Real Ones


Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

 -Anais Nin

In your 20’s you come to terms with who you are every day. Some  ignore it and others deal with the grunt of it head on. It’s a fragile phase because you’re met with all facets of your self, the good, bad and ugly. In that haywire time of growing up and figuring life out, your support system could make or break you. I use to despise when older folks would school me with the “you are the company you keep” line. It was a phrase that I heard time after time, clearly they were filling me in on something I had to see myself.

I ran with a lot of girls, childhood friends, new friends, industry friends. I epitomized  #squadgoals before it was a hashtag. I loved having friends, I had no understanding of deciphering what type of friend they should be. I held every acquaintance dear to my heart, to my surprise it wasn’t always reciprocated. I did theeee most and slowly realized that was a big mistake.

I was friends with them ALL, the manipulators, the “I have an agenda only” friend, the “I want you to be great but not better than me” friend, the list goes on. I’m chuckling as to how shocked and heartbroken I became in realizing this (so green lol). Every year a friendhip faded out,  less friends meant the weight in my life got lighter.

When the smoke cleared, my #realones remained. No judgements, motives are false pretense. I can have real ugly cries about life shit and not feel like I have to watch my back because someone seen me have a vulnerable moment. My single adventures don’t get the judgmental side-eye, my asshole theories and jokes are respected LOL and my shortcomings aren’t strategically chopped and screwed for laughs. It’s rare to find friendships where everyone is cut from the same cloth, I’m blessed beyond measures:)

Our very candid conversations, struggles, aspirations, hurts, joys and unwavering love has helped heal some of my greatest emotional wounds. Our humor, oh our humor can cut like a knife…”misfits” type of humor has carried me in good spirits for years.The relationships with my core friends have allowed me to live a life where i’m in tuned with reality. I am always challenged and forced to shed my illusions. It’s a big part of why I chose to do this.

Writing about my dating escapades might be a lot to take in for some readers but living to find purpose and truth is all that I know-the truth in all it’s complex glory…So many girls don’t have that outlet in real life, i’ve seen some of the most bizarre facades live out between a lot of “friendships.”

So what if you been broke, scared, confused and embarassed. I had awful ends to dating, bad days or confused points in my life, shit I’m still confused. Life’s has its trials, just remember your on the road to something…discovering more and more of who you are.

There’s no filter in real life, so I write hoping to become a friend in your head, a resource to sigh relief so that you don’t feel insecure about the experiences that aren’t said out loud..



There’s something about car rides with guys…


A date, a destination or just a ride to nowhere always leaves a mark. Maybe it’s the prince charming complex we all have embedded within us that throws us in this fancy, “….your chariot awaits for you” transfers in real life as “Hey, I’m outside….” Reality has such charm right?!

Car rides to hopefully remember, greets you with night skies, city lights, sun beaming or rain streaming down the window. Accompanied with catalogs of good/bad/strange or corny music, the serenity or awkwardness of the ride somehow reveals something more about yourself and him. Back and forth gazes in between focusing on the road ahead can give a flutter. When good vibes are aligned the car is the perfect setting for clutch convos about life and the details often left for you or him to read between the lines…there seems to always be this reflective nuance that either makes you like him more or less.

His perspectives, jokes or the rap/sing alongs can be intrinsically satisfying or painfully annoying all while watching him man the wheel. This bubble that you guys are confined in for minutes or hours can literally take you under in a good, bad or an uncomfortable way. Any instance of ease or uneasiness is immediately felt because chemistry or no chem can’t hide itself in a car…

All Is Fair in Like & Lurk…

Brooklyn summer nights are inevitable… I was in Kelly Rowland mode, bronzed dewey make-up, bone straight bangs and a tank dress with boob action that introduced itself to by passers. Normally, I’m a little demure but the joys of a summer night called for it. My best friend and I decided to dine at Borough in Bed-stuy, we took the outside seats  and our viewing of our surroundings commenced. Biker boys posted up, with loud music…felt a little like old brooklyn. High off summer life, we politicked about our norms-boys of course, clothes, more money and art. In the midst of our conversation I was taken a back by a quick walker crossing the street in my peripheral.

I saw a beard and fresh kicks…The orange tint from the street light lit up the block, a perfect backdrop for whomever this was. It felt like a scene out of a movie, all this moment needed was the intro of “Blue Train.” I’m chuckling now at how I dramatically view everything through a hype/spike lens. As he got closer, his brown skin glistened under the street light and my best friend nudged me to get up and talk to him. She’d already peeped that he was SO my type but all I could muster was a stare and a crackled hi with a smile.

He was catching up to a friend that was walking ahead and turned to walk backwards just so he could get a better glance of me. He squinted, smiled and waved hello back. He was beautiful, his beard was jet black and was lined up with imaculate detail. I’d already nicknamed him Moses.

My best friend nudged me to get up and go talk to him and I shunned it off with the  nah girl shrug trying to shield my nervousness. “Stop being soft P,”she knew me too well, I had that “what if he plays me expression” (see prior post). I hated being underestimated and I knew I would moreso hate to live with the “what if that night I… “feeling. I walked over and I managed to successfully make small talk  which led him to walk over to our table. After our modest exchange and trade of numbers, I was curious to know what was gonna come of this!

The text portion of the getting to know you phase can be hit or miss. There’s a certain flow that has to happen, the time frame of the responses, the jokes, the right emojis, proper grammar. I consider it a crucial part in building up the attraction, unless your more a phone/in person type.

We talked and text, this was different. We had a lot in common especially the fact that we had similar experiences working in fashion but as soon as that was on the surface, he asked to called me. He asked me questions like who I knew, how I long I worked in fashion and if I knew some of his contacts, but I was so into getting to know him I didn’t find it strange. On an intellectual level I craved more. Our connection was steady but something was off. We talked about relationships, he told me he was single and never mentioned if he had kids or not….I never think that’s a question to ask after you ask someone, “so tell me a little about yourself?” I would assume that somehow that was a big enouhh deal to include in the description, am I wrong?

So July 4th comes around and he invites me to a bbq that he’s hosting so I make plans to head to his bbq with my homegirl but abruptly I get this call, “hey the bbq got shut down but I’ll let you know where we can still meet.” Huh?, where we can still meet? Guys have this tendency to forget that some women are different, my FBI vibes go into overdrive when communication gets fuzzy. I chilled though, the naive/chicken head side of me had future hopes of playing in his beard so I didn’t throw a hissy fit, it was too early for that…despite my suspicions. We kept in communication as I made other plans to spend the 4th and talked about rescheduling the next day. His stories kept shifting and getting stranger, at one point he was excited to see me, then he was en route to dropping his aunt to Harlem. Then he proceeded to tell me that he was locked up for  some years and had a suspended license so he wasn’t suppose to be driving. Minute by minute this was becoming a shit show and my happily beard man dreams were going down the drain! BUT I still gave him the benefit of the doubt because I’m not someone who turns my nose up at flaws, vices and setbacks. I might give a side eye but I’m understanding enough to connect that life has it’s hangups. Still something wasn’t right!

After our a call my FBI vibes kept pinching at me, I gave in after trying to convince myself that, “If the universe wanted me to find something out, it will show me…” but I decided to meet half way with the universe… I began to lurk. Background checks are essential these days, I’m just honest enough to admit. It surprises me with how much can be revealed. I figured I tackle Instagram first. I searched his company name and seen that they had posted a photo of him (Jackpot!) When I clicked on his @ name, mmmmm oh my god he lied! He shared a private page with his wife, not girlfriend but “wife.” Of course it was private but the profile picture  and bio was a dead give away  and I chuckled to myself wow another one bites the dust

So I waited for him to slowly reveal himself but the lies to create this single guy facade kept building. I felt like this was probably something he had gotten away with in the past and I couldn’t let him continue feeling like he got one over on yet another a girl.

The next day we’d carry on with our normal flow of texts and I asked him “are you on Instagram?” very casually. He went on that he didn’t have any social media accounts because he was too much on his grind. Rigggght, focused on lying! So I couldn’t resist blowing him up! I sent him a screen grab of the Instagram page and his only reply was “Damn.” HA…. I never heard from him again….He probably changed all his contact info in fear I’d reach out to his wife but i’m not vindictive and wanted no parts in being the bearer of bad news…

Later on that evening I decided to go to Facebook to see if he had any further secrets, I was curious even though I had no intention of ever speaking to him again. His name immediately popped up in my search results without me even typing his last name. Facebook is  too on point for my comfort it’s kind of scary! Based on his timeline and pictures, he had two kids and one seemed to be months old. He had happy family pics…I chuckled at how adamant he was about building with me when he had a whole family?!

Thank God for a positive outlook on fucked up situations because I could have immediately started an angry black woman shelf of all the fucked up things guys do…but i’m not that type of soul. It’s very easy to see how one can get there though, especially if it happens constant.To date someone with the intention of having a full cake and (wife and kids?!) and eating it too was plain old selfish.

I pray to never be bitter EVER but situations like this add to becoming a little jaded. An instance like this totally throws off your whole psyche of relationships. Had I not lurked I could have easily went on falling more and more for this guy to later find out I was a “side chick.”

The reality is that you don’t know everything about anyone you date. All you can do is take your time and hope to God he gives you the insight and rationale not to go crazy! It happens to the best of us but don’t let it deter you from living more!

For Starters…


The initial act of meeting a guy used to be a petrifying ordeal for me. I’d watch friends bag or get bagged by guys in both shock and adoration! Flirting, clever liners, and a chess game of giving the eyes and smiles across the room, but for me it was easier to watch than to attempt or be seen. As awesome as it was to know that I ran with a fearless breed of friends, I wanted to be inspired but it felt out of character for me to do it, the whole idea was nerve racking. With the lies of Disney fairytales in my subconscious, I became a glutton for believing that my NY prince would introduce himself to me in a very Bonnie & Shyne type of way, sans the feds running up on us (HA). Kick rocks to my dramatic imagination…after living vicariously through my friends and their dating conquests, I soon realized if I wanted to add some numbers in my phone, I’d have to suck it up and be a big girl!

Just like Meek said “scared money, don’t make no money,” the scared part always resonates with me because in ALL aspects of life being scared keeps you stagnant. Having a dry ass phone was becoming a silent but yet agonizing reminder that I was not gettin my life…I was also stubborn, I felt like it was a guy’s role to do the initiating. Now, some would agree that this should be the ONLY way, but there really isn’t a right way…either or works. Plus I can’t count how many times guys have told me a female’s approach was a huge turn-on.

I still had my doubts though, but I knew I had to be strategic and develop a game plan. I knew I couldn’t be too eager or too chill, a medium was always safe. I’d still whine in worry, “What if I just start talking to him and he tries to play me? My ego would be on the line!” Even though rejection is something that we all experience in some aspect of our life, whether it’s work, opportunities or relationships, we all have to feel it sometimes…But pride is a hell of a weight on your conscious. I had enough non-risk taking moments under my belt and I no longer wanted to jeopardize the universe’s many openings to enjoy or learn a thing or two in my twenty something life. Plus what’s for you is for you and what isn’t just isn’t! Getting a grasp on life and realizing that this isn’t the rehearsal was and still is a constant gut kick to taking a confident approach to any and everything.

Then there’s those things you just can’t be taught like understanding what type of energy your aesthetic puts forth in the world.. Fortunately, it can’t be taught, innately we should all know or get to know our vibe and what draws people in. What you eat, what you watch, what you read, what music you listen to, how you dress, what you find funny, the company you keep, your aspirations, your studies, experiences (highs and lows), morals, vices and even your scent…shape your story. Added with your physical attributes, being pretty is powerful once it’s added with personality, they go hand in hand.

Without the noise of people in your ear, there’s no one way to go about dating, wanting a boyfriend or a cuddy buddy but to be open…but you have to try! Don’t just say you want it, channel it and do nothing about it. Go out with the intention of meeting a guy, sometimes I wonder why girls go out?

“Girls night”shouldn’t be lets go out and drink and spend the whole night taking pictures and scrolling through your feed. You could like pictures in the cab on the way home! Look around the room, get away from the pack, see who’s posted up.

Sit at the bar and be sociable, actually go to the things you are invited to even if your tired. I’ve met guys and had more fun at the things I didn’t want to go to (after a long  work week its hard to fight the not feeling it feel though lol).

Be a fun girl, that shit is appealing and says you have a pulse. The “resting bitch face” can be a bit intense sometimes, although it can work with a good red lip but not ALL the time.

Try it out, see what you like and make your move or play your position and he’ll make his way. A smile or my personal favorite, “hey” with a head tilt and smile.

Live your life so you can have some amazing stories to tell your kids and grandkids about the adventures of being a fun YOUNG you!

I’m Shallow….#shrugs

*Let me start off by saying this isn’t a male bashing blog, because I know I have male readers…there are NO attempts to get back at anyone. I’m just revealing my experiences good and bad. This isn’t a “GIRL lemme tell you why i’m so angry” outlet either…although I might have a few rants here and there, these stories and thoughts are simply just a compilation of my truths.

I didn’t date a really good guy  because he had child bearing hips… I know, “Why oh why?!

A month prior to being startled by the unexpected, we were introduced to each other by a mutual friend. Our first meet was at a coffee shop in the village that lasted for hours. After a dry phase of no action, conversation with a male species was everything! Visually, I was drawn in… To tell you guys this story and of course to protect his identity I’m gonna call him Zulu. Zulu had a distinct aura, everything movement was done with ease. He embodied a rather regal poise that trumped the mannerisms of every guy that I ever dated. The way Zulu lifted his cup, motioned his chin to nod and squinted his eyes when he seemed interested in my words made me feel giggly and girly! Fortunately, for the first time this feeling was definitely different. Up until that point all I had an affinity for were Brooklyn boys who could bear the reputation of being a bit brash and self-centered. Zulu wore trench coats, blazers, even wore a handkerchief in his pocket sleeve. He seemed like a  J. Crew type, this was different, I told myself “be open P.” Having had a weakness for dudes who were timbs and jordans, I wasn’t use to a guy like this. He even had a very stoic way of sitting with crossed legs. At the time I thought it was sexy and very Alpha male but little did I know, it was probably the most comfortable way for him to disguise things…

Anyway, we were building. We talked about our dreams, future investments, fears, families and music. We dissected Coldplay and Frank Ocean lyrics, eventually laughing at the fact we might be so wrong about what we think the songs really mean. He intreoduced me to ways of cooking with a variety of spices, traditional symbolisms, a deeper look into Greek mythology …ahh the list went on. Sidebar, I always look forward to learning from the dudes I’m interested in, as we all should. There’s something about the exchange of two people bringing forth the things they’ve learned or collected as individual spirits that makes the prospects of dating or becoming a duo so magnetic!

After our meet, me and Zulu would only talk on the phone due to our schedules. We’d talk for hours every single day and skype, skype flashes and all (hehehe). Finally we decided to meet in LES for crepes. Of course I was running late, wearing heels makes me move a little slower because 1. I’m not trying to fall and 2. I didn’t map out that when you’re  wearing heels and taking the train, walking cute in heels + a shitty train schedule results in arriving way past the scheduled time (try to keep that in mind!). So I finally reach to the spot and he’s sitting on the bench in front already waiting for me. I decide to be extremely charming to dismiss the fact that I was 20 minutes late. He appeared cool, his “Wall Street Journal” occupied his time I guess. I thought to myself, Wall Street Journal huh? Prior talks of investments? Who is this guy? His J.crew-esque nature was growing on me. I’ll admit I did think in some instances his whole GQ thing was forced and pretentious but I was beginning to think this whole appeal could really be who he was.

After we made our decision on what crepes we wanted, we waited for them until the waitress called us over to get them. He smiled and gestured me to remain seating and stood to walk over to the counter. Abruptly my eyes could not believe what I was seeing. These grand-mama hips were protruding from his sides. What?!  How could I miss this?!! I mean we had exchanged pictures, seen each other once but HIPS. Trying hard not to seem like there was a issue, I smiled and conversed as if nothing was wrong. I tried to sneak looks every now and then to try to see if my eyes kept playing tricks on me but they were still there. As we talked more and more my tone with him started to change, I felt me going into homeboy mode. I started talking to him as a friend and not someone I was interested in. It became obvious to him on our walk from the crepe shop. I felt so bad but it was naturally happening, my like and curiosity turned into me being confused and awkward. Soon after our connection faded,we never met up again. On paper he was perfect but my truth was staring me in the face, I was shallow. I couldn’t get past the hips, guess the hips really don’t lie (bad joke…#shallowshrugs).

Fast forward to today he’s still handsome, VERY successful and in love. Most people would think I was a fool to have not tried to at least overlook that, maybe, but i’m too much of an asshole. I couldn’t visualize me and him having an intimate moment and seeing those hips. I also couldn’t get past the thought of introducing him to my friends and family and seeing their eyes pierce to his hips. Ugh that would be too much stress! #shallowshrugs

I’m not perfect inside and out and I really don’t pretend to be. I’m understanding that everyone has a preference but my gut always lets me know what works for me and what doesn’t. I’m a work in progress, sue me!

Have you ever had a #shallowshrugs moment? I want to know…No judgements here!

She writes…


Fuck it, that’s been my mantra lately….

Two years ago I started this blog as an expośe into what it’s like dating when in your 20’s and never put it out there. I thought to myself, “Shit, this is waaaaay too personal, why would anybody want to read about my highs and lows of being a doting single and some times not so single Brooklyn girl in New York?” For 1. I knew my adventures would either boost the ego’s or offend my past and present suitors and 2. I didn’t want to be just another blogger girl with way too many aspects of my life on the radar. I’ve seen some instances of the blogging world get a bit messy and complacent. It’s so easy to get caught up without a grasp of real life and I had no intention to be another face. Having had my little taste of the scene in the past, I realized quickly that I was a little to ballsy for the cliques. I had my solid squad of day one friends and wasn’t about to falter under the pressure…but I still felt this persistent obligation gnawing at me to write again. Writing has ALWAYS been my very first love. I consider myself a student of  words, distinctly moved by the illustrious wordplay of FoxyBaldwin, Plath, Hov and Big L, just to name a few. My penchant to tell stories is very much a part of my being. Most importantly though, in this new year of my life I feel motivated to serve as a novice and shed some comfort to the twenty something modern misfits out here just trying to figure it out.

I’ve declared myself a hopeless romantic/partial asshole, I believe that real love is attainable but I’m not into the  fluff. The other night my Lyft driver told me “you gotta have some muscle in love,” that’s the realest shit I’ve heard  in a minute. I’m too realistic and too cool to comment #goals under a celebrity couple’s pic but yet hopeful and maybe a little green in believing that we can all experience cloud 9 love. With all great things comes struggle, as I’m starting to realize the road to getting there or even staying there isn’t easy. No one tells you that part though, especially in these times. Scrolling through your gram and coming across your friends and their “bae” pics could have you experiencing some major fuck my love life pains, ugh! Have less worries about all that and here’s why…

Here’s the thing, I’ll reiterate time after time that life is hard because it is. I’m NOT a dating expert, I’m just winging the process and you probably are too. So as I take the risks in pursuit of whatever the universe has designed for me in the love, like or lust department, I’ll share what I learn in hopes that it’ll inspire you. Check in with me on all the tips, hits, misses, wins and fumbles as a guide and enjoy a few good laughs in between. So, L’chaim to phase 1 of us attempting to figuring out we could do to snatch up what we want out of this love thang:)

P.S. Happy Birthday to Me!