I was sitting with a couple of smart women that I respect when the subject of dating came up, as it tends to do. “I read The Rules, and it changed my life,” one friend told me, in complete earnestness. “I swear by The Rules. They really work.”
I was taken aback, and for good reason. I’m a generation behind The Rules’ target demo. Twenty years ago, when this book was first published, I was in middle school, when “dating” meant writing about someone in your dream journal and holding hands. As my dating life developed, any mention of The Rules felt laughable, like an ancient relic from a never-seen “Sex And The City” episode, something the girls would discuss over cosmos at Buddakan.
“Aren’t they old-fashioned and sexist, and you know, stupid?” I asked. My other friend interjected. “Seriously, they’re great,” she said. “Trust me.” Keep reading »
It went as perfectly perfect as a breakup could go, I suppose.
Only a few days after my last Dater X post, when I told you all about my hopes of moving things forward with Andrew, he came over to my place to hang out and, without warning, dropped a bomb on me. As usual, we made small talk for a while, chatting about our weekend plans and jobs, and worked our way into my bedroom. Mid-makeout session, I reached down to unzip his jeans, when his hand grabbed mine and pushed it to the side— a suspicious move for not having seen each other in a week. He sat upright, looked me in the eye and said, “Before we do this, there are some things on my mind that I think we should talk about.”
In that moment, I was sure he was going to tell me he wanted us to be exclusive, and ask me if I felt the same way. Keep reading »
Dear Ernest Baker,
In your recent personal essay on Gawker titled “The Reality of Dating White Women When You Are Black,” you stated unequivocally that you are not a “sell out” because you are a Black man who chooses to seriously date only White women. As a 24-year-old Black woman with very similar life circumstances, I can assure you that after reading your piece — although you may not believe that you are a “sell-out” or that you are riddled by “self hate” —the man who wrote that piece is both. Keep reading »
The day I realized that Kyle and I weren’t going to get married was the day he told me how he’d always dreamed of honeymooning at Disneyland Paris.
My family was into nature. Most of our vacations were spent hiking through national parks. But Kyle’s family went to the same place every single year: Disney World. They stayed at the same hotel, ate at the same restaurants, and rode the same rides. These people were okay with paying a lot of money to be an audience year in and year out. I mean a lot of money: tickets, fast passes, souvenirs, overpriced food, hotel rooms. When they came back from Disney, all they could talk about was when they were going to go again. Did I mention the youngest member of their family was 25? Keep reading »
For the first time in a while, I feel like I’m entering into a relationship at a healthy, comfortable pace. Things with Andrew are exactly where they should be: we’re becoming more open with each other emotionally and physically, we’ve met each other’s friends (and I’ve even met some of his family members), we continue to learn more about each other every day, and, to put it simply, we’re both happy. Though our almost-two-month courtship hasn’t yet been defined and “the talk” still remains to be had, I’m trying to hold off on having that conversation until I’m 100 percent sure that a relationship with Andrew is what I want. I’ve been stuck in Exclusivity Limbo before and usually take the proactive approach to finding out where things stand by this point in the game, but I’m glad I haven’t done that yet. When a coworker of mine asked me last week if I’m ready to be exclusive with Andrew, I said yes without hesitation, and meant it. I’m happy with him and excited about where things are headed, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? Since then, though, a friend’s efforts to hook me up with someone else have given me a case of the “what ifs,” and it’s got me questioning my situation with Andrew. Keep reading »