When A Woman's Growed Up

So most times I try to operate from the place that God knows my needs and what I can handle. I like to call this, “God knows what’s up.” This mantra is apparent in the big things like when my life is spared or when a lesson is learned. It can be less obvious in the things that seem to have no clear answer for someone who can't tell the future, like when I ruminate on why I’m still single and ain’t got no huzband. And then little scenarios like the ones below give me pause.

So I know a lady, let’s call her Paula. So Paula has a son, who’s 9 years old. She and the son’s father, aka baby daddy (Steven) are not currently and have never been married. However, Steven did want to marry Paula for the longest time. Even put a ring on it. But Paula preferred being out in the skreets and had Steven on a string, until he cut that string, and married the first available chick who came strutting by. And since they are in the A, it didn’t take long. So Steven and new chick, (Tanya) get married. Cool right? I mean blended families are a thing of the Brady Brunch. And every other weekend ain’t no thang.

Well Paula loses her job. And she stays unemployed for awhile. A good while. Like at least a year and still going while.. And the whole time she’s been unemployed, Steven is paying for everything. Everything? Everything. © Katt Williams. Her rent, her bills, her lifestyle. Now one could make the argument that he has to take care of his son, and Paula is just an extension of that responsibility. But one could also make the argument that Paula is a grown ass woman and that supporting her for up to 3 months was cool, but once month 4 hit, lil youngin’ is moving in with us and her ass is grass.

But see that’s my single, selfish side talking. That’s my, y’all weren’t even married, it’s not like you owe her alimony, so I'm out this motha cause I can do bad all by myself (all royalties to Tyler Perry) talking. Cause maybe from the view from here, I can’t see the forest for the trees.

Maybe I don’t know what it’s really like to be all deep down in the muck and mire of being a two. To put aside selfishness and finger snapping and neck rolling for the good of the team. Maybe this thing called marriage is really about compromise. Maybe it’s about not stepping on a landmine and saying, “Nygga you done lost your mind if you think that money that could be spent on this household is goin to pay for that heffa to get her hair and nails done,” knowing good and well that he loves his son, would do anything for him, even if that means making the mother of his child a kept woman – as my mom put it. Maybe it’s about understanding that being a single Black woman is not the business, so once you found a good man (and trust me Steven is a good man and FOINE) you gotta hold on to what you got and make it work.

Now I’m not saying if I were married I still wouldn’t think this scenario was pure craziness. And wouldn't be giving Paula my inner side eye and emailing her job posts on a daily basis. I mean I’m Rum Punch through and through. But when I look at the complexities of this situation, all the layers, the unkowns that could happen once you finally commit, it makes me realize that I still got some growing to do. Not just so I can get me a huzband, but cause that's just how this thing called life goes. And that's what's up.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!