Don't Worry, Be Happy

So the verdict is in. Black women get edumacted, but not married. They stay fabulous, fierce, and foolish about love. They are as hopless as a penny with a hole in it. And more bitter about it all than Starbucks coffee. In addition to that bitter label, they are also, mean. Never smile.

And so originally this post was going to chastise us y’all other Black women who do be stank actin’ and how we y’all need to get it together grouch and stop being so evil. Yes, I have gotten some reports back from the men folk – apparently we y’all is evil. Have a-tti-tude. Turning good men away based simply off their looks and chunkiness. Not even taking the time to get to know them. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Black women. We’ll You’ll never get a man like that will we you? No, we you won’t.

And then I was reading my favorite advice columnist Carolyn Hax and someone posed this question: Dear Carolyn: I recently read one of your columns where you said it was easy to be unhappy. Do you think it's easier than being happy? With now many years of experience under your belt, why do you think people protect their bitterness, anger, weaknesses and past traumas to the end, no matter what they lose? I've watched some people lose almost everything and everyone in order to hang on to what a friend called "their triumphant unhappiness."

Triumphant unhappiness. I like that. And so did Carolyn. And here’s some of her response:

Yes, I do think it's easier day-to-day to be unhappy. Meaning, when we're faced with these little decisions about how to perceive something, it's always a little bit easier to blame than it is to celebrate…

And it's always a little bit easier to put that blame on someone/something else: "Guys are such jerks" is easier than "I missed obvious signs that he didn't like me," or "I expected him to read my mind and be my little puppet, when in fact I didn't pay any attention to what he might have wanted or the ways I might have dismissed his feelings."

That's why I think it's harder in the short run to choose celebration over blame -- you have to take responsibility for more of your own bad outcomes. "He's a great guy" becomes, when it doesn't work out: "He really is a great guy, he just doesn't love me," or "I took him for granted, and didn't treat him the way he deserved."…

In the long run, though, those little easy choices make life so much harder. When you're cumulatively pessimistic and/or fundamentally negative, you're actively choosing to accept a lower allotment of joy…

There’s more. But we’ll just stop there. While this discussion may seemingly be based off one woman who wrote a book and needs publicity, and a filmed roundtable of Black women casually chatting about their relationship woes thinly veiled as a PR vehicle for Mr. Steve Harvey’s, thing that holds up the wobbly coffee table book, the reality is that there are a lot of Black women walking around who are triumphantly unhappy. Walking round thinking that the world owes them something cause they’re here. Who got sold a pipe dream. Who feel they’ve been dealt a raw deal. Who would rather mope around lamenting about what they should have, instead of finding the beauty in what they've got. And I'm not talking about that fabulous wardrobe. Please note that my high school graduate hairdresser has just as much Gucci and Louis in her closet - so I'm not sure what's up with all this, 'but I have fabulous Manolos, why don't I have man' mess. But as usual I digress.

Now I know what you’re thinking, is this the same Rum Punch who wrote this and this and this?!? Why yes, I am. And trust and believe that my ovaries do hurt when I help out in the church nursery and the cutest three year old boy comes over and tells me he misses his mommy Or when I see the Obamas my own parents slow dancing together. But that is not my right now. That is not my joy. And on the flip side, that was not my struggle - so that I could experience said joy. I didn’t carry no baby for 9 months, and now gotta feed it, raise it and love it. I don’t know about wanting to smack the ish outta your husband or the art of compromise that has to occur for people to be married for 35+ years.

And if there’s one thing the twists and turns of 2009, and 2008, and 2007 - lol- reinforced for me is that it’s hard to create a life that works for you. And only you. That doesn’t fit into society’s rules and expectations. That makes you proud. And yes it gets harder when mama starts asking for grandbabies. And old people start looking at your left finger, then give you that sad, puppy dog face look, then pat you on your arm and say, "don't worry baby. Your time is coming." And other people between the ages of 21-35, follow convention, or fall in love or need a tax write off, and start pairing off - and you wonder when is it my turn Lord, Jesus? When?!? Living a life focused on the 'when wills.' The 'I don't haves.' The 'this is great, but what I really want is...'

And while you're standing at your fence with 'their married grass is greener' syndrome, the bitterness is settling in. Getting nice and comfy. You got that promotion. But Keisha got that ring. Bitter. You got that house. But Sonya had her baby. Twins! BItter. You take that great vacation, only to get Melanie's wedding invitation in the pile of mail when you return. BITTER. And here you go, clinging to this bitterness, this triumphant unhappiness, making it clear to all in your path that if this is the boat you're gonna be in then you're going down with the ship and not accepting a life preserever, like it's going to kill you to be nice. Kill you to smile. To speak to strangers, or ummm at least your co-workers?

Not realizing that this thing, you been doing, working 8+ hours of, drinking through, complaining about, banishing a potential lifelong friend to the guest role of winter boo, this thing that you hate so much, that is oh so miserable, that you're spending waiting for something else to happen, for it to really start, ummm is actually your life boo. Like for real. Not for play, play. And you walking around mean mugging it like it talked bout your mama. Giving it and everyone else the stink eye. The other day on facebook, one of my friends' favorite quotes, said to her by a random dude on the subway was, "Smile, it won't mess your hair up." And I died. So, can we Black women, try to let some bitterness go, stop channeling Tupac 'Me Against the World', sweep out the darkness and make room for sunshine and rainbows? Try to smile? Laugh? Be *truly* happy with what we got? It won't mess our hair up. Or our lives.

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

ok ma, and? or why single successful black women might need to get over themselves

*author's note: this post is long as hell shawty but i had a lot to say about the topic. enjoy!*

we all know her. we might be her.

25-40
black
female
degreed
self-proclaimed "professional"
dresses well
hair did
wants to be married with kids
but SINGLE, and secretly (or unashamedly) despising every minute of her singlehood.

i understand it's hard out here for a black woman. we gotta deal with a lot of shit. historically we've had to deal with a lot of shit. but just like jewish folks weren't the only group of folks that were ever enslaved tortured and massacred, we aren't the only demographic that has to make a way outta no way. it's hard out here for pimps. hoes. asian men. nigerian terrorists. baby right whales. walmart cashiers. you follow me?

but somewhere along the way, little black girls who grew up into accomplished black women picked up this attitude. this air about them. a couple of traits, frames of mind, or points of reference that have screwed up (some of) our heads and quite possibly hindered our own progress, fed our own relationship failures: a sense of ENTITLEMENT & an INABILITY TO CHANGE.

the common thread between the widely discussed washington post article on helena andrews and the abcnews piece (via blacksnob.com) on black women unmarried was the idea that because "successful" black women ("SBW") have worked so hard to get the degree(s), have toiled to buy homes, fancy cars, nice clothes, and the hottest shoes, spent hours at the gym getting their bodies tight, shelled out beaucoup cash getting their hair and nails done, and faithfully attended and tought sunday school at the neighborhood church they ought to have a "successful" black man.

they deserve him. he is their due. not to mention that they are more deserving of a man, and more particularly what they consider to be a quality man, than women who don't have degrees, don't have "they shit together."

first and foremost, i think, feel, and know that love is hard! true love is a privilege. to find the right person at the right time is a challenge. every person on the planet doesn't get the opportunity to have it. there is no formula for it.

and so to imagine yourself entitled to love, marriage and a baby carriage just because you have achieved those things that make you successful (on paper) or in the eyes of your mamanem doesn't necessarily mean you'll be successful in marriage. the skills and know-how you learned and used to get the degree, the job, the promotion are not AT ALL the same ones needed to find, attract, and keep a man who wants to be married.

the sense of entitlement really becomes apparent when you look at the SBW's reaction to married/engaged/boo'ed up women who they think are "less than." especially if these women are with men who the SBWs think ought to be with them.   prime example: the backlash against reggie bush on the cover of essence this month (check the comments). black women go HOARD when they think someone less than is getting what's theirs. let a man with a law degree wife a woman without a comparable level of status. how dare he!

sadly ladies, he can and he will. cause what you as a SBW bring to the table might not be what your targeted pool of men is looking for. and an entitled attitude won't change that. love doesn't work the way that grad school admissions do. you might could be mad that homegirl from state university got in over you, harvard graduate. but in love, you ass out. he gotta want you too and maybe what you present isn't what he wants. what do you do then?

which brings me to the second problem SBWs have: a hard time changing.

now helena andrews and her friends presented themselves as accomplished, successful, having standards but carrying an edginess, a bitch side if you will. ms. andrews might be a self-described “mean girl.” that's cool. you can be alladat. but SBWs who take on that mantle must also realize what comes with that in terms of finding a husband.

if your m.o. is to be tough/bitchy/attitudy/overly sassy/a mean girl then you have to understand what that means for your dating prospects. you have to be cognizant of how men perceive you.

let me give an example ya'll can identify with.: a friend of a friend is in her mid-30's and wants to be married. she's fly, attractive and doing it real big in her field. she's won lots of awards for her work. but she's also very brisk, curses a whole lot, and generally abrasive. and she don't want to change. she say she is who she is and that men oughta take her as she is.

i can get wit that on some levels. you are who you are. people can take it or leave it. don't go changing for the world. the man who can love you for you will come along. right?

WRONG. this is the lie, the falsehood, the myth that SBWs have bought into. you can't have it all. do you wanna be married or do you wanna stay the way you are and do what you wanna do for the rest of your life? either choice is fine but you can't do both. being in a relationship and/or married requires compromise, change over time. being less of yourself at times so your partner can be more. i'm not saying you have to do a 180 change to get a man but you can't continue to be every single fiber of who you are without some reflection on how every single fiber of who you are has (or has not) worked for you in terms of finding a man. and if finding a man is your priority you might have to change a fiber or two.

take michelle obama, the SBWs poster child for seemingly being able to have it all. michelle couldn't be the high powered executive and the FLOTUS. just wasn't gonna happen. she couldn't even be the local politician's wife and the big law firm partner at the same time for that matter. when barack decided he wanted to run she had to decide what she was gon do. the new supporting role she was gonna have to play for the family. she couldn't be running shit her way. she couldn't be resistant to change. right now she's sitting down while he stands up. that's part of the compromise of saying to yourself, i wanna be part of a we instead of just unchanged me.

or take ms. nicole from the video: prosecuting attorney, running for state court judge, atlanta falcons cheerleader, drives a benz, lightskinneded, long hair, unmarried, no boo in sight. she is doing the MOST. when she gonna have time for a man? cause men want to feel wanted and important. to know you have time for them in your life. that you aren't running all over the place (or so i'd imagine). nicole might wanna talk to some of her married friends and change some things. or not.  just keep doing what you been doing.

or other black woman who said she met a white man, they vibed over drinks and conversation. she thought to herself, "oh he's gonna ask for my number." but he didn't. another woman suggested she shoulda asked for his. "no! i don't do that." and you remain alone. why don't you "do that"? has not "doing that" been working for you thus far? you might wanna consider changing things up. if you're not comfortable asking for a number, suggest another outing. slip him your business card with your number. CHANGE what you normally do. or not. and be who you are. but don't expect different results.   you can't do both.

what say ya'll?