level of detachment where one shares their body without sharing themselves isn’t easily accomplished by men or women. It is a genderless condition. Very few people can honestly manage it for any extended period of time, and there is a very simple reason why.

Human beings are wired to seek out connections to others. Now please read that correctly — that doesn’t mean they are always seeking romantic love. BUT being human is about the connections we make to other humans — our family, our friends, etc. Those connections are how we know we are alive, they validate our existence, they allow us to find meaning in the time we spend here on Earth. The inability to successfully make those connections is a sign of a greater psychological disorder that we don’t have time to get into here. Now we may get hurt in our relationships, or find ourselves in abusive circumstances that injure our spirits and souls in a way that make it hard for us to reach out to others. In some cases we are so damaged we actively avoid involvements with other people beyond the superficial and necessary. But no matter what we say or do, we still usually stumble upon someone who attracts us, who stimulates our interest, our curiosity, and we attempt to make a connection, even if the connection is just sexual. We may do it badly, awkwardly, or subconsciously. We may do it in a thousand tiny little ways that no one understands but us. But no matter how successful we are at it, we do find ourselves reaching out to connect when we come across people that ignite an undefinable spark in us in the hope of lighting up our cold dark lives, even if we fuck it up because of our own issues.

Because of that, jump offs work like this:

You and said person become sexually involved, and agree that will be the limit of your involvement. Cool. Jump off etiquette requires that you and this person have minimal contact that is not sexual. So you meet, perhaps politely converse while undressing, fuck, and part company.

Now if the sex is not particularly outstanding, it is possible that the jump off status can remain intact for a time. The lack of mind blowing sex makes it easy to keep the contact sporadic and inconsistent, two other key elements to a genuine jump off. A jump off is never someone you fuck regularly, consistently or frequently. As soon as a jump off consumes that much of your time, they are taking up space in your head as well, because if you fuck someone a lot, you think about fucking them a lot. Anyone who takes up that much space in your head isn’t a jump off anymore. They may be a lot less than a boyfriend or girlfriend, but the detachment that is part of being a jump off is gone.

But if the sex was just okay, its not going to hold your interest or attention for long. At some point, whether it takes days, weeks, months or years, you’ll find someone else you like fucking more, or someone else you just like (or someone else you came to like because of fucking them, which we’ll get into in a minute). No matter how it happens, waning interest will usually cause the jump off to die a quiet death.

Now let’s say you like the sex. Let’s even say you love it. The earth moved and the angels wept, etc. If that was the case, you are not going to be willing to make hooking up an occasional occurance. Something in you was touched; you have been moved. A connection was made somewhere inside you, even if it was made in your sex organs…those connections count too. So now you want to spend more time fucking this person. Spending more time with a person, even if its spent fucking, invariably leads to more opportunity to get to know a person. And getting to know a person can often lead to getting to like a person. Liking a person has a way of leading to finding ways to spend time with a person. And when that happens, its clearly no longer a jump off. Again, it may be less than a spouse, but its no longer a jump off.

The space between jump off and committed relationship is a huge one. It is the largest gray area in all of human existence, and truthfully, it is the area a lot of our personal relationships operate in. Many of us have that person we are intimate with, who has clearly stopped being jump off status a while ago, (even if this hasn’t been verbally acknowlewdged by either party), who has yet to fully, openly, and willingly shoulder all the burdens of a committed relationship. They might appear to in their actions at times, but the “out” is always there — the “out” being that the person never agreed to a change in their status, and you can’t change a person’s relationship status without their consent. That “out” is the single most frustrating thing about this vast gray area in which most relationships exist. So these gray area living/extended and remixed jump off situations become like giant relationship waiting rooms…the places where people pass the time hoping their conditions improve.

The other big myth surrounding the jump off scenario is that it can’t change. That isn’t true at all. In my experience and observation, a situation like this has just as much of a chance of surviving as any other kind of relationship. But if it is going to change into a more “official” relationship, one of the parties involved is going to have to request a change in relationship status. And making that kind of request is a huge risk; you must be prepared to forfeit everything you already have with this person. It is truly an “all or nothing” proposition. Because if the other party doesn’t agree to the status change, the relationship is over, or will be over soon. Why? Because one party has made it known they aren’t satisfied with the current state of affairs, and the other party isn’t going to wait for the dissatisfaction to make itself felt in other ways. Most people are cowards, and just ride along, sorta kinda mostly cool with how things are but still secretly hoping that one day they are offered all the keys to the kingdom.

My finals words on the topic are simple: never let anyone make you feel bad about FEELING something for someone else, even if it is the wrong person. As long as you have it in you to care about someone else, all you need to adjust is your selection process. That is a much easier task than the alternative; it is much harder to teach someone to feel once they have lost their ability to do it. And while jump offs may not really exist like you thought they did, what does exist is a world full of people looking for shelter from the unforgiving harsh world…people who want to care who have lost their way…people who carry heavy loads, manage deep searing pain and hide ugly scars the best way they know how. Sometime they may seek temporary shelter from their most personal storms in your most personal space if you allow it. They may decide to stay. They may not. But no matter what the case, don’t lose sight of who you are in the midst of it all. Because at the end of the day, you are the only you you’ve got.


One of the worst dates I ever had…

This is about one of the worst dates I’ve ever had.

DISCLAIMER: Before we begin…I feel a bit weird because the person I am writing about in this blog entry will probably read this. The events that took place on this night happened about nine years ago. He and I have discussed it a few times over the years since, and we both know why this date went so badly. We’ve even laughed and joked about it so I feel its okay to write this. And if you are reading this – please don’t get mad, because really, you have turned out to be a good friend.

And now…the story.

I used to be part of an online community called “Black Singles Incorporated” (BSI). It was basically a big chat room where single black men and women could meet and talk and so on. I thought it might be a good way to make friends, so I signed up and began chatting in the room regularly. Eventually I got to know the people in the chat room pretty well, both online and in person, because we’d occasionally have get-togethers and such. I met a guy who lived in my area. We struck up conversation, just casually. He seemed nice, and I knew several of the ladies in the room were interested in him. He was single, no kids, intelligent, gainfully employed, home, car, etc. He was a catch in the chat room, where sometimes the guys weren’t always really nice, or working, or even single.

But one thing this guy was adamant about – he would not seriously date a woman who had children.

Now I had children. Two in fact. I made no secret about it to anyone. So I ruled him out for any kind of serious dating. And as I talked to him in the chat room, I did feel a bit bad about that initially. This man seemed to have some qualities that I admired and would have enjoyed in a man, in my man. He was intelligent and articulate, things I have always found attractive in men. But kids were a deal breaker for him. Now some other ladies in the chat room who had kids still tried their luck with him, perhaps hoping they could sway him with their charming personalities, or other qualities, skills or talents they might possess. I have never been one to try to change someone’s mind once they made it absolutely clear that they don’t want their minds changed, so I didn’t even bother trying. And in spite of the other things I liked and respected about him, a part of me was a bit troubled by how ADAMANT he was about “no kids”.

I’d never met a man who was totally against kids from a previous relationship. Most men I’d met would at least consider kids, depending on the circumstances and conditions surrounding them, and how the woman was dealing with the situation. Most men just didn’t want the kids to be badly behaved, or didn’t want the mom to have drama with the children’s dad, that kind of thing. Most men I’d met, while they might prefer childless women, wouldn’t totally rule out women with kids if there was not major drama attached. Plus most men I knew had kids themselves. But not this one. He had no kids, and wanted no part of a woman who did, and had no interest in evaluating women with kids on a case by case basis. When we would talk in the chat room I told him I felt it was a bit unrealistic of him to expect a woman in the age range in which he dated (thirty and up primarily, he was approaching his late thirties at the time) to not have children; I didn’t say it to sway him, but I just didn’t get his line of thinking since I had never encountered that attitude before. But he stuck to his guns, and spoke a lot about not wanting to shoulder another man’s responsibilities and such. And while I understood that intellectually, a part of my heart still felt it was just a kind of cold, unfeeling way to be. It struck me as kind of judgmental, sort of harsh. It seemed to indicate a kind of rigidness in mindset and opinions that I didn’t care for. And it seemed like he didn’t care to consider that he could perhaps be a great blessing to some woman’s child who might really need a positive male role model in their lives. So he did lose cool points in my book for that; not that it really mattered, because I wasn’t dating him.

But then he asked me out on a date.

Now I didn’t get why he was asking me. I had kids. He knew this. I never asked him to consider dating me in spite of my kids. Yes I had discussed his views on the subject in an attempt to understand his point of view, but I finally accepted that I’d never get it and let it go. And here he was, asking me out. I thought about it. I mean, clearly he couldn’t be trying to date me because he knew I had kids. But we had become friends in the chat room by this time, and so I figured there was no harm in engaging in a bit of social recreation as friends. It would probably be fun. So I agreed to the date.

We met at a restaurant in Columbia, near the lake. I had just gotten this beautiful lavender and burgundy silk dress with 4 ½ inch stiletto suede sling back pumps that matched the dress perfectly. I looked pretty good, if I do say so myself. Now the shoes were new, so I was still “breaking them in”, so I was tipping around after I parked my car, hoping he wouldn’t be hard to find. When I got to the restaurant he was already there. We’d never met in person, but we had exchanged pictures. He was a tall guy with glasses, with a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. There was a bit of grey in the beard. He had a very deep booming voice. So there were no major complaints about how he looked.

The first thing I learned about him was that he smoked, which I really didn’t like at all. Smoking is a deal breaker for me. I didn’t know people still smoked; I hadn’t met a smoker in ages. It was like seeing a dinosaur. But it wasn’t really my concern since I wasn’t trying to get serious with him, so I didn’t give it too much of my energy. After we ordered our drinks and began looking over the menus, I figured I’d get to know him a bit better. So I began asking him a bit more about himself; things I didn’t know about him from our previous conversations. I asked about his job and what he did there to open up the conversation. He had what sounded like a very interesting job to me, and I did genuinely want to know more about it. But as I did, he stopped me. “That’s now how we’re going to do this,” his said in his booming voice.

“Do what?” I asked.

“We’re not going to do this question and answer thing, like some kind of job interview.”

I was a bit stunned. I paused, first trying to grasp the idea that he had interrupted me mid-sentence, and then not quite sure how to continue. He went on to say that he didn’t like those “question and answer” types of conversations because that wasn’t really the best way to get to know a person, etc. The only way to really get to know a person was to be around them, spend time with them, etc. He shook his head and said “so, none of that interrogation stuff.” Now while I did agree that spending time with a person was a way to get to know them, you had to get to know things about a person in the beginning to determine if you even wanted to spend additional time getting to know even more things about a person. And I have always felt you could tell a lot about a person by the things they did not say in their responses to questions as what they did say. And I mean, a first date is in part about exchanging information. So I asked, “well, asking questions is a part of getting to know a person, right?” He said, “no, we’re not doing this.” I paused again, not wanting to debate the point and trying to get what he meant by this. “So, you’re saying if I want to ask you a question, I can’t?” “Yup,” he said. Then he added, “trust me, it will go much better that way.”

Now I felt this was extremely rude, for him to attempt to dictate how I should interact with him on this date. I really wanted to leave then, but I didn’t because I was really hungry, and our food came to the table.

The rest of the evening was spent listening to him talk about his beliefs, his ideals, his convictions, and so on. I said very little. I did learn he was a strongly conservative Republican (another close to deal breaker in my book at that time in my life – I am more open minded and tolerant these days), but I did cut him some slack on that because he joined the Navy during the time when Ronald Reagan was President, and Reagan took very good care of military staff during his terms in office, so I could almost understand why he was a Republican.  During dinner he asked very little about me, which at least gave me the opportunity to really enjoy my food, which was wonderful. But I didn’t feel like I was participating in the date; I was just an audience.

I was really confused as I sat at the table. I felt bad too, because I had really liked this man, and I don’t like a whole lot of men, and now my opinion of him was changing right before my eyes. I kept trying to explain and excuse and understand his behavior in my head as he talked. I couldn’t believe he had become such a jerk so quickly. It was disappointing, and a part of me just couldn’t believe it and kept trying to rationalize it. So I made plans in my head to tell him later how much I had disliked the date, how I felt he was extremely self centered and dull, and how I found his politics as offensive as his smoking. There was an arrogance about him during the date that I really found unappealing.  I did decide while sitting there that I wasn’t ever going to see him again socially, though I figured we would still talk in the chat room. We just wouldn’t hang out anymore. And maybe I was being unreasonable in some way. I figured I’d let the date play itself out. It might get better as the night went on.

As the check came, he said to me, “let’s take a walk around the lake.” Now first of all it was a chilly, slightly breezy night. I had not worn a coat or jacket, so I was already a bit cold, and the date had done nothing to warm me. Plus I had on new 4 and a half inch sling back pumps that weren’t really conducive to a walk. So I said “no, thank you.”

“Oh come on let’s walk,” he repeated. “It’s a nice night. Let’s walk around the lake.” As we left the restaurant and went outside toward the parking garage, I pointed out to him that I had no coat and I was a bit cold. I also pointed out my heels, and explained they were new and not ready for that kind of activity. I was a bit surprised he hadn’t noticed how I was dressed in relation to being outside and strolling, but I just chalked that up to his arrogance again.

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. Then he smiled, continuing with “you Black women never want to take walks. Tonight you’re gonna walk.” And with that, he grabbed me by the arm, pulled at it, and pulled me over to the pathway that circled the lake. “But…I don’t want to walk…” I said. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I wasn’t used to being treated this way. But he ignored me. And so, with his arm encircled in mine, he pulled me onto the path and began marching along the path, pulling me alongside him the whole time. I stumbled, shivering cold, totally angry and embarrassed as people passed by us. We walked around the lake for a bit, looking totally ridiculous. He pulled me along and I was clearly an unwilling participant. But he seemed not to care. He was looking straight ahead, stepping quickly, holding me tightly, and I did my best to keep up, angry because I had to lean on him for support to keep from falling, praying I wouldn’t fall and ruin my new dress, and hoping it would be over soon. Fortunately it was, and he offered to walk me to my car, which I let him do. Hell, it was the least he could do. As I got into my car, he said, “I reserved a room at the Marriott.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “What did you say?”

“The Marriott down the street. I thought maybe we could stop over there, spend some time, you know.”

“Ummm…no,” I said. I peeled out of the garage, hoping I had run over his toes with my car.



I think I have commitment issues…but I am a woman? What da hell??

I think I have commitment issues. If that’s true, that is a problem. But I may have a greater one. I am a woman with commitment issues!

In case you didn’t know, only men have commitment issues. Women are just sitting around waiting for love, romance, relationships, marriage, boyfriends and husbands. They’re just dying to be all “booed up” with some dude. They’re just waiting for an opportunity to love a good, strong, honest man to take them off the market and away from the cruel cold world of singleness. The only thing keeping them away from “happily ever after” is men’s unwillingness to commit.

To hear them tell it, men don’t want to commit. Men don’t want monogamy, and the monotony that is often a part of it. Men want as many women as they think they can handle, they have no interest in maintaining faithfulness to one. Men are dogs running the street, unwilling and unable to settle down. And because men are unwilling to commit, and women are just beside themselves with excitement waiting for commitment to happen, there is always this great sense of unbalance in the universe. Because men won’t commit, thousands of lovely women will never have their “happily ever after”.

But what am I to do when I think I am on the opposite side of the fence as most of my gender?

All my life every woman I have ever known wanted to get married. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to get their educations, or pursue their careers, or accomplish other things. But marriage was always in there, always an integral part of their plan for themselves. When I was a young girl, my girlfriends would dreamily plan their weddings, taking their Barbie dolls down imaginary aisles in their rooms with their older brother’s GI Joe’s. Even if their mother’s told them “girl, men ain’t s**t”, (because some mothers did do that), the girls still held onto their dreams in a little corner of their heads. I never planned my wedding as a child like my friends, and my dolls never got married. They were single I guess, dating the Ken dolls and whatever other toy male representatives I could find amongst my toys (I didn’t have a brother.) I never imagined marriage really. When I did think about my wedding, my main concern was always how much fun the party/reception would be — what music would the deejay and bands play and what kind of delicious food and fabulous drinks would be there – you can see where my priorities were, even then.

As an adult, most women I’ve known really wanted to get married. Sometimes they were in a relationship with their boyfriend that had gone on for years and they wanted to “make it official”. Sometimes they had kids by this guy, which was all the more reason to “make it official”.  Sometimes they were under pressure from their family (“girl, you ain’t married yet??). Sometimes they wanted financial assistance (“somebody needs to come help me with these bills, plus I need more income to get this mortgage!”) But whatever they reason, they wanted marriage. It was important to them. It was a burning desire they would not turn away from. It just had to happen, it just had to be.

I am still waiting for my burning yearning to begin. Even in the cases of my children’s fathers, I never felt like the children we shared was a good reason to get married, much to the chagrin of my family, which has a long illustrious history of “shotgun” weddings – more women in my family have gotten married pregnant than not. But I didn’t do it.

I have never experienced that burning desire to get married. Even when I have been involved with men that I wanted to marry, that I thought I would marry, it never burned inside me. It was never the most important thing to me. It never kept me up nights. I never ached to be wed. I ached to be with them, yes, but not as a wife necessarily. Being with them was my primary focus, not the marriage part. Now don’t get me wrong…I did want marriage yes, and I wanted it very much, but…it just never seemed to inflame me like it inflamed other women. And in every case where I was involved with a man I thought I would marry, at some point I ended the relationship.

In some cases, I sabotaged the relationship with unrealistic demands, and when the mere mortal of a man failed to meet them, I ended the relationship. Sometimes I was unfaithful, and when I started doing that I knew I had to go, so I ended the relationship. Sometimes I knew the man would never be happy and satisfied with who I really was at the core of me, and I ended the relationship. Sometimes I felt like he just thought it was time (“well I’m getting older, I don’t wanna be the old dude at the club so…let’s do this!), and to me that was never enough reason to get married, so I didn’t do it. I have returned engagement rings, cancelled appointments to look at dresses and the whole nine. All this leads me to wonder if my fear is commitment.

I have had good men in my life – gainfully employed, college educated, smart, good looking men who wanted to marry me, and I didn’t do it. Men with homes, men with cars, men with ambition and dreams, men with substance mentally, emotionally and spiritually, men who treated me well. As I write this I can think of four men with those qualities who I could call right now who would be more than happy to seriously date me, and if I put my mind to it I could be Mrs. Somebody in six months – maybe less, with a bad ass ring to seal the deal. But I don’t make any of those calls.  Even on the days I complain about being single, how I wish I could find love, and more importantly, acceptance in the arms of a man who would cherish and honor me, I can’t help but taste the hypocrisy in my mouth as I think about the men I keep at arms length for whatever reason.

Sometimes I think my biggest fear is being forced to be something I don’t want to be. In a lot of my past, I have dated men who really thought I was perfect, except for one or two things they wanted me to adjust. Unfortunately, the things they wanted me to “adjust” were things that were too much of a part of my essence. It always seemed like there was something wrong with me when it came to these men, and I always left rather than cut off pieces of me to fit. And right now, I can’t imagine it would be easy for a man to want me for a wife. I just don’t look like, sound like, act like, anyone’s idea of a wife I guess. When men picture their wives, a woman like me doesn’t pop into their heads. Men always seem to want their wives to have these very obvious “good girl” traits, even if they discover later it wasn’t as “good” as they thought it was going to be. My “good girl” traits aren’t obvious. Anyone who knows me well will tell you I have them, but from the outside looking in it isn’t the first thing you’ll notice about me. I don’t have a problem with that; I enjoy my many layers and facets, but many men do have a problem with it.

Sometimes I think I fear getting into something I can’t get out of easily. Marriage is hella hard to get out of, and the longer you’re in it, the harder it is to get out. I know you shouldn’t enter into something immediately looking for the exit and trying to plan your departure strategy, but this is what I do. I am a planner. So to me it makes sense that you plan how a relationship would end if it ended, because it’s better to plan that now while you like the person than later when you hate them and are gonna be all about cutting his balls off. But I know if I get married, there will be no divorce UNDER ANY CONDITIONS. We may part and go our separate ways but there will be no divorce. And I always worry that I might choose a man that I’d have to separate from, and that would hurt.

Sometimes I think my biggest fear is failure. I don’t like not succeeding at things, not being good at things. I work hard to do everything I do well, exceptionally well. And in most cases, I manage to accomplish that. Everything I have ever failed at haunts me endlessly; I revisit the grave of that failure, pondering over what I did wrong, trying to never do it again. If I failed at something as important as marriage, I don’t think I could deal with it. I think I would never forgive myself. I would blame myself, feel ashamed and hurt and sad and defeated. And knowing me, I would marry someone who was my best friend, because I genuinely believe you have to have that kind of love that exists in close friendships as part of marital love. (You know how when you get totally fed up with your best friend, they’ve made you totally sick and you’re disgusted with them, but you know good and damn well they will always be your best friend no matter what? That kind of thing is what I want in my marriage.) So if the marriage failed, I would lose my best friend too. That would tear me up more than anything. I don’t know how I would handle that.

Sometimes I tell myself I am too honest to get married. I hate to say this, but some marriages seem to involve some degree of coercion on the part of the woman. She had to threaten to break up with him, or nag him into it, or get her family to nag him into it, or get pregnant, or pretend to get pregnant, or something like that. It has always been my dream that a real man would get to know me, love me, carefully consider all his options, and decide that having me as his wife was what he wanted more than he wanted to be alone or with some other woman/women. I want him to volunteer, completely and totally, heart and soul, ten thousand percent. I don’t want it any other way. If I have to employ trickery, or use my womanly wiles, or get him drunk or drugged, I will not do it. But very few men seem sure enough in their choices to pursue them actively once they make them. Oftentimes they just don’t make them at all, and wait for some woman to drag them into it. And the women never seem to much care, as long as they have their husband.  That I cannot do.

Sometimes I think I am selfish. I mean, every time I have ended a relationship I have said to myself in consolation,“well, I guess I just love me more”. And as much as pop culture talks about self-love, to really make marriage work both parties have to, on many/most levels, care more about the other party than themselves. And this has to happen all the time. For marriage to work everybody has to be serving the needs of the other person and the union 24/7, and not their own needs. Ideally, if everyone is always serving everyone else and the needs of the union, everyone will get most of what they need and want.  And hardest of all, you still have to do this even when the other person isn’t. But in the relationships I ended, at some point I decided he was not serving my interests; he was only serving his own. And I decided I didn’t wish to serve his interests anymore. That kind of selfishness has no place in a marriage, so I guess it’s good that I ended those relationships.

Sometimes I think I just haven’t met Mr. Right.  I do so want to find someone and create a place and space for us where we can be our most genuine authentic selves, and improve on ourselves individually and as a couple. I sometimes worry that my man will hate me once he finds out about the real me. I don’t want a man to fall in love with “my representative” when we are dating, only to discover me and she have NOTHING in common. I want him to love me, all of me, me as I am today and me as I will come to be as I improve and grown in the sunshine of his care. And often I tell myself I haven’t found that evolved man who can appreciate my domestic side and my workaholic side and my imagination and my creativity and my sexuality and my tendency to be overly analytical and critical and nitpicky and sometimes self-deprecating  and all the other vastly contradictory things I am.

But mostly I think I’m just afraid of commitment.

My parents were reasonably happily married for over 40 years, so I had a good example of a solid marriage before me. Many of my family members are married, and have been for many years also – ten or twenty plus years in some cases. I am the oddball in that I have been single so long, just raising my kids on my own, and pursing my own interests without even a regular guy in place to bring to family functions. They kind of see me as this slightly off-center, artsy type that they don’t quite get, but they love me because I am family. They have stopped trying to fix me up, because it never works.

So I write this now, as a single woman who may be afraid of commitment. Occasionally I attempt to talk to other women about it, but they all look at me like I’m crazy. That lets me know how messed up I am, because I am supposed to want this like a man in the desert wants water, and I just don’t feel that way about it. I am not prepared to give up all of me for it. I don’t want to pick the wrong man. I don’t want to be hurt, or taken advantage of, or live a life of misery with some man because I chose out of desperation. I don’t want my sex life to dwindle away into nothingness (I hear that’s what happens in marriage, and sex is wayyy too important to me to have that happen). I say I want a man of my own, and I have options if I were to attempt to exercise them. I’m not sure if they are the options I would choose if I did the choosing, but I have them. I could at least explore them, find out what they have to offer. What is my problem?

Am I afraid of commitment?

Find Your Sexy – Live Your Sexy – Love Your Sexy…PART TWO

As promised, today I am finishing up the blog entry I started Thursday. This is PART TWO of “Find Your Sexy, Live Your Sexy, Love Your Sexy!” If you didn’t read PART ONE of this blog, you probably should check it out first by going tohttps://misstula.wordpress.com/2010/07/01/find-your-sexy-live-your-sexy-love-your-sexy/.

If you try any of these things, please comment and let me know how they worked for you!



Keeping your body well groomed is as important to your sexy as a strapless bra. Now what that means is up to you. It could mean shaving. It could mean waxing. It could mean threading eyebrows, dying hair, getting hands and feet done. It could mean exercising. But whatever it is, keep it up, no matter how you feel, what kind of demands are on your time, or anything. If you’re on a budget, there are usually DIY versions of pretty much everything a woman wants to do to maintain her sexy, and if you need to become proficient at these things to save money, do it. The point is that you should never say that its not important to do your maintenance.

Your maintenance should always include moisturizing your skin. Smooth soft skin is extremely sexy. If you do nothing else, get hold of some Shea tree butter or aloe or whatever you choose and rub it on your skin, especially your knees, arms, elbows and lips. Soft lips are very sexy. And don’t skip your breasts and ass, because they should be soft too.  Even toned skin is also important, so take the time to use cocoa butter to make your skin look its best. 2% milk and honey in a hot bath are great too. Moisturizing should also include your face. Keep the skin on it looking as good as you possibly can too. Touching any part of you should be a soft, silky experience.

Now before you tell me that you already have a man so you don’t need to do all this, my question to you is this…why wouldn’t you want to? If he is so wonderful, doesn’t he deserve you at your soft and supple best? Too busy you say? Think about all the things you want your man to do and how angry you get when he tells you he’s “too busy” to take care of them. Do you want to make him feel the same way? Trust me, its not worth it. And most importantly, you’re not doing this for him actually. You’re doing it for YOU!


Another personal suggestion of mine is to occasionally forego pantyhose in favor of stockings or thigh highs. I would tend to recommend stockings, because I have never seen a pair of thigh highs actually stay in place worth a damn. I would tend to recommend this more for a date situation than just general going out, but that’s your call. But the flash of a stocking top with the garter fastened to it is a mysterious, unexpected kind of sexy. Its something most women don’t do anymore. It suggests a hint of exoticness, and you only need to flash it a little bit to drive most men insane, especially if you have nice legs. So, just for fun, get a pair of stockings and a garter belt, and wear it under your dress on a date. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.  And a small addition to this…


Pretty much any woman, in any size of body or budget can find a flattering dress. Whether you do short, long, loose and flowing, tight and fitted, or whatever, to me a dress says sexy., and it is easier to find a good looking dress than good looking pants. Plus, a dress always suggests to a man that maybe, JUST MAYBE, you’ll get a little freaky in the parking garage on the way to the car, or in the car on the way home or in the hallway of the apartment building, or all three! Not saying you have to do any of this, but the possibility of it is something else that is sexy


It takes a certain level of confidence for most women to go out alone. Women often have (legitimate) concerns for their safety. Sometimes it makes them feel lonely, uncomfortable, or that they are these pathetic creatures that no one likes enough to spend time with. But going out alone is sexy for this very reason. Because it isn’t something you see women doing often. It is unexpected. It shows a sense of security within oneself; it shows a willingness to expose yourself to the public because you don’t have your friends or a companion as a buffer. And most men are extremely reluctant to approach women if they are part of a group. So if you’re looking to actually find decent conversation with men, I recommend putting on a little of your sexy and heading out to the bar of your city’s most popular high end steak and seafood restaurant. Make sure you find the places known for great steaks, because where there are great steaks, there are men!


This is for the more modest girl who doesn’t want to display her sexy by displaying her body. To these women – I know a lot of times you feel outmanned and outgunned when you go out because everywhere you go you see skin and you don’t feel you can compete and still be true to yourself. But if you are going to take a more suggestive, less obvious approach with your sexy, you need to first firmly get the idea in your head that your sexy is personal, it is an expression of who you are, it exists for your pleasure first and foremost, and for the pleasure of your partner secondarily. It is not just about a competition with the next chick to see who can be more naked. You should not feel uncomfortable when you’re around a bunch of scantily clad women, and you should not feel pressured to be scantily clad if its not your thing. Because again, sexy ultimately is about confidence. With confidence, your head held high and a smile in place, you can rock a flowered housedress (like grandma used to wear back in the day?) with style and attitude, and you will not go unnoticed. The fact that you aren’t scantily clad is intriguing for many different types of men, and even with more modest dress you can still be sexy.

The key is the silhouette. The silhouette means wearing clothing that softly outlines you without defining you a lot. This is one of the best things about sundresses and other similarly shaped dresses  they are often billowy and gauzy and their flowing quality can skim the body, gently nestle against it without making you feel like you’re trapped inside a sausage casing. I know for myself I love the way sundresses make me feel when the fabric moves around me, the way the hem skims my knees or toes (depending on the length). And if you have a good relationship with what you are wearing and it makes you feel good, it will automatically be sexy. There are others ways to do the silhouette; You can also do a straight dress, like a sweater dress, a kimono or a slim pencil skirt; these things just skim over your body and over your curves gently without revealing much skin. The outline of you is present, but the details within the outline aren’t provided. This can be very sexy if done right, so try it!


Ultimately, sexy is a balancing act. And if you are out and about with your sexy with the intention of attracting men and perhaps engaging them in conversation, you have to learn to find the place between your presentation and a man’s imagination, and exist in that place.

This is why I recommend the “show a little, withhold a little” style of dress. The idea is that you want a man to use his brain to admire what he sees, and to plug his imagination into the equation and think about what he doesn’t see. If your intention is to get a man interested in you, you have to plug into him on both levels. If you have most of your body exposed, he doesn’t have much to imagine in relation to that, and now he has less to do. And you always want to give a man’s imagination something to do where you are concerned.

The minute a man thinks there is nothing more to you…nothing more to see, or say, or find out, or chase, or enjoy, their interest in you wanes. Men can go a long time on the possibility of things when it comes to a woman, and it is important that the possibility of something else, something more, something he hasn’t seen, exist. Now this doesn’t have to be anything big. It could be a small thing. But the possibility of discovery is sexy, and sexy is…well, sexy!

While I’m sure there is lots more I could say, I am going to stop here. I am sure with the information I have provided for you, you are well on your way to being a sexy beast in the best sense of the phrase!

Got things you want to add or say about your sexy, or sexy in general? Looking forward to your comments!


PS: And I did not forget ladies…HOW TO MEASURE FOR A PROPER FITTING BRA!


Find your sexy, live your sexy, love your sexy!

**AUTHOR’S NOTE: This blog got unexpectedly long once I got going on it, so it’s going to be presented in two parts. Anything I don’t cover today is probably covered in the second part, which I will post Saturday…ENJOY!**

These are my thoughts on dressing sexy. Before I get into this blog, a few disclaimers…

I understand completely that there are some people who, for personal, moral, religious, or other reasons, feel that a woman should be dressed in a manner that covers her fully at all times, and in a manner that is devoid of what most people would consider sexual. I have complete and total respect for those opinions, even if I disagree to some extent. Notice I said “to some extent”, because I don’t disagree entirely. I certainly understand the concept of modesty. I even get that modesty can lead to a certain heightened sensual awareness because things are covered and you can’t see them or get any real sense of what they look like. I definitely don’t think a woman should go around with every inch of flesh exposed all the time, and I am a firm believer in appropriateness. I also know that there are all different kinds of sexy just like there are all different kinds of women, and for some women, their sexy is going to reflect their modesty. That’s cool. My real goal in all this is that every woman identify and enjoy her sexy, for her own positive self image as well as for her man. So if any of my advice or suggestions make you uncomfortable or if you see something here that you conclude just isn’t for you, feel free to ignore that part. But please keep reading because I do touch on every kind of sexy in here so I am confident that you’ll find some things you can use. (Well, please do read the part about being properly fitted for bras. That’s so important.)

BUT…I am going to draw the line at the idea that women shouldn’t go around displaying their “goodies” primarily so that they won’t get extreme negative attention from men. I’ve even heard it suggested that if a woman is raped or violated while dressed this way, she deserved it — she asked for it. Absolute bulls**t. Women should never feel compelled to somehow take personal responsibility for any grown ass man’s behavior. It is every person’s individual responsibility to conduct themselves appropriately in any given situation, no matter what happens, what is said, what is done, or what someone has on. And…imagine this…that includes men. It is not my responsibility, or any other woman’s for that matter, to determine exactly what part of the anatomy might drive some man crazy if he sees it, and to conceal it. Should I be upset if you look at me? No. Admire me? No. Maybe I’ll even allow a bit of staring or a sincere “you look nice tonight” if I am in your vicinity. But ultimately it is still a man’s responsibility to know when to stop. He is still supposed to control himself. I refuse to  make it my job to make men behave. I don’t have that kind of time on my hands. Ultimately, if it is in a man’s character to be a gentleman he will naturally do it regardless. One lesson I am trying to teach my son is that it is his responsibility as a human being, a man, and a gentlemen to accord ALL WOMEN basic courtesy and respect, even if he feels they are behaving in ways that he may not personally approve of, or, in extreme circumstances, in ways that might indicate a lack a respect for herself. This is the standard I hold ALL men to, and if they can’t meet it…well, let’s just say I know how to handle it.  Too many times men don’t take responsibility for their bad behaviors, bad decisions, or inability to act reasonably. I am not going to add to that by taking extra steps in the hope that they’ll behave.

Now…back to the sexy.


Sexy is all about confidence. It is about walking tall and proud, head held high, shoulders back, swagger on full blast, smiling, acknowledging your female magnificence and allowing those who are fortunate enough to be around to bask in a bit of it as well. That is what sexy is. Often times I’ll go out and see very young women who don’t have that yet. They may have cute faces and great figures, but none of the real swagger required to do sexy effectively. How can you tell? They go out scantily dressed in ill-fitting, barely there clothing, then spend the entire night pulling and tugging at necklines that are suddenly too low, trying to adjust skirts that are too short and/or too tight now because they suddenly realize men are looking at them, drooling, lusting, attempting to approach them, and not in ways they want them to (in many cases, the way you carry your sexy will determine how a man approaches you, but that explanation is a bit further down the list).

My point isn’t so much about age as it is about confidence. It is painful to see a woman who isn’t really comfortable with her sexy, or how she is presenting her sexy on a given day. It takes time to find what your sexy is and what your sexy isn’t and to get cool with it. So if you are trying to learn to enjoy and appropriately display your sexy, and you find yourself in an outfit that you spend the whole night feeling naked in because you are not quite comfortable with the spotlight that comes with the sexy, you need to rethink where you are in your relationship with your sexy. Go home, consider what makes you feel good, what makes you comfortable, read some of my tips, and put a different outfit on. And when you do, you have to remember that when you’re out and about in your sexy, you aren’t just going to be looked at by men you want to admire you. You are going to be looked at by toothless bums, men that stink, old men that should know better, and the dude on the corner selling DVDs for $5. You may not want any of these guys, or want them looking at you, but when your sexy is on public display, everyone can see it. Make sure you’re ready for that.


Sexy starts with acceptance of what you’re working with, the stuff you like and the stuff you don’t like That means accommodating all of what you have. Wearing clothing that does not fit runs completely counter to that. It especially means not wearing stuff that is too small. Ever. I know how frustrating it is to see something in the store you LOVE LOVE LOVE and they don’t have your size. I beg of you, don’t get the smaller size. Especially if its something you’re wearing to be sexy.

(QUICK SIDEBAR – Ladies, please go to a decent department store and get your CORRECT bra size. The lingerie departments of stores like JC Penney, Macy’s, etc. have salespeople in them trained to accurately measure you so that you know your correct cup size and your correct measurements in inches. If you don’t want to do that, MEASURE YOURSELF CORRECTLY WITH A TAPE MEASURE AT HOME. It’s estimated that at least 70% of women wear the wrong sized bra — instructions on how to measure yourself to get your correct bra size will be at the end of this blog. Oh – and just so you’ll know, the life span of a bra on average is 3 months. Everything you need to know is here — http://www.ehow.com/bras/?utm_source=partner_kf)

You may think that pair of  jeans you intentionally purchase a size too small are going to make your ass look incredibly round and juicy, or that your incorrectly sized bra is pushing your breasts up and giving you great cleavage. Ummmm…no. It’s making you look fat, and I mean that in the most negative, unattractive sense of that word. It is impossible to enjoy your sexy if your clothes don’t fit. You think that a little extra tight, a little extra short is a good thing? It’s not. For those of you old enough to remember the OJ Simpson trial, you might remember Johnnie Cochoran saying about a glove that the prosecution was presenting as evidence against OJ “if it [the glove] don’t fit, you must acquit”. In this department I say to you “if you can’t sit, you must re-fit”.  . (You always test your sexy outfits before you wear them out – sit in them, walk in them, stand in them, dance in them, figure out how you go to the bathroom in them…all that. You need to know what to expect.) Sitting down is one of the things you must do at home to test your sexy outfit. If you find your thighs, back, arms, or belly unattractively spilling out of your ill-fitting garments, or if your waistband, bra straps, or girdle/pantyhose tops are digging into your skin and leaving marks, you need to re-fit. Finding your sexy is all about attractively displaying yourself, and that doesn’t happen with a muffin top. (This is one reason why I almost always wear dresses – I don’t have the muffin top issue.) The point is, your sexy has to fit you in every way, and that starts with getting the correct size. In EVERYTHING (yes shoes too!)


Sexy needs to start from the inside out, and I don’t just mean your personality. I also mean your clothes. Undergarments are just as important (in some cases more important) as what you wear on the outside.

Appropriate undergarments enhance your sexy. You get to display the smooth skin of your bare arms, shoulders and back without distracting bra straps, clasps, and hooks. (Now in some cases, a hint of strap can enhance your sexy, but you need to be very careful with this. The straps need to match your outfit, need to look good and not look at all frayed or worn, and should not draw so much attention to themselves that they draw attention away from the rest of you and your look.)  This means (depending on what your needs are) strapless bras, long line bras, plunge bras, bras with clear straps or stick on bras, racer back bras, halter top bras, 3 way bras, 4 way bras, thongs, panty girdles, all in one girdles, waist cinchers, panty girdle thongs, corsets, and yes, FULL SLIPS AND HALF SLIPS! You’d be amazed at what a big difference a slip can make in your clingy dresses – invest in one! The point is to create as smooth a line as you can, and that also means no panty lines EVER! If you need to “go commando” to achieve that (hope you know what “going commando” means), do it. AND make sure you have some lingerie that is just for his admiring eyes. (That is coming up too.)


Now not every woman’s sexy is about revealing parts of her anatomy. Some women do their sexy more by suggestion than by uncovering themselves. (More on this later.) But if your sexy involves you showing some skin, here is my philosophy — you pick the one part of the body that is going to be displayed for the night, put it out there, make it look as good as you can, and pretty much hide everything else you got. If you’re showing off your legs, shave or wax them (just my personal preference, if you do hairy that’s on you), moisturize them completely from ankle to upper thigh, and then cover up your ass, your breasts, and pretty much everything else. If you’re doing low cut in front, get the well fitted sexy good looking bra and put the “girls” out there (properly moisturized and maybe with a hit of body glitter if you’re feeling special), and cover everything else.. If you’re doing extremely tight (more on the power of the sexy silhouette further down also), don’t do extremely short or extremely low cut at the same time. If you’re doing a low back, keep your front high, and don’t go too short on the leg. Generally speaking if you’re exposing a lot of more than one body part at a time, you tend to start treading into the “trashy” or “trampy” territory. For example ladies, visualize these looks: very short AND very low cut in front, very tight AND very short, very low backed AND very low cut in front. You probably thought you were looking at a hooker. Now if you just like to walk on the wild size you can mix extreme and moderate looks – short and a little low cut, tight and a bit short, etc. But I do recommend staying away from the total hooker look UNLESS you have a male escort with you who is just as comfortable with your sexy as you are. (More on this later as well.)


This should be self explanatory, but just to make sure I didn’t miss is – never travel out and about without ensuring you smell wonderful. Whether its perfumes, body oils, soaps, lotions or whatever, smell good. Even if you’re not one to do scents, make sure you smell fresh and clean if nothing else.


The biggest problem women encounter when they’re out and about with their sexy on display is that they attract a lot of attention from men they aren’t interested in. I am not just talking about men staring, I am talking about men approaching you that you have absolutely no interest in. Men that really should know better than to try you, men that have clearly miscalculated their attractiveness. But if you are arrogant, you can cut down on a lot of that.

When you go out, you have to put out just the right amount of arrogance. You don’t want to come off as totally unapproachable, but you do want the men that do approach you to do so with the proper amount of respect and deference. You want to weed out the losers, those not worthy of conversing with you, etc. Men have a tendency to go after what they think they are capable of getting, what will be easiest for them to get, what they think they have the capacity to get. I call it “low hanging fruit syndrome”. Men pick the fruit from the trees that is easiest to get to, especially when their hungry. You don’t want to be that low hanging fruit.

You want to be the fruit in the middle of the tree – fruit that men have to work a little bit to get to. You want to be the type of woman that a man has to think about before he approaches. And you want men that are of decent quality, and those men pretty much always think about what they’re going to say before they approach women. You don’t want the dude who applies the super-random “hey shawty” to every woman he sees. You want a man with some discernment, some thoughtfulness. And you’re more likely to get that dude if you come off as just a tad bit arrogant.

Now will this get you called the b word by groups of immature, insecure men? Of course. Will the immature, insecure women roll their eyes as you walk by, sucking their teeth and saying under their breath “she think she cute”? Of course. That’s how you know you’re doing it right!

How do you project the right amount of conceit? Your head is held very high. Shoulders back. You look men directly in their eyes, with an unwavering glaze, but not so long that they might think you are interested. You make sure you hold your conversations in low tones – you are never the woman laughing wayyyy too loud or being wayyyy too obnoxious. You smile pleasantly, but not too much. You present yourself as just a bit distant, as if you are there but not there. Only the men who think they can crack that veneer will approach. And you want confident men, you don’t want to be hit on by a bunch of losers all night.

Better to have one quality man talk to you than 40 jerks.

So fall back a bit, and wait for them to come to you.


TOMORROW’S BLOG: I’ll be talking about my misadventures in churches as a single woman, from the insanity of “single women’s ministry” to the “fellowship love” that takes place after services. I’ll also be adding my two cents to the article “The Black Church: How Black Churches Keep African-American Women Single and Lonely” by Deborrah Cooper.

Looking for a brotha with a conscious d**k (Don’t be scared, just keep reading…)

So today I thought I’d have a little fun…

Those who know me best know what a sarcastic person I am. I roll my sarcasm into layers of dry wit, deep fry it in hot oil and it comes out hard and crunchy, though the goodness inside usually l can’t be enjoyed anymore. While I’m always going to be a bit sarcastic, I am recognizing that when I fry my sarcasm too hard, people don’t enjoy eating it. So I am attempting to not fry it as hard as I usually do, so I can maintain some tenderness and flavor under the crust. I want people to enjoy the taste of what’s inside as much as they like the crunchy outside.

I have spent a lot of time in my area’s spoken word community, both as a reporter covering the scene and as a performer. I am by no means a famous poet, but more than a few people know who I am, even if they aren’t exactly clear on what I do. The spoken word community very naturally spills over into other underground performance art forms and creative endeavors in general, and it creates this larger patchwork conglomerate of poets, musicians, vocalists, actors, comedians, writers, rappers, visual artists, fashion stylists, photographers etc. It ends up being a large band of “creatives” as I call them, trying to find ways to do their creative things and, in some cases, earn a living at them.

Now I am a huge fan of old school hip hop. One thing I truly miss is the “storyteller” rappers. I think I relate to them most because I am a storyteller also. Hip hop artists in these days and times don’t tell stories, they run down lists of things they allegedly own or have done/can do. The two that did it the best to my mind were Slick Rick the Ruler (of course), and The Notorious B.I.G. (a less obvious choice perhaps, but if you really get into his lyrics you find he was a consummate storyteller).  One day I was listening to these two, and I got to thinking about their storytelling lyrics and about the artistic community and the things I see in it. As a result, I wrote the piece below. If you aren’t familiar with this community, you may not “get it”. But I think the idea it presents is universal, and at the end of the day the moral of the rhyme is “don’t judge a book by its cover”.

So, without any further ado, I present – “A Conscious D**k”


Lemme tell you a story

bout a friend of mine

who was always havin’ problems

keeping her men in line.

Always picking brothers

who were straight up losers.

Corner boys, hustlers,

and drug abusers.

I never understood
why she would pick these men.

Ending up with drama

time and time again.

One day she said,

“I’m gonna try

a brand new trick.

I’m gonna find a brotha

with a conscious d**k.”

She said…

“A conscious d**k.

A conscious d**k.

Gonna find a brotha

with a conscious d**k.

Tired of these brothas

actin’ wild and slick.

Just let me find a brotha

with a conscious d**k.”

Now at first I laughed,

I didn’t understand.

‘Til she explained to me

about this kind of man.

This dude hates Gucci Mane,

and he hates Lil’ Wayne.

He hates all rappers with

‘Li’l’ in their name.

He doesn’t like Beyonce.

Hates Keri Hilson too.

Only listens to Jill Scott

and Erykah Badu.

With his locs hanging low

and voice deep and sincere,

he could tell her all the things

that she just longed to hear.

She wants..

a conscious d**k.

A conscious d**k.

She’s gonna find a brotha

with a conscious d**k.

Tired of these brothas

actin’ wild and slick.

Just let her find a brotha

with a conscious d**k.

He’d say she was his Queen.

He smelled like sandalwood.

He smelled like reefer too,

but it was still all good.

“It’s from our Mother Earth,

and grows so naturally.

So why not partake of it?

It’s here for you and me.”

He said “I don’t pollute my body

with that old dirty swine.

And if you’re down for revolution

then you’re a friend of mine.”

Said he wrote poems sometimes,

and took her to open mic.

He read a piece called “I met my queen”.

He got that a** that night.

A conscious d**k.

A conscious d**k.

She thought she found a brotha

With a conscious d**k.

She said “F**k ALL these dudes

who act all wild and slick.”

Because she has found a brotha

with a conscious d**k

My girl knew she’d finally found

her conscious king.

And it was ride or die, for him

she’d was down for anything!

So she fried his turkey bacon

and washed his underwear.

And for a little while she really

didn’t even care

that though he was always “grinding”

he never seemed to be at work,

And conscious man dropped out of college

cuz the teachers all were jerks.

Conscious man wouldn’t do what

“corporate America” told him to,

But he stayed playing his Xbox and

his Playstation 2.

Conscious man tried selling weed

but smoked more than he sold,

and soon even the conscious d**k

got weak, wack, and really old

A conscious d**k.

A conscious d**k.

She thought she found a brotha

With a conscious d**k.

She said “F**k ALL these dudes

who act all wild and slick.”

Now she thinks she found a brotha

with a conscious d**k

Cuz conscious brothas could just be

runnin’ conscious games

And no matter who the brotha is

human nature is the same

A thug is more than how he dresses

and how he speaks,

And a conscious brother is more than

what he drinks and eats.

A man is not just what you see

like hair or clothes or skin

If a man is a good man

it’ll come from deep within.

She asked me

“should I look for men

who are wearing shirts and ties?”

I said

“why don’t you stop looking

on the outside

and look into his eyes?”

A conscious d**k.

A conscious d**k.

So this end my story

‘bout the conscious d**k.

Any type of brotha might

be wild and slick.

So don’t be fooled by the myth

we call the conscious d**k.