Love Bite, Slap and Cut.

I wanted to give you guys a welcome back kind of write-up. I know, I know its been forever that I posted… Forgive me (or kill yourself…Hahaha! ) okay it’s a bit creepy and Unlike me…and I intend to start putting A Thousand Love Mishaps back on.
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Love Bite

I couldn’t move. It was dark. It smelt… Smelt like … a stale room. The air was thick, it was moist. I had to struggle to breath. No, I am not asthmatic! I was gasping! Barely breathing but I could still breathe. As I took my first deep breath, and the air left my nostrils, a racking throb sparked from inside my head. I reached for my head, my hand stopped mid way, held still by something. I tried again. It was still held in place. I struggled and fought, then I realised my hands and legs were tied , fastened to a bed. It had to be, it wasn’t a hard surface, I was in a lying position and my limbs were spread away from my body and fastened by ropes.
I couldn’t remember how I got there. How?… I couldn’t … Tears began to flow from my eyes as I fought madly to break free from the ropes used to fasten me to the bed. I let out a cry. Short. Desperate. Hopeless. Then the sobs escaped me and I was crying out audibly. “ I see you are finally awake”. The voice startled me. My eyes, I couldn’t see. I could hear footsteps approaching, slowly but confidently. The consistency indicated someone who was at ease, comfortable.
“You see, I got tired of watching you sleep, as beautiful as it is” the voice seemed familiar, it had to be… “So I went out for a drink. Hope you don’ t mind, my lover.” The way he said the word “Lover” reminded me, like a dam of memories unleashed. Yes, Steven. It was Steven! I called his name “Steve!” I said in almost a whisper “What’s going on?”
“Steven?” the voice said, laced with mockery and amusement “Ohhh. Steven. That’s what I called myself. True.” There was a pause, then a sudden explosion of laughter came from him. “You fool!” he bellowed. “ My name isn’t Steven! My name is… is…” He laughs, as if to mock himself for forgetting his own name. “ well, Steven. Johnson. Marcus. Yemi. Hakeem. Chinedu. Lawal. Sizwe. What have I not called myself” he laughs out loud again “ doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here and I will show you everlasting love. Love for a life time. The last love.” He moves close to my left ear “The love of the last breath” he whispers. A shiver so intense runs down my spine. I had to do something. What could I do but beg. I started to cry profusely. “Please, I beg you in the name of God. I beg you. I beg you. Please” I kept pleading but there was no response from him. Then after what seemed like thirty minutes, I kept quiet,. He was gone. Or was he? I shivered to think he was watching me cry without saying a word. I started to sob quietly.
Wham!!! His entire weight is upon me. He was laying on me and feeling on my body. Sniffing my neck like a wild demonic beast. “Ohhh… that perfume. You smell so special!” He exclaimed. I struggled, screamed, begged. But I was too tightly fastened to the bed. “Yes! Yes! Struggle. It turns me on!” Then I felt a sharp pain on my neck. He bit me! Then he bit me again as he kissed me all over. I was crying like a child now. Helpless. After biting me and kissing me so hard that I could tell that I was bleeding on my ear lobe and my neck, he settled on top of me and ran his hands across my breast and stomach, up and down, slowly but terribly. I felt his breath on my ear, he whispered “Tell me I’m the best lover…” I was quiet “ Please tell me I’m the best lover you’ve ever had” I was still quite. He sounded like he was going to cry “Tell me… Tell me… Say it… Say it” he whispered. He sounded like he was sobbing. “TELL ME!!!” he screamed into my ears startling me. “NO!!!” I screamed back. More out of sheer terror and anger than courage. He sounded stunned “What?!” He hissed. He grabbed my jaw as if he was aimed for my neck but couldn’t get to it. “Say it!” He commanded. “Nooooooo!!!” I shouted. A sharp pain shot across my face as he slapped me hard. “You bitch!” He slapped me again. And again. And again “You better do as I say. If not your inevitable death will be more painful than it needs to be!” I was still struggling when a blow hit me left eye. Weak. Tired . But not ready to die, I cried some more.
“Good girl.” He said as he began to slip my clothes off my body. “You see when I sent you a friend request and you accepted immediately. Sending me nude pictures within a few days. I was intrigued. I mean, I do this for a living, it wasn’t a big deal for me to send you my nude pictures since I have a great body to show for it. And like the other whores, you fell for it and reciprocated. The overpowering need to reciprocate favours.” He chuckles “ Its so simple.” He continues “ but the likes of you, my dear… you take cheap to whole different level” . My chest is bear now, it is hot and tepid but I shiver profusely as I can feel myself being stripped by this mad man. He started to play with me, moaning to himself amidst his speech “You are so… delicious.”
Shivering, exhausted, and shedding tears uncontrollably. I knew I was going to die, but not without a fight. I didn’t think, I just wanted to act. He gets off me.”Now for the grand finale” he says as he picks something from a table “let me take you to heaven” he gets back on top of me. He was naked this time around. “You are the best lover” I said. He paused. I was getting to him.”You are the best lover I have ever known” He sighs, his excitement obvious in the ragged breathes he was taking. “Your touch drives me insane. Your bite and kiss turn me the f*ck on!” I cooed with defiance he was amused as he got on top of me, he wanted to enter me. “I have one request” I said, using my most persuasive and sexually charged voice, or so I thought, but it worked. “Yes my love” he says and kisses my lips deeply and harshly like he wanted to tear my mouth inward. “ I want to look into your eyes as we make sweet love”. He was silent. “Please… My love” He was silent. I felt him relax. Hesitate. The darkness lifted from my eyes. It was a dark room, but within a few seconds, I saw his face. I saw him, sweating, eyes wide with excitement and something I couldn’t explain, something evil. I managed a smile, mustering everything I called strength to keep my eyes locked on his. As he put himself in me and closed his eyes to take in the ecstasy of what he thought was love making… I moaned , though disgusted and in pain. “Yes!” he exclaimed as he moved back and forth on top of me. I moaned louder, looking around trying to find a possible exit through the darkness. I spotted what looked like a door. A door! I needed something. The knife. I looked around. Close to my hand was the knife that he was holding before the love making began. I moaned louder as i tried to reach the knife. I catch it in between my fingers. I twisted my wrist as i turned the knife towards the rope. The knife was very sharp, obviously, and the rope was old. I was freed on one hand. I didn’t think. I buried the knife in his back! He screams, gets up from me. Stunned. He tries to reach the knife to no avail. He struggles. He is on the ground. Gasping. Writhing . I run towards the door. Turn the knob. Its locked! …No! As I turn around to find the keys, I crash into him. He is smiling now, blood on his teeth, and dripping down the sides on his mouth. I feel a throb, I look down to see the handle of a knife protruding out of my abdomen. I look up and he whispers to me “Best Lover… See you in heaven” He falls to his knees, leaning against me. My visions blurs. I see the room spin as my face hits the ground…
The End.

A Thousand Love Mishaps (9)

Now let me make this clear once and for all…. I am not a bad person. Nope, I am not. I’m just a young kid trying to live. Can I Live? Please. Please my Niggas and Niggresses. Can a brother live?! I didn’t have a point I just always wanted to ask that question to anyone that had time to waste (Hehehehehe). So Mirabel kissed me. I was no longer a lip virgin. Ah! People. You should have seen me walk around the next day… I was like king Kong. I felt like the king of China. I felt like the president of the jungle. Or is the other way round… anyways shaaaaa! I was the Baus!…And I was loving my life. Brought out my last tin of Corned beef and gave it to the boys at the dining table.
“Wetin dey worry dis one” one of my hating class mates asked,- I can’t remember his name- but I didn’t care to share…what kind of man kisses and tells. Well, to be completely honest, I told my bunk mate, then he told his friend, then that one told his girlfriend (Oponu…Ashewo) Then that one told… It doesn’t matter who the hell she told, once a girl know, the whole solar systems knows already. But don’t you worry my dear readers, I didn’t get into too much trouble, Mirabel never found out, or maybe she did and didn’t care.
Forget say Mirabel na the school “whatever they want to call her”. Me and her were down, she makes me sing love songs. WhoooOoooOooooOoo! *that was an ad-lib in case you were wondering. Sooo after school hours, Mirabel asked me to accompany her to the administrative block, a five storey building. She said she forgot her bag there and didn’t want to go back alone.
“What is your bag doing in admin block?” I asked.
“I went there to read during break and left my bag” she answered.
“Oh…okay”
There was an awkward silence after that… We climbed the first flight of stairs. the second, the third, the fourth… we were on the third floor by then.
She paused, walked into one of the old labs and stopped at the window…staring out at Something. then it clicked…I must have done a good job of the last time we kissed she wanted a “take home to Mama”experience. I had to be smooth. I walked over to her and slowly put my hand around her waist. She sounds around sharply.
“Do you think I’m a whore?” She blurted out from nowhere, my brain froze for a few seconds. My hands fell off her waist (Apa ti jabo O Jesu!)
“I- I- I don’t understand…”
“Just answer the question Ade ” She had a serious look on her face.
“I don’t think so… I know people say things but I don’t care”
Her expression softened.
“I Like you for who you are…Kind, friendly, Smart, Sw-”
You guess it. We were kissing. She held me close, her arms around my neck,she grabbed my hand and placed it on her boob.
“Oh shit” I thought to myself “I’m about to loose my virginity in a science lab”
I didn’t really care… No I did care, my brain cared, my body on the other hand, that’s a totally different story.
Badoo… I pushed her softly against the wall, and pressed against her… she moaned. I ran my hand up her thigh as I slowed down the kissing, deepening it at th same time.
I couldn’t control my words…”Gawwd I Love you”. She stopped. She looked me in the eyes, disappointment oozing from her eyes.
She turned from me and started to walk away.
“Hey! Hey!…Mirable.” I called to her “I’m not lying, I mean it!” She paused. Looked at me with teary eyes and said “Don’t ever say those words to me or any girl…. it’s a lie!” Before I could say another word, she was out of the room. I walked behind her as she stumped away mumbling stuff I couldn’t hear to herself.
I tried a second time to talk to her. To get an …Anything.
“Mirabel… Can we-”
“Do you actually think I could love you. Small boy like you”
I felt like I had been slapped… six…teen… thousand times… with a metal glove…by hulk… on steroid.
I stopped on my tracks.
“Better stay away from me… Love… Odeh!” she hissed and walked away.
Crazy person!
The next time I saw her, it was with I.K., he brought his parents’ car and she was in there with him. I just decided to free her… I kuku wanted to study.
Crazy Person…. Mtcheww. This time around I was moving on easily.

Rantings of a Short Blaq Boi: Women In Our World Today.

Women In our world today
Most women, nowadays, want something they cant find….something that isn’t wired into the nature of most men,if not all men. They want something the society doesn’t have, cant have, isn’t wired to have. Like I picked from a movie “Its the ugly truth”.
What am I talking about? I’m talking about women who want to be treated like ladies, they want someone who will care for them, who will protect them, who will open the door for them, pay some of the bills, men who will do their manly duties, which is not bad at all, see where the problem comes in when women want to be treated equally as men, no I’m not saying women should be treated any less than men, I’m saying women want to treat men the way men treat men. Especially in a relationship, be it friendship, romantic or marital stage. Thats just plain childish and twisted if you ask me (Thanks to Hollywood….or maybe its just the western society)Even the Bible makes it clear, the man, more than anything, NEEDS submission, and respect. Love him, but you must be willing to submit and respect, he must know you are submissive and that he is respected even more than he knows he is loved, trust me, its the truth. A woman needs tender loving care, yes the big T.L.C., the man should be tender, the man should be considerate. The man should not do to his woman or female friend, what he wouldnt’ want to happen to his own body, am I right? The man’s duty is to care for, to protect, to nurture, and provide for his own body, which is what the woman also needs. The woman, like I said earlier must R.E.S.P.E.C.T the man, and honour him, and Submit to him in Love. The equation will be most satisfactory if the man is as Loving and considerate to the woman as he would be to his very own self. Don’t make her cook when you obviously see she is tired, tho its her duty as a wife(women, wether U like it or not, its the universal truth, even in the animal kingdom, take your face off Holly Wood and suck it up!) I would like to see a family where the woman comes in and asks the man “Where is my food honey?” Or honey “Whats for dinner?” If you think its african mentality, then you better think again…lets not drift too far. Dont make love to her like she is some piece of meat. Man, dont be a selfish pig! Even dogs and goats put in a little effort., satisfy your woman, even though its her duty to submit to you, even in sex. Being nice and sensitive sometimes doesnt mean you are not in control. In simple conversation, you can be playfull and still be respectful, you dont have to hurt his ego(all men have it, deal with it. You have your periods too,so its kinda equal. If men had a compiled ego issue that just burst out a few days every month, you would get what I mean). Being playful and respectful is something all woman can do, its called simple charm…you can learn it. Women and men are equal, but NOT the same. We both have duties, we both have parts to fulfill, we both have our faults, we both have to support each other, we both need love,we both have our strengths and weaknesses, but these things are not necessarily in the same way. Get it straight ladies and Gentlemen. We are Equal but not the same. Whats good for the goose is good for the gander, very true,but that doesnt make the gander a goose, people, get it straight! Haha! Kai…mean I’m almost losing my appetite. wait… Am I ranting again? Yes? Good. Deal with it!

Don’t they just look so perfect?… *Yinmu*

A Thousand Love Mishaps (8)

So, I and Mirabel went for a walk outside. It was a bit cold. She was wearing a pretty blue suede jacket, and all I had on was a T-shirt, I wasn’t wearing any singlet, I don’t usually wear singlets, so the cold had free access(U go fear suffering). A cold, biting gust of wind blew past us. I shivered and hugged myself without thinking. “Are you cold?” Mirabel asked in the midst of her chattering(which I wasn’t even listening to, its either I got warm or I got kissed! I didn’t know what came over me, probably the hormones-What?! Teenagers have raging hormones, we don’t think straight at times). So she asked if I was cold. “Yeah, just a little. I’ll be fine” I said reassuringly.
“Are you serious?” She was surprised”Its not that cold.” she said smiling, a mocking kind of smile.
“I know, don’t mind me jarey” I managed to say with my chattering teeth. I don die today, I thought to myself. I was already thinking of an escape route.
“Here” she called my attention, handing me her jacket, underneath it she was wearing nothing but her bra-hold it, hold it, hold it…just kidding…she had a nice creamy top on. It was like silk or something like that.
“Naahh” I declined “I’ll be fine.”
“Take it jor!” her voice had the command tone now.
I laughed “Mirabel, I’m good. Thanks.” She moved closer to me and put the jacket over my obviously shaking shoulders, and slowly began to rub my back, while she hugged me. I was startled at first, but with every wave of her warm hands running soothingly over my back, my muscles relaxed. “Better now?” She asked.
Ah! See this geh! I thought to myself, “Better” is an understatement. “Definitely” I said with the most satisfied look on my face.

I let go of my inhibitions just a little. I slowly let my hands trace around her waist. Trying hard not to get too carried away, I was her junior. But it felt oh so good!
“Hope you’re not taking advantage of a lady” Mirabel said. I could feel her smile.
“I wouldn’t think of it” I replied letting my hand fall slowly. But as they fell , I felt one of her hands leave my back and raise my falling hand back to where it was before, then she continued rubbing my back. Oh glory!! I smiled.
Since I was given permission, then I could well be on my way to getting that kiss. I tightened my grip just a little, held her a little closer, balancing one hand on the small of her back and another just above her backside. “Hmmmn” she chuckled softly “You do know how to hold”. I laughed. “I wonder how many girls have been in this embrace? I thought only huge and tall guys would be able to hug a girl and have this effect .” she said jokingly. I believe she was joking.
“Well, if my counting is accurate” I said feigning seriousness “Just one.” I answered.
“Just one? And who might the lucky girl be?” She asked facing me now, smiling.
“Well,” I started “you might know her. She’s quite popular, you see”
“Ohh really”
“Yeah, boys are always drooling over her. I mean, she’s hot.”
“Now, I’m jealous” Mirabel said, feigning seriousness.
“Its not her fault, you know. She’s sweet like that. I call her my angel.”
“Wow”
“But people know her as Mirabel.” I stated with a smile. It clicked that I was talking about her… “Awww” she cooed and hugged me tighter”You’re the sweetest thing! Did you just make that up?” She was laughing now.
“Was it that bad?” I said laughing too.
“No, its so good. So good that I can tell you this is the highlight of my night” she said in a tone so soft that even I had to swallow a lump in my throat.
“Wish I could get the highlight of my month right now” I said.
“What might that be, darling” (she called me darling! Ahhh! Correct! Tinz don dey click!)
“A kiss to turn this frog into a prince” I said, smiling.
“Awwww…come here” and gbam! She gave me a kiss…soft and sweet, and beautiful… The only thing is that it was on my cheek. We both laughed.
“I still feel like a frog” I said, feigning disappointment,( actually, I was disappointed, no be say I dey feign anything! ) “Maybe we should try a real kiss” I suggested, closing my eyes and pouting my lips lightly.
“Ewww” Was what I heard O.”Stop that jor!” She said laughing. I opened my eyes and laughed(Na fake laugh O, the thing pain me!) “How can I be kissing my school son nau?”.
School son again!? I thought to myself. My face fell. What was I thinking, that a high profile babe, a senior in SS2 would be kissing a JS2 junior like me. Three years apart! Haba Ade! Ojukokoro(greed in Yoruba language) is bad mehn. I thought to myself. So Mirabel walked me to my hostel front, even though I insisted on walking her back to her hostel, but she just wouldn’t have it, she was just too …in control! The girl was spoiling my gentleman swagger! I hugged her one final time (consolation), and we said our good nights. I watched her beautiful body sway away into the night (the body was beautiful, to be honest). Though I noticed she was going back to her hostel through the Junior Secondary class area, which was longer than the usual route. Maybe she wanted to just clear her mind and relax, or stroll, the stars were really nice that night, I had thought. I went to bed semi-happy, I mean, I wanted that kiss so bad(What!? Can’t a brother dream? Even Martin Luther had a dream!)

The next day was a Friday, class was not so boring, I met a new chick from the other arm of Js2, she was really cute, my type. For a guy who isn’t the tallest guy around, I never really fancied long legged girls, with too much Lip Gloss and High Heels, nah! I could be friends with them though, if they would sponsor my lunch(don’t ask me how that went, its a long twisted embarrassing story). Back to my type of girls, I was into cute, flat shoe wearing, moderate lip glossing, not so tall and book reading babes. Yeah, I like em smart, I like em pretty *in the voice of Moto-Moto from Madagascar* not big and chunky, cus I might get killed. So, this cute babe, I saw her reading a comic book, and like a fly to a florescent light , I was drawn to her…and the comic book. By the time we had chit chatted for a few minutes, I was holding a comic book in my hand in 5 minutes, and I would be getting new supplies. I could hang out with her a few times, I had thought to myself. I wasn’t really into my own mates, I had too many Sugar School mummies on my hands (hehehehe 😀 ).
By the time I got to the front of the hostel I saw one of my school mothers and her friends who also happened to by my school mother-(pause for a bit, some of this girls were just really close to me, and in other for it not be awkward I just tagged them School Mothers, makes it easier for everybody. And some actually tell me to be their School Son, I never, Never say No.)-right by the side of the hostel entrance. One of them had seen me the previous day. On the dance floor. Dancing…With Mirabel. “Uh-ho” I said to myself as I walked towards my hostel. I was going to pretend I didn’t see them, but I decided against it. That would open a Pandora’s box of feminine wahala. Naaah, I didn’t need that. As I approached they acted like they didn’t notice me approach (kai! Women). “Hey ladies” I said with all the cuteness I could muster and hugged both of them. “I saw you yesterday O” was the first thing I was greeted with. “Is it true, Ade?” the other one asked. I opened my mouth but words didn’t come out, not that there was nothing to say, I had too much to say, and too much leads to trouble, so I just closed my jaw back. To cut the long story short, I ended up apologizing “I’m so sorry. You know I meant to come back and meet you but …” Blah!Blah!Blah! “…so how do I make it up to you guys” I said feigning remorse. “Well…” One started, tapping her cheek, it might have been the hormones or something, but before I could stop myself, I had launched at her and kissed her… On the cheek of course. What that resulted into was a very smitten school mother, she shrieked with delight and hugged me. “You’re the cutest thing ever! You’re forgiven” She said. Nicely done, Jimbo! I patted myself on the back internally. Though I wasn’t too comfortable drawing the kind of attention I got from the over 200 students in that area, at that time, mainly because I was sure that at least one guy that was ‘psyching’ my school mother would be around, and what I did was the perfect way to brew strong enemies. I was about to jet off, when the other one called me back “Hey you!” I turned back “What about me?” She asked. “Ohhhh” I cooed apologetically as I walked over to her, put my arms round her in a hug,( that my famous hug *wink*) and gave her a peck to follow. She smiled and I knew I was forgiven. As I ran to my room, I could feel the eyes of the entire world on me, some in distant admiration (or so I hoped), some in envy (especially the guys) some just watched, as the cute Js2 kid who was getting known with girls that are not his mate. On entering the hostel, I was greeted by a group of my room mates, or is it section mates now, “Bad guy!” Most of them said, a few said “Ashewo! let the senior boys catch you”. I just smiled and went to my bed to reminisce on the happenings that just took place.
I crashed into the bed, took a deep breath, the air was clean, the cleaners had cleaned the hostel earlier in the day, the window was opened and the breeze was blowing in. I must have dozed off with a smile on my face.

I don’t know how long I was out for, or if I was dreaming a sweet dream, but I was so sure I was going to slap the Js 1 boy that woke me up. “There is a girl asking after you downstairs” he said and walked out briskly. He must have seen the irritation in my face. I rinsed my face and mouth, brushed my hair and put on some perfume. One of the nicest perfumes I had ever used, my cousin bought it for me.(I know, I know, I’m thoroughly loved). I stopped on my tracks as I saw Mirabel, standing at the bottom of the stairs. I looked around and saw that my two school mothers were no longer there, they must have gone home, they were day students. Then the hostel front was now completely empty, besides the very few people passing by the hostel. It was siesta hour. I must have missed lunch. Damn! I really wanted those two pieces of meat and rice and beans. Oh well, I heaved a sigh of disappointment and relief as I stepped down the stairs. Mirabel stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me, smiling. The stair case was the winding type and a little high, so it took a few seconds to get down. I got to bottom and greeted her “Hey Mirabe-” she cut me short, her lips swallowed my words, and took my lips into hers. I kissed back, with no practice, no rehearsals O. Her hands held my face as she slowed down, she allowed my catch my breath, our lips still attached, then she kissed deeper, I held her close, wrapping my hands completely around her waist. She moaned softly, slowed down, then stopped. My eyes were still closed. “Open your eyes silly!” she said giggling. I opened my eyes “I owe you that much. I had to turn this frog into a prince” she said with a smile and walked away. I stood there, rooted into the ground for quite a while. I actually wanted to see if maybe the dream was over. I stood for a while, the dream wasn’t over, because it was not a dream. I touched my freshly dis-virgined lips and smiled. Can somebody please bring out the drums and cymbals! *Dancing Azonto*

Image gotten from Google.(My own kiss was not in class, E for bad ghan!)

WE ARE ALL PERFUME BOTTLES?

So, it may sound like another elaborate ploy of this short black boy to make all the models out there look bad, but I can assure you, it is not. Though a part of me wishes it was. I mean, I would like to be a villain, but I’m just not built like that. I mean, hating and being a villain takes up too much energy. Even in cartoons, the bad guy, the evil genius, does all the planning, and all the good guy has to do is mess it up. Simple! Maybe its not that simplistic, but hey, its basic. I like to keep things simple. Okay, I’m deviating again, haven’t mention perfume or bottle, not once. Okay, I’m going now.

We are all perfume bottles… I’m sure we’ve all flipped through one magazine or news paper or something, and have come across those nicely shaped bottles, very attractive coverings and caps, and you automatically fall in love, or should I say you instantly fall in love. In my case when I see an attractive perfume bottle, I quickly check the name and the price tag, that would either make me thank my stars or cringe at the thought of what brutality the price would do to my wallet. Yeah, that’s any man’s major concern. So, we have various categories of perfumes, based on the size, design of the container and most important of all, the content. We have the small expensive perfumes, we have big cheap perfumes, we have big expensive and small cheap perfumes. Perfumes come in various shapes and sizes, various styles and designs and so on. However as important as all those features are, the most important thing, or element of a perfume that makes it what it is, is the smell of the perfume. Yeah, the smell, that’s what makes the great names like Lacoste, D&G, Old Spice and so on, different from the 300 naira “Turari” that the local seller is selling. The smell, forget the size or the shape of the bottle or all those other things. If the smell is on point and lovely, then you don’t mind the price you’ll have to pay, so far you can afford it, even if you’ll have to save. That’s the way we humans are. You see, true beauty comes from the inside, its the character, the personality, the values, the beliefs, the faith, the principles of a person, these are the ingredients that make the perfect blend of the classy “perfume”.

Let’s assume you’re shopping one lovely afternoon, you walk into the Toiletries & Perfume segment of the store, then you see a perfume bottle that looks so darn good, you admire it, you check the price, seems like an awesome price, the bottle is large and long and will last long…”Oh My” you think to yourself. You check the price tag again just to be sure you are reading it right, you wouldn’t want to go the cashier’s stand and embarrass yourself when they say the price is N11,200 not N1,200-ouch! Anyways you’ve checked the label like 10 times then you finally decide to buy. On getting home you decide to spray on your perfume, and then walk into the living room to see which member of the family will first notice your new signature scent. You open the box and look over the perfume, beaming like a cashmere cat, then you open the cap and psstk psstk you spray it on, only to realise it smells horrible! Far below what you expected. Chai! Smells so inferior, more like an insecticide! How could you have fallen for that!? No matter how much you spend on that perfume, you are not likely to use it again. No matter how fine the bottle is.

That’s the same way we are, when our character is something of concern, its a problem. When a person is rude, or saucy, or aggressive, or violent, or proud, whatever it is, it spoils the totality of the perfume experience. No matter how fantastically packaged and pretty the person is. When picking friends, you have to look beyond what he/she looks like, how much the person has, you should look beyond the person’s presence or charisma or charms, or popularity. Because if you hang out with friends (or perfumes) who have moral deficiencies, or character flaws and are not trying to work on it, its only a matter of time before you take a bit of their perfume and add to yours, then you start smelling the same way (you know what I mean) and you do not want that. If you walk with perfumes with sweet smelling scents regardless of their looks, then you share out of it…even if you have character deficiencies, its only a matter of time before you pick some of their content and add to yours. The same applies to relationships, when we choose a spouse, mainly because of what they look like, you might be in for a shocker. The content might not be so good. Some people however, pick beautiful, sexy, shapely perfume bottles and when they find out that the content is foul smelling, they still hold on to it, they spray on the content of battery, slander, unkindness, rudeness, violence, infidelity and so on, they take it all because the container looks Oh so good. Does that make any sense? I’m sure it doesn’t. But a lot of us, I mean a whole Lot of us are guilty of this. Some of us are the culprits, some are the victims.

The same way we are careful when choosing a perfume, we should be careful when choosing those to associate with. We should be very careful, because there is always a price of cash, or time, affection and attention to pay and it is certainly not refundable. If things go wrong, we can only pick ourselves up and move on. You leave a fowl smelling perfume, the same way you walk away from destructive friends no matter how popular or cute, or rich they are. We should be careful when choosing friends or partners, ’cause at the end of the day, a fowl smell isn’t worth sticking to.

A Thousand Love Mishaps (7)

Life was getting good. Reeeeeally good, I tell you. I was just in my element mehn! I was having the time of my life. You might be wondering “What’s wrong with this one?” I’ll tell you whats wrong with this one…nothing was wrong, everything was right! Ok, so I was rolling with my cousin and her friends, her really cute friends. One of them asked me to be her school son. I felt like someone had proposed to me. I’m sure married women would roll their eyes and probably laugh. But I’m sure it would be any man’s dream to have girls propose to you, to be their boy friend, though in my own case it was to be their school son, like had used a love potion in my sleep, girls just kept asking me to be their schools son. Do you realize what that means? Free food for lunch breaks, unlimited free hugs from sexy, cute, nice smelling girls, oh please don’t hate me! Then I got cash once in a while, never got punished much by seniors, because their crushes were my school mothers, or friends to my school mothers. Though some seniors still hated my guts O. What can a man do to satisfy the world? My life was getting so preoccupied that I had to make a mental roster for the girls, which one I was meeting on which day and when. I was becoming that popular Js2 kid that all the senior girls liked, I had to start worrying about my looks and how to impress my several school mothers(its serious business O. To whom much is given, much is expected). So my life was rosy, but as you know, all good things either take a downward spiral PR they just spin out of control, if not well managed. I piled up the school mothers until … Well let me just tell you the whole gist. There was a particular school party where I was dancing with one of my “school mothers”, then another one butted in, like guys do when they want to “chance” another guy dancing with a pretty lady, in my case it was a lady that butted in, I guess that makes me the lady. So another girl butted in, I didn’t even know her. I watched my disappointed “school mother” , I was helpless, I mean, if you had a hot girl place her hands around your shoulder, whinning and grinding on you, even you would be speechless. Now, my life would have been perfect if the new girl never came, I mean, I was contented with one hot older babe dancing with me, as my class mates envied like crazy, I didn’t need another hot girl, well, I didn’t really mind, she was soooo hot, and her smell, hmmn-hmmn! Anyways, I was having fun with the new babe, until one SS2 guy, tried to butt in, I didn’t object (l was too young to die, I still am too young to die), so I was about to let go of this sweet and sensual babe( Sensual -I’ve always wanted to use that word) but she shot me that “Dont-you-dare” look, and held on tight to me. The SS2 guy, looked me in the face, and gave me the “Abi-you-wan-die” look, I in turn gave him the “please-have-mercy-I-don’t -want-to-die” look. The babe turned my face towards her, and directed our dance to another part of the floor. I could see at least two of my several school mothers, and from the look on their faces, I knew I would have a lot of questions to answer later in the week. Then another senior came around, the same thing happened, the senior left, and the babe kept dancing with me like I was her man. I was dumb, How could I not know a girl like that was trouble. “What’s your name?” She shouted over the loud music, thumping madly from the speakers. “Ade” I responded. “I’m Mirabel Onanze” you may wonder why she gave me her full names, well for two reasons; one, she wanted me to know who she was, and two, she wanted me to be sure of who she was, pretty much the same thing but, I’ll break it down for you. See there are plenty of Mirabels in school, we have the Book-worm Mirabel, we have the slut Mirabel (explanations not needed), and we have the Hot… Hawwwt… Haaawwwt… And popular Mirabel, well I didn’t meet the latter , or the first. Yeah, you got it, the middle one, the slut Mirabel. Mirabel Onanze! How lucky can a brother be? Well, she looked really hot too, and she had the sex appeal going, even for a young innocent mind like mine. “You are Mirabel Onanze!” I blurted out. Before she could respond or before I could think of a compliment to throw at her, I felt two strong hands on my shoulders, a hand in the back of my trousers, and I was off the ground. The next thing I saw was the ceiling of the hall, and I was moving towards the exit. When we got to the entrance, just before the door, the guys dropped me. I was standing face to face with I.K. the king of all muscle-building, junior-student-killing seniors, I mean, this guys eat Junior students for breakfast! You do not, I repeat, you do not want to cross their part on a Saturday morning, they will rape your dignity and joy for that day. There was a kid that was unlucky enough to meet them on a Saturday morning they were just coming from the basket ball court, they made him follow them to their room and used him as a wrestling rag dull, then used him for a masseuse (he massaged at least ten of them)… then he did their laundry… then he ran errands, he came back late and they beat the crap out of him, then they late him go, after seven hours. So you know exactly what I was dealing with, “What’s your name?” I.K.’s voice was like the voice of someone who had just smoked twelve wraps of weed. “Uhmm- s-s-sir?” I stuttered, before I could compose myself or apologising for not hearing him, or for pretending not to hear him, the back of his huge left hand had come across the left side of my small face, I spun, dazed at the speed of his hand and the pain it inflicted on my face. My two hands were over my face. I let the pain sink in, as my hears were ringing slightly, now I could hardly hear him. “I’m sure your ears are cleaned out now” he said with a wry smile on his face. “So answer my question” He commanded. I could feel the sobs coming, You know those periods that you’re in so much trouble that all that is left to do is cry. I mean, I couldn’t even run! But then I couldn’t cry, because that would be suicide. I had better chances trying to outrun a pack of wolves than escaping those guys. I swallowed hard, telling myself how bad I would look if I started crying. One it was in public, a man can’t cry in public, at a party! Hell to the No. And two, my mouth looks really funny when I’m crying, saw it once in the mirror, you know, like all those american movies where the actor cries in the mirror when he’s broken or something, it always looked so good on them. In my own case,I bursted into laughter, that ish ain’t pretty man. It was so ugly, even I had to laugh, in the midst of tears. So doing it there in front of those guys, that would be the height of ridicule and stupidity. So I took a deep shaky death, burying my sobs, and gave him my name. “Ade” I said , almost inaudibly. If only one of my numerous school mothers could come to my rescue, that’s all I was thinking. “I no hear you nau” I.K was getting impatient… “I go light you another slap O!” He was waving his huge hand on my face. Yeh! If he was going to use his right hand, I was definitely going to pass out. I prepared myself for the worst. “I.K.!” In heard someone call from behind me, I was too terrified to look back. “I.K!” The person called again. “Let the boy go!” Calvary! I turned around and standing there was Mirabel. I was shocked. Why her? People don’t usually step in for juniors who have entered the valley of the shadow of death, especially if its someone like I.K that’s administering the beating. And she did it with so much audacity!
“Wetin be your own?!” I.K. was obviously irritated.
“What did he do to you ,l.K.?” She walked up to him, square in the face, like Gbam! Even I was scared for her.”Mirabel, this is none of your business”. Mirabel didn’t even budge, or blink.
“I am making it my business” she stated. I.k. stood up, towering over her, his eyes intimidating. Mirabel hissed “We both know how this is going to end, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to dance with my school son.” When I heard ‘”school son” I was puzzled. Like, when did we make that arrangement? Funny enough, while I was looking from Mirabel to I.K with a puzzled look, I.K was looking from Me to Mirabel, and back at me, with the same puzzled look. He must have caught the lost expression on my face. He smiled a knowing sinister smile “Mirabel, why are you lying to save this rat?”. It was Mirabel’s turn to get impatient “Ikemufuna Osadebe” she called his full names “….Let the boy go”. There was tension, no one said a word, not even I.K’s boys. He gave me a piercing look, turned his back and left without saying a word. Before I could even think of all the nice things to say to Mirabel, her arms were already around my shoulder, as she led me to the other side of the dance floor where all the drinks were arranged for consumption. She sat me down and looked over my face in the deem light. “Are you alright?” She asked caressing my cheek with her thumb.” Yeah I’m fine” I said nodding like an agama lizard. She smiled “would you like to go for a walk?” She asked me. “Outside?” I asked with a puzzled look on my face, she laughed “Of course ,silly. Outside.” So we held hands and went outside. It was beautiful evening, the sky was clear, allowing the stars glitter in suspense over the heavens. It was a beautiful night to get kissed. For my mind abi?

The Rantings Of A Short Black Boy …Short Blaq Boi

*Picks up Magazine*…*Sips Garri…Suddenly drops spoon* *Angrily drops magazine*
What the Hell! Whaaaaat the hell is it! All this magazines sef, what is the problem!?Always talking all manner of Nonsense. Im sure you’re wondering what I am ranting about. Well, let me tell you, its just rediculous that the media has put it upon itself to make life miserable for men. Yes, men! And Im talking about this “six-feet- tall” burden that has been put on our backs as guys. Yes, it started from fashion, the person must be 6 feet tall, all built up, all rubbed up in oil…Does he have to be six feet tall?! Then of course we have the movies, must the guy AAAALWAYS have to be taller,I mean, who would die if the girl was taller for once. Just once! And the heroe has to be taller than the damsel, yack! So unrealistic. Now every small girl is shouting “he has to be tall dark and handsome”…how are you sure all the
“tall dark and handsome” fellas out there are not serial killers, psychopaths or even ….Gay…yeah, it stings that alot are. So what is my point? My point is this, dwarfs should be utilized more often, they are usually pretty hot if U ask me, well built too. And you would give alot of guys a chance in the dating world. Come on, just for one year, use not-so-tall guys for adverts,romatic roles and fashion spreads. I mean look at Bowwow, MI,Flavour Flave,Martin Lawrence…heck even my causin Spookie, Aki and Pawpaw and so on(No disrespect meant,especially to my cousin spookie).
Everybody thinks making fun of people’s heights automatically becomes funny. Well, we could turn the table and say all tall people have brain defficiency,cus air doesnt climb all the way to the head at the required rate.That wouldnt be so funny, would it?…maybe it would, any time a tall person goofs out of does something silly, it should be related to air not getting to his brain, that would hurt!…Oh yes it would ,wouldn’t it?! Muhahahaha! So back on course…it doesnt make any sense!!! Aaghhhhh!!!Get a grip all you girls out there,and make the world a better place,JEEEZ! You know what I’ll do? No you dont, because I haven’t told you. Anyway,Im going to tell you. I am going to start my own beauty pagent and Modeling agency for Brief and Cute men. Yeah thats what am gonna do, and am gonna push it down everybody’s throat, thanks to media! You’ll see Mr.Cute and Brief everywhere you turn, on TV, on the radio, on your blogs in Magazines, on the internet, facebook, In church, in the mosque,in the cathedral, in the museum, in the queens palace(whichever queen you want to mention) and there is nothing, I mean NOTHING anybody will be able to do about it….MUHAHAHAHAHA! (This villain laugh thing really works, it has a kind of soothing effect). *picks up spoon from floor…licks it and drops it in cup…Picks up magazine again* …What the Hell!!!!! What is it with these people???!!!. Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!
For realz now…I think everyone is beautiful, and that whatever shape size or colour you are,it doesnt really matter, someone loves you, someone lurking in the background…hoping to get a chance to let you know they like you. The respect you are accorded in life depends directly on the respect you give yourself, and project onto others. Love yourself, Love YOU,cus no one is exactly like you. And God made you this way for a reason, and trust me, its the best way You could ever wish to be. Be proud of what you look like, and people will have no choice but to be proud of it too. 😉

The Rantings Of A Short Black Boy …Short Blaq Boi

*Picks up Magazine*…*Sips Garri…Suddenly drops spoon* *Angrily drops magazine*
What the Hell! Whaaaaat the hell is it! All this magazines sef, what is the problem! Always talking all manner of Nonsense. Im sure you’re wondering what I am ranting about. Well let me tell you, its just rediculous that the media has put it upon itself to make life miserable for men. Yes, men! And Im talking about this “six feet” tall burden that has been put on our backs as guys. Yes, it started from fashion, the person must be 6 feet tall, all built up, all rubbed up in oil…does he have to be six feet tall?! Then of course we have the movies, must the guy AAAALWAYS have to be taller,I mean, who would die if the girl was taller for once. Just once! And the heroe has to be taller than the damsel, yack! So unrealistic. Now every small girl is shouting he has to be”tall dark and handsome”…how are you sure all the

“tall dark and handsome” fellas out there are not serial killers, psychopaths or even ….Gay…yeah, it stings that alot are. So what is my point? My point is this, dwarfs should be utilized more often, they are usually pretty hot if U ask me, well built too. And you would give alot of guys a chance in the dating world. Come on, just for one year! Use not-so-tall guys for adverts, romatic roles and fashion spreads. I mean look at Bowwow, MI,Flavour Flave,Martin Lawrence…heck even my causin Spookie!
That being said, all movie directors should use lines like “He doesnt have to be tall” or “Ohhh George is so cute, though he’s short,he knows how to please a Lady” “Oh I just love medium height men” I mean, the list is endless! Am I being unreasonable? Of course Not! Damn near gabe me a heart faliure a few years back, checking through movie channels.. I wanted to scream for my mom and a glass of milk and Gin(milk and Gin is crappy by the way) that said. I will try to rest my case now. For goodness sake Im not gonna keep quiet…its just not right. Im gonna keep fighting and talking…and well, writing for the greater good. The good of all men, all men bellow six feet…Oh yes, for I have a dream! A dream that a dwarf gets to play 007, that some day, all hot girls will look on tall men like they were plagued…Oh yeahhhhh Baby, the tall ones started it first! Dont blame me for being a psycho! …wait, did I just call myself a psycho!?…Loooool! *sips garri* okay,Im just messing with y’all,Im not some short version of Adulf Hitler. However, all men are created equal, regardless of their height or complexion, or complexes, past, and present. Ultimately, the world will see you the way you truly see yourself. See the best possible YOU, act the best possible YOU,and you will see that you have become the BEST POSSIBLE YOU. Try it for a month, then try being nice for a week. You’ll see 🙂

A Thousand Love Mishapp (6)

“So this is what hell feels like…” I thought to myself as I packed my things from my desk and shoved them into my bag. “Kai!!!” I thought out loud.”Why did she have to do this where I could see her ?” It felt like my wife had cheated on me. I was still kind of furious about the whole ordeal,when my cousin (well,more like family-friend-turned-cousin) in SS3 called me from outside the class. I never mentioned her before? Yeah,cus she’s bossy,and sometimes mean. She was like the popular, cute, tough girl. Like the Iron Lady,name sounds really nice,now that I think of it. So,she called me out of class,and as any popular,cute girl would do,she had her relatively cute friends with her,about four or three of them,all cute,neat looking,with lip gloss smackin’ fresh. I walked out of the class, expecting her to interrogate me on why I hadnt taken the weekend from school to come to her place or deliver a message from her mom…the thing is she is a day student while I am a bording student, or border as they call us(yup,the school was mixed). So,I stepped out of class,my bag hanging by my hand over my shoulder,I was already emotionally tired, beaten up,dragged across a road,and dumped in water…so to say I wasnt in the mood to be lectured would be an understatement. “Hey Sharon,”I greeted her “Whats up?”.
“Its him…” one if her friends whispered,looking excited. I slowed my pace, as I came down the stairs,I noticed the cute SS3  girls were looking at me kind of funny, well, like I was a celeb or something…seriously!
My cousin walked up to me and gave me a hugg, which was not unusual,but she seemed a little excited than usual. “Ade” her voice seemed unusually sweet “You look handsome today” she said when she released me from the hug. “Thanks” I managed a smile.
She turned me to face her friends, and she intoduced us,I shook their hands warmly as she mentioned their names. One of them even happened to be my name sake. “Are you doing anything now?” Sharon asked me. I thought for a minute,it was too early to deal with Jemimah, I would be seeing her in the evening. “Not really” I answered.
“Then why dont you hang out with me and the girls for a while” my cousin invited.
“Alright, sure”
“Yipeee!” One of the girls yelped in excitement, she walked up to me and her arms were around me,she was hawwwt! You know I was small in stature, so I couldnt reach her shoulder and I didnt want to put my hand around her waiste…though I was more than tempted, but as a young man trying to survive,its adviseable to park well. “So you’re the cute singer” another said rubbing her soft fingers across my left cheek, Oh my,she smelt like lavander, (I actually dont know what lavander smells like,but I know she was smelling nice, and it wasnt rose,or almond or whatever was common). I gave my mugun smile. “Well,its the entire band that sang ,not just me” I said with a shy smile on my face, trying to form humble guy.
“But you sang the solo nau?” My cousin inserted.
“Yeah sure,I did” and they all swooned and made me promise I would sing them a song in the future. I was feeling really fantastic about myself, but I didn’t allow myself enjoy it, mainly because my heart was cracked by what I had seen earlier that day (what?! I can be very emotional). Hanging out with Sharon and her crew was fun, at least it took my mind off the whole Jemimah issue for a couple of hours. When Sharon and her friends finally released me,I went up to my room…sat in a chair and imagined what Jemimah might be doing at the moment. As I was trying to pour myself a somewhat miserable bowl of cereal,I was too tired to try and find something to eat,besides the junk Sharon and friends stuffed me with,which I was very grateful for,don’t get me wrong…as I poured the cereal,a junior student walker into my room. “Senior Jemimah is looking for you downstairs” flash back to when that other girl messed up…what’s her name again sef ? Anyways, I dropped my bowl of cereal and dragged myself downstairs. “Hey baby,” she cooed as she gave me a hug…(ahhhhhh…felt so good…oh yes, I was upset,almost forgot that part). “Hi” I answered, obviously dull.
“Whats the matter sweet heart?”
I was a little dumb fouded by the answer, not that I wasnt expecting the question,I just hadnt gotten myself to prepare for an answer, it sounds like a student knows a test in on monday but still refuses to even look at his notebook. I totally wasn’t prepared…I had to lie. “Im fine, just a bit moody today”
“Awww…” she exclaimed and gave me a hug.”Come here baby. How can I make you feel better?”
“You’re doing just fine already” I said, feeling sweet and sour at the same time.
She bought me a bar of Snickers and we took a short walk to a secluded spot. As we sat, there was this awkward silence that we have never had before…I broke it. “So, is there any guy you like in particular ,apart from your class mates and those boys disturbing you?”
“Well” she started “Not really, I have close friends but …”
“So you have everything you want” I cut in, hoping she would get the hidden implication of that statement. “Yeah…” she said smiling at me. “But there is this one guy…” the tone in which she made that statement sank my heart all the way to my small intestine.”…I think he gets me”
“But I get you!” I said with some emphasis. She smile and touched my hair. “Yes you do sweetheart, you’re my son, you should get me” and she continued talking about him…I was getting really uncomfortable sitting there with her. So I was nothing more than a school son. Just business as usual. I slapped myself in my mind “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” I thought to myself. As I watched Jemimah talk about some other guy, with so much light on her eyes ,my fake smile plastered to my face,it dawned on me that I was the Joker here. “My stomach hurts” I lied. I got up and walked away. She seemed stunned,surprised. She knew something was wrong but she never asked and I never mentioned. Thats how I and Jemimah ended unofficially, because we were still ‘School Son and Mother’ but we hardly talked, I was with my cousin most of the time and when I wasnt I was with another group of girls(thats a gist for later), and when ever we got to talk it was usually brief. I always saw the puzzle in her eyes, she always saw the hurt in mine, but we never discussed it, she never asked, maybe she found out. Oh well, that was how the Jemimah phase ended. However,I was sure my romance life hadnt ended. …Oh, it hadnt.

Our Expectations In Relationships

There are two big problems in dating.
1) You don’t want the people who want you.
2) The people you want don’t want you in return.
Now, take a look at those two problems; which one do you think you can change?
Most of us take the futile route of trying to change the second one – “How do I MAKE him like me?” “I’m exactly what he’s looking for!” “He doesn’t know what’s good for him.” But, as we’ve established a few hundred times on this blog, you can’t change anyone else’s thinking.
What you can change is YOU.
To be fair, it’s possible to “make” someone like you by becoming a more desirable catch – there’s no doubt that a man who earns more money, gains more confidence, and gets more experience will have a more positive dating life. But he’s not actually CHANGING women. He’s only changing himself.
But increasing your dating options can be a risky proposition, at best. Men can’t always make more money. Women can’t always lose weight. And as easy as it is to talk about gaining confidence and experience, most folks would rather sit on the sidelines and complain that the people you want don’t want you in return.
This is a waste of time.
In fact, the easiest remedy for an ailing love life is to want the people who want you.
In fact, the easiest remedy for an ailing love life is to want the people who want you.
It is anathema to suggest this, of course. Any conversation about opening up to more potential prospects leads us down the slippery slope to settling. And as the furor surrounding Lori Gottlieb’s brilliant book proved, nothing pisses women off more than the suggestion that they may be somewhat responsible for being single.
But, to be crystal clear, it’s not just women.
There are tons of 38-year-old male Ivy-League educated lawyers who just can’t find a single woman good enough for him. These guys, who are, like me, probably 7′s in looks and 9′s in intelligence, just can’t help but to go for women who are 9′s in looks, but 5′s in emotional intelligence/compatibility.
One of the things that I’ve often thought is that none of these men would marry someone like my wife, even though my wife is – objectively – just about the coolest woman on the planet. They’d have the same objections I did: a little too old, not a Harvard grad, blahblahblah.
The reason I’m bringing this up is that I made a CHOICE to find an amazing partner and create an amazing life – and all I had to do was give up that IMAGE that I’d had of dating a woman who was Just. Like. Me.
If you’re single, and never find anybody “good enough,” chances are that you do the exact same thing.
Today, I’m calling you out.
Because if you’ve been dating this way for 5, 10 or 20 years, there’s something that you’re not seeing.
And that something is this:
If a 42-year-old man says that he’s ONLY attracted to 9′s and 10′s who are in their late 20′s, that’s fabulous. But if NONE of the 9′s and 10′s he covets are interested in him in return, it only makes sense that this man needs to recalibrate his dating options. 6′s and 7′s are readily interested in him, but he doesn’t find them attractive enough. Without knowing this man, I think it would be clear that he’s overestimating himself. If he can get only 6s and 7′s in looks, he’s probably a 6 or a 7 in looks himself. Therefore, if he ever wants to get married, it would probably make sense to start appreciating the 6s and 7′s and choose the one that he’s most attracted to, who shares the same values and can be his best friend for life.
I’d think it would be hard to argue with that logic.
So should it be any more controversial if we flip the genders around?
If you think you “deserve” a certain kind of partner … and yet you’ve NEVER gotten him, you need to start considering another kind of partner.
If the 38-year-old woman MBA who owns her own condo, runs marathons, and can complete the Sunday New York Times crossword only likes 9′s and 10′s… but those same men always a) prefer younger women or b) ultimately break her heart because they’re egotistical, selfish narcissists who only want younger women and aren’t ready to settle down… should she keep holding out for them? Wouldn’t it make much more sense to marry one of the devoted 7′s who think she’s the bee’s knees?
Apparently not.
Because that would be settling.
And settling is bad.
Therefore, all of these amazing men and women remain single indefinitely. Because They. Will. Not. Settle.
They would rather tilt at windmills, trying to acquire a partner who DOESN’T want them, instead of realizing that the BEST partner for them is the one who WANTS them and VALUES them and thinks THEY are a catch.
And the culprit in all this? Our unrealistic expectations – of how we see ourselves – and of what we expect of our partners.
If you price a candy bar at $100 and there are no buyers, you need to lower the price of the candy bar.
If you think you “deserve” a certain kind of partner – not just someone who is rich, hot, and brilliant, but a rich, hot, brilliant partner who STICKS AROUND – and yet you’ve NEVER gotten him, you need to start considering another kind of partner.
The key is in letting go of the image you’ve been holding onto. Because real relationships aren’t about credentials; they’re about connection. And I truly believe there are thousands of people you can potentially be happy with… if only you didn’t have such a rigid idea of what it looked like.
Last night, I was coaching a favorite client, Katie, who is part of my Inner Circle AND a Passion Course member.
Katie is 58 and never married. Of course. She never wanted to settle.
After rebranding her on Match.com, she’s getting a ton of attention and is being chased down by two men simultaneously.
Tom is the brainy, charismatic one who talks about himself incessantly, sends template emails, and hasn’t followed up in a week.
Bill is a fun guy, makes her laugh, is a great kisser, and has followed up for four dates in two weeks.
Katie wanted to know how to make Tom like her and how to get rid of Bill. When we dug deeper, I learned that she was embarrassed at the thought of introducing her friends to Bob because he wasn’t as “sophisticated” as her other tony Connecticut friends.
I asked Katie, point-blank: Are you attracted to Bill? “Yes”
Real relationships aren’t about credentials; they’re about connection.
Do you have fun around Bill? “Oh, yes!”
Is he consistently good to you? “Absolutely. He’s crazy about me.”
So why are you trying so hard to run away? Because of what your friends think? Because Bill’s not what you’ve pictured in your head for 58 YEARS?
“Yeah, kind of.”
I’m delighted to report that Katie is going out with Bill again. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she “settled” her way into an amazing relationship.
By thinking you’re “better” than everyone who wants you, you’re eliminating the greatest source of love around – the person who wants you! And you may be surprised to find that you can be EXTREMELY happy with someone who doesn’t meet your preconceived image of your ideal mate.
I certainly have been.
(Culled from http://www.evanmarckatz.com/blog.)