I Don’t Get Men


Like, I don’t get them (possess them) and I don’t get them (understand them). When I think I’ve figured out life and love and God, I get hit upside the head. Wop! Pop! Bang! Then I’m standing there in the middle of my feelings like “oh, guess I was wrong.” Who told life to be so complicated? Why can’t it be simple? When I was a little girl, it was soooo simple. This was life:

  1. Love mom and dad.
  2. Love Jesus.
  3. Get good grades.
  4. Graduate (from all sorts of school).
  5. Meet (smart, sexy) man.
  6. Fall in love with man (and vice versa).
  7. Meet man’s family.
  8. Fall in love with man’s family (and vice versa).
  9. Marry man.
  10. Buy house.
  11. Have man’s babies.
  12. And repeat.

Twelve steps! This could be a recovery program of some sort. But nooooooo, not my life. Mmmm mmm. Na. I’ve been repeating steps 5-8 for like 10 years now. Real talk. I think I created some in between steps too – 5.5, 5.7, 7.1, 7.7, etc. Chile, and I think I’ve become jaded. You should hear the way I talk about relationships now. Every time I see a cute guy in Walmart or something (I’m lying because I never see cute guys in Walmart), these are some of the many things I think to myself:

  1. Ummmm hello, cutie. And what is your name?
  2. Yassss for that beard and those broad shoulders.
  3. Let me mind my business because he is probably married to some ugly chick (because them ugly chicks are ALWAYS married!).
  4. Hmmmm, no ring. Well, he probably likes dudes . . . and they probably went out to celebrate when they heard the Supreme Court ruling. Now they’re probably planning their wedding. And that ish is probably going to be the bomb. They might have some doves and harps and white suits and everything.
  5. Ok if he’s not gay, he probably works somewhere that would make me smh.
  6. He probably can’t spell.
  7. He probably can’t read.
  8. He probably smells like feet.
  9. I bet you he tells stupid jokes.
  10. I bet he’s not a good kisser. Like, who hasn’t figured out how to kiss properly by 30? I should teach a class……na, mono is real.
  11. His credit score is probably lower than the number of spaghetti noodles I’m making for dinner tonight.
  12. You know what? That beard ain’t even all that anyway.

You see what I’ve done there? Girl, and I can’t stop myself! I’ve created a monster in myself! God is going to have to work on me. That’s all I can say.

The good news is that I don’t feel down and out or anything. I’m completely optimistic that I will find (or be found by) the love of my life and will live contently every after. I have also thought about a life without marriage and feel equally satisfied with that. It’ll be cool either way. I kinda just want to know what’s going to happen though. Because if I’m not going to get married, I can really stop shaving. Like, for real. I will also lay off this diet I’m supposed to be on. Just let me know, God. Y’all pray for me! 😉

I'm Mariah. Jesus is my homie. I live in (and was raised in) the south. I am, as often as possible, actively grateful for my family because I understand their life giving power. Really dislike melodramatics. Really love reading and writing so much so that I aspire to be an author. What else?

4 comments on “I Don’t Get Men

  1. Listen!!! If you didn’t just speak the ABSOLUTE truth!! We live in such interesting times. I LOVE your blogs!!

  2. This is my life. This is so me. We need to find the island where they breed all the sexy men worth building a relationship with….because it has to be an island….because I haven’t met any in the continental U.S.
    And people keep saying, “Your time will come!” Like….can I get an ETA so I can at least be faux cute around the time “He” is supposed to return (“He” referring to the man I’m supposed to happily spend my life with….not Jesus; although at the rate I’m going, Jesus just might show up first!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: