June 20th was a warm day in Brooklyn, when I woke I found myself in a pool of sweat. The room was humid, you almost felt as though you could slice the air like pie. I was rudely awaken from my dream by my obnoxiously loud ringer. I wanted desperately to go back to my dream that involved me marrying Idris Elba. We were about to consummate our union, when the phone disturbed me. Oh well, it was a dream, so nothing to get excited about, thought it felt so real. When I moved my mask from my eyes and grabbed my phone resting on the nightstand, I saw the name and sent the call to voicemail. I know that’s a douche bag move but he wasn’t deserving of an answer.
He called about ten times back to back before I put my phone on silent. I stumbled out of the bed and realized my legs and arms were sore. I don’t recall the woman getting that many swings in but hey, such is life. I walked over to the window in a snail like motion. My head hurt from being hungover and my body ached from fighting. Sadly enough, I had no idea who this woman was, all I knew was she was booed up in a corner with Robert when we walked into Brooklyn Moon. I opened the window and heard the ice cream truck making its way down my block. I was tempted to run down the stairs and get me a cone but was too achy. I felt dehydrated, so I made my way to my kitchen.
When I walked into the kitchen, it was obvious that I brought some of that anger home with me. It looked like I had a fight with my kitchen. The week old bouquet of roses, which was his attempt to get back in my good graces, after I caught him with a woman, two weeks prior, were now on the floor, with the broken vase in a puddle of water. The roses lay on the floor, as dead as our relationship. I looked at my window and beneath the windowsill, laid my once mounted wine rack, and the wine bottles were at the base of the stove, thankfully unbroken. I had way too much Tequila last night. What was I thinking?! Ugh…I should had never let my boy Starrtender convince me to try his new concoction, when I stopped by Milk River. He sure knows how to make a drink. He is so darn heavy handed with his drinks though. Sigh! I surveyed my kitchen and was in shock as to the condition. I began cleaning up but was stopped suddenly by a glass that suddenly pierced my foot. Now I have to deal with a cut under my feet and blood staining my floor.
After I cleaned up the kitchen, I hobbled my now bandage foot into my living room. When I walked into my living room, I saw my home girl Naadira, passed out on my carpet, fully dressed and her “ruby woo” lips, nicely smeared on my cream color carpet. I yelled in the highest octave “Naadira, Get UP!!!” She did not budge. I walked over and nudged her with my feet. “Naadira. Get up babe!” She opened her eyes, like this was the first time she saw the light of day. I was a prick, so I walked over to my drapes and pulled them back, letting in all the BRIGHT sunlight. She sucked her teeth, like a true Trini-woman and cussed me in under her breath, in her Trinidadian jargon.
“Michelle, where’s Paula?” I told her that last I remember, her man escorted her out of the lounge. She told me to check on her to make sure. When I called Paula, she seemed pissed. She began by scolding me about her disappointment in my actions last night. I tried to interrupt and defend myself but she shut me down each time. “Michelle, you are too grown for this kind of behavior. What were you thinking?! We are in our 40’s, you looked like an immature child unable to control herself. Fighting over a man that can’t keep his ding-a-ling in his pants. Stop making excuses for his actions and own the fact that you are taking crumbs from someone unable to give you more.” I was silent and took it all in because everything she said was true. I played myself and made a fool out of myself.
I’ve been with Rob for two years, and caught him cheating four times. The first time was with his second child’s mother. The times after were with women he met at the lounge he owns in BedStuy. I resented him for opening the business. I wanted to partner with him and he told me, that privilege was reserved for his wife. Those words pierced like a knife but I had no fight in me at the time. Although it was my $40,000, he needed in order to get his business up and running. His credit was so crappy so I did like what any good woman would do and gave him the money. I thought I was being a good woman but in actuality, I was foolish for prematurely giving money to someone not willing to give me his last name.
The times I caught Rob fooling around, was not by chance, I had help. One of the security guards that likes me would always send me pics of Rob in action with the caption, “Boys will be boys. When are you going to get with a real man?!” Whenever he sent me these text, I would rush to the lounge but as I got to the door, the other security guard would act like he forgot who I was. I learned that he did that in order to give Rob a heads up that I was there. He would have me wait at the door and go inside and obviously warn my man. By the time I walked in, most of the time, in sneakers, spandex, and a t-shirt, he would have cleaned up his act. I didn’t realize then how crazy I looked walking in there looking crazy, sometimes with my hair pulled back, only thing missing is vaseline on my face.
On May 25th, the disloyal guard wasn’t at the door. My insider was working the door that night and let me in with no issues. I walked in like a hound dog, searching every corner for my cheating behind man. Finally I spotted him, caught in the darkest part of the lounge, kissing on this female I knew from the beauty salon in Clinton Hills. She knew he had a girl but could care less. It turns out that I use to date her baby father, who I wound up cutting off. The vicious cycle is a bit more complex than you’d imagine. I broke up with her baby father to be with Rob, and he broke up with her to be with me. YES, karma is a biatch!!
That night I ran up on them, she saw me coming ahead of time. She got up and positioned herself ready to defend herself. Something within me told me to rush them, so I began running towards them. As I got within arms reach, she swung at me. I ducked, caught her with a right hook to the jaw. Her cheap, .99 cent gold hoop earrings, flew across the room and her head cocked to the right. I went to hit her again but she caught me in the stomach, guess I have to pay better attention in boxing class with my trainer Nay-Shaun. He always tells me that I have a strong jab but I am poor with blocking hits. Well, when I went to kick her, Rob grabbed me by the waist, threw me on his shoulder and hauled me towards the door. I kicked and fought, calling out all kinds of obscene words to her. She stood on the platform of the seated area, smirking at me and blowing kisses. I was so heated but there was nothing I could do as the six security guards held my arms and legs until I was outside of the lounge.
When we got outside, Rob hailed a taxi, gave the driver $30, and told me he’d see me in the morning. When I got in, I sent him a text so he knew I was safe. It was so odd but he was extremely calm. Not once did he look me in the eye, I could feel his embarrassment, shock, and anger. He arrived at 5 am, slammed the door and walked into the room, seemingly ready to argue. What happened next was something he had never done before. He dragged me out of the bed and pulled me into the living room. The living room was facing the back of the building and no one could hear my screams if he did anything to me there. It’s apparent that he was drunk and was not in his right mind. I screamed as loud as I could but no one came to my rescue. For the next ten times, though it felt like an hour; he beat me. I don’t mean the kind of beating that your parents give you. No, this beating was violent, it was laced with venom and his target was me.
After he grew tired of pounding my face and body with hits, he walked into the bathroom. As I laid on the floor, bleeding from my nose and mouth, all I could do was pray that he would not come back to beat on me some more. Moments later, I heard the shower running. I cried, screamed, but no one was there to hear my plea. At this point, my vision was blurry. I could not see through my black eye. Once he was done with his shower, he went in the room and began watching TV. Not once did he come back to check on me. He left me there on the floor, like a piece of garbage. I must have dozed off for three hours because once I awoke the clock, which was now on the floor, said 8am. The phone ringing was what stirred my slumber. I was sore, weak, and therefore; could not move. I listened for the caller-id to indicate who was calling me this early. I heard it blurt out, “Angela Bryan”, my mother was calling. I tried desperately to crawl as quick as possible to my desk. However, before I could answer, I heard Rob answer the phone in the bedroom, “Good morning! Hi Ms. Bryan! Yes, she’s good. No, she’s in the shower. I will have her call you as soon as she gets out. No problem. Have a great day beautiful!”. He hung up the phone, walked in the living room and said, “…”
Stayed tuned to Part II. Please follow this page for immediate updates on posts.
The wait is over, now is the time to purchase your tickets to the next “Would I Date Me” event. The event will be held on Saturday, May 16th at Pearl Studios. Don’t miss out on the early bird ticket sale and don’t miss out on this AWESOME event.
See you there.
Purchase your tickets here: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/would-i-date-me-series-spring-cleaning-relationship-edition-tickets-16537166109
If there was one question you would ask the opposite sex, what would it be? Here are a few that came up in planning this event:
Do you believe in the institution of marriage? Would you stay with your mate if they cheated on you? Would you marry someone who had BAD credit? Do you want children? How long do you wait before intercourse? Does courting still exist?
Let’s skip all the questions and get to the meat and potatoes.
On a chilly Saturday afternoon, January 17th, to be exact. A group of about fifty people, age ranging from 20- 50’s, gathered to discuss some of these topics; keeping it 100. The event took place at Bed-Vyne Brew, one of Bedford Stuyvesant’s hot spots. The room was electric and filled with some sophisticated, spunky, and charismatic personalities. One in particular was radio personality, Humble Prince. He tried to take a more tamed approached but he brought his snarky and ginormous personality. He made a few new friends but a few frenemies were created as well. However, he didn’t mind, as he is accustomed to ruffling feathers wherever he goes.
He brought along a friend, who had never heard of “Courting”, which was the first topic of discussion. As, Pierre described, “I’ve spent 39 years dating and have not much to show from it. If I had known more about this ‘Courting’, maybe I would be married with kids now. But…today, I learned something new. Courting is going to be my NEW approach going forward. chuckles”
The topic was, “Does courting still exist?” and most people in the room felt it was a thing of the past. Others felt that it was hard to decipher the difference between “dating” and “courting”. There is a significant difference. As Dennis described, “I dated, then courted my wife. Dating comes before courtship. You have to date the person before you know if you want to court the person. Courting is the step before commitment and in most cases it should lead to marriage. I was not going to court someone that I couldn’t see myself settling down with. I must admit in the beginning my wife resisted me courting her. However, with time, she was able to see that I was in it for the long haul. Once she knew my love for her was real, the rest is history. We have been happily married for 3 years now. Women need to stop saying that ‘courting is a thing of the past’ maybe they need to learn the difference so they can decipher the two.”
The room digested what Dennis said but the next topic was going to be equally interesting. Mr. Prosperity Unlimited, CEO, Kevin Ferere got the room buzzing. The second topic was, “Women who hustle relationships” because they are in fear of being alone. They settle for ordinary, instead of extraordinary because their 1.) biological clocks are running out, 2.) Fear of being alone so they settle for anyone that will have them. 3.) They don’t really love the guy but he can financially support them. These women tend to get into relationships for all the wrong reasons. The room was in an uproar. The majority felt that Kevin’s analysis was incorrect. In fact, most women do want to be in a loving relationship and did not appreciate his subtle accusation that they settle just because they want to hustle a relationship.
There were many women who stood up to challenge Kevin, but two in particular left him (slightly) speechless. Let’s just say, the men in the room, were happy they didn’t have to tackle this one; Kevin was on an island by his lonesome. One of the ladies, Maria, shared about her story and her marriage. Maria summed it up by saying, “It’s not that we women settle, we have to find what works for us. First, we need to accept that there is no such thing as a PERFECT man. Secondly, you have to find out what you can work with and what are deal breakers. Last but not least, don’t choose your mate because on paper it makes sense. If you want to marry for money, you will find yourself in a lonely and empty marriage; which is no marriage at all. I married my husband because he was my best friend and he truly loved me. When I thought of someone I could see myself spending the rest of my life with; his name was what resonated. I was in no race to beat my biological clock. Though I wanted a child, I knew that finding the right mate took precedence. My husband and I have been married for going on seven years. We are proud parents of a two year old daughter. He is an amazing father but most importantly; a wonderful husband!”
Then came round II from Karen, a.k.a Ms. Mack.
Lawd have his mercy!!! Karen was the “Firecracker” of the event. Oooo chile….she didn’t hold back and we were happy she didn’t. As you could just imagine, she was not going to be gentle with Kevin. It’s cool because Kevin could handle it. However, he didn’t realize she was going for the jugular. Ouch!!! Yea…Kevin really wasn’t ready. She stated, “I think the issue is with the men. Most men, think all women want them for is money, sex, and companionship. Honestly speaking, I’ve been married and now that I am single. I learned valuable lessons about myself and what I want, and need, in a mate. I was a young bride and now that I am older and wiser, I am in no rush to shack up with just ANYBODY. No matter how much you make, how fine you look, or how well endowed your manhood; real talk! I will not settle for less than I deserve. Even if I might feel my biological is ticking…it’s better to be single than miserable and in a dead-end relationship. So, I am not sure where you are meeting THESE DESPERATE WOMEN but you won’t find ‘A woman hustling a relationship’ over here.”
As you could imagine; she smoked the microphone and then we moved on to topic #3.
Topic #3 “Is being faithful Hard? If not, then would you be ok with giving your significant other your password to your social media accounts?”
Let’s just say, the room was in a ruckus. No one, I mean, NO one was in agreement to give out their passwords. Even the one gentleman that said, it was not hard to be faithful, “depending on the individual” was not in agreement to give his mate his passwords. I understood what he meant but some of the ladies felt otherwise.
Zerlena called him on what she felt was “B.S.” about it being easy to be faithful. She believes that it is a learned behavior to be monogamous. Trust me, she didn’t care if you agreed with her statement. In fact, she broke it down and said, “We walk around in New York City, where there are beautiful people left and right. I am tempted everyday. Being faithful is a LEARNED BEHAVIOR. It does not come easy and for you to say that it is easy to be faithful. Well, that is just pure ‘Bullshit’!”
Free came on the scene to back up the brother but, honestly, Zerlena said her peace and-that was all she wrote! Free agreed that it is not easy to be faithful. However, he mentioned, “For men, we think about sex every thirty seconds. Therefore, it is much, much harder for a man to be faithful because we think with our manhood. We are visual so we can see a woman and entertain sexual thoughts and not even touch the woman. Real talk!”
Thanks for sharing that crucial information Free…but every 30 seconds. That’s deep bruh!
There were a lot of high points to the evening. For example, we had a comedienne in the house. The lovely Tanisha shared about men who don’t keep it real. Men who lie and say, “My mom lives with me”, when in fact, they live with their mothers. These men, still sleep in their full size bed, with superhero sheets and stuffed animals on their bed. Quite possibly, still have magazine clipping on their wall, as “Throwback” wallpaper. She had the room cracking up. At least five of the women in the room, can relate to this kind of man. Honestly, it’s better to keep it 100, then fronting to make yourself look like you are more than you really are. Word of advice to the fellas, stop lying to yourself.
A special thanks to Dhylles “The Coaching Cupid” for sharing her story and the exercise. At the end of the event, she instructed us to close our eyes, listen to our hearts beat and our breathing. By doing this, we are cherishing our life and each moment we have here on earth. It was a great exercise and a beautiful way to end a wonderful event.
A special thanks to my awesome Chef and amazing friend Naadira Muhammad (a.k.a Trop) for catering the event. Everyone who dined with Trop, were thankful for your superb culinary skills. We are still talking about the menu you created.
Thank you to the team that makes the dream work; Ciuella, Techla, Dhylles, and Alisa. I would not have been able to have such a smooth and effortless event, had it not been for your assistance. I love you all and appreciate you for holding me down.
Techla and Khemeka B…
Alisa and Khemeka B…
>>All photos on this post were provided by Mr. Greg Frogg, of Froggin Flicks>>
Follow him on Instagram & Facebook: Froggin Flicks
Mello Evron, CEO of Full Blossom Magazine
Pascale Duthel, Pascale Duthel Photography
Thanks to all my guest who attended the “Conversations with Khemeka B: Would I Date Me Series” on Saturday, January 17th. You all made this a successful and wonderful event.
Stay tuned for the next event in March 2015.
Be sure to follow my website http://www.khemekab.com for updates on the next event.
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Monica Writes: I met this guy and he’s really attractive, successful, educated, drama free with great credit. The problem I have is, he has a flatulence problem. He passes gas all the time and doesn’t say “Excuse Me”. I want to bring it up but fear he might think I am being anal. However, I was raised to always say “Excuse Me” when you pass gas. Not to mention, go in another room if you need to break wind. He will pass gas (very loud) and not even blink. I find this to be so ODD. I want to suggest that he go and get checked out by a gastroenterologist. Seriously, this is such a deal breaker and a turn off. My friends say I am tripping because there is no such thing as a “Perfect” man. I am not asking for a perfect man, just one that isn’t so gassy.
Am I overreacting? Should I continue to see him or stop dating Mr, Gassy?
Please help Me Khemeka B!!!
What do you all think she should do?
“Would I Date Me Series”
I didn’t grow up in a household where monogamy was demanded. As a matter of fact, my mother knew all of the woman my father was cheated on her with. Two in particular were closer than expected. One of the women was my aunt and the other her best friend from grade school. My mother never showed raw emotions when it came to my father’s infidelity. She continued to take care of me and my siblings and made sure we did our chores, and kept up with our studies. We had helpers that cooked and cleaned the home but we were responsible for doing dishes and cleaning our rooms. I guess, it was a way to teach us that, though we were fortunate, we still need to learn discipline and responsibility.
There were many nights he would stay away, most times, he’d call to check in and tell her to not wait up. On those nights, she still made sure the house mate left his plate on the table. They were instructed to not remove the plate until morning, fear he show up and his dinner not be waiting for him. She was scared of my father because he was verbally and physically abusive. My father would pinch, punch, kick, slap and push my mother into columns in the house. Surprisingly, she never fought back. It was surreal; she took every beating as if she deserved it.
My father was a heavy Scotch drinker and most would say, he was a functioning alcoholic. To my mother, he was stressed from all the headache that comes with providing for your family and being a successful business man. My mother Adijat, was no slouch. She was an intelligent and beautiful woman with a body of a goddess. She obtained her PhD at age 40, and taught classes at the top University in Nigeria. As smart as she was, it perplexed me that she never mustered up the strength to leave my father. I recall the night I came home to witness my father sitting at the dinner table with my mother, siblings, and my aunt; my fathers mistress. My mother sat there….
Stay tuned for the full story on Friday, October 10th.
Interview with Ms. Rochelle Johnson, CEO of Six Twelve Magazine
He told me that he wanted to be friends, nothing too serious, just kick it for a bit. I gladly obliged because I told myself that I wasn’t ready to be in anything complicated. We decided to meet up at Red Rooster in Harlem for some drinks. We met up and talked and shortly after decided to head downstairs to Ms. Ginny’s Supper Club. This man is the type of guy that can charm the panties off of you. He oozed sex appeal from his well groomed face, his built body, his tailored suit, and intoxicating fragrance. I was being bewitched by his swag with no protest. I played it cool, not giving him any indication that he had me. Sporadically he would check his phone and excuse himself to take phone calls. In fact, at one point, he left me for more than thirty minutes. If he weren’t so fine, I would have left his rude behind at the restaurant but I overlooked his un-gentleman like behavior. When he returned to the table, he ordered another round of cocktails before we agreed to head back to his loft in Tribeca. The angel on my left shoulder said, “Take your behind home. You know this is going to result in you having regrets in the morning.” On the other hand, the devil on my right shoulder said, “Girl you deserve to get your needs met, look at his lips, they look like they can work magic.”
We jumped in his Benz, parked outside of the restaurant and drove to his sanctuary. When I walked into his place, I took off my shoes and suddenly my body was lifted in mid-air. He hoisted me upon his shoulders and began to inhale my scent, as though he were sniffing a freshly picked rose. My head tilted back in gratification as I waited for his next move. When he carried me into his room, the candles and music took my mind and body to a far away enchantment. I was held captive until he had his way with every inch of my pulsating body. We made music with our bodies until my pelvic bone ached. His lips searched my body, until he discovered the way to make my vocals tremble. I closed my eyes when he went deep into my sea and dived slow and steady. This moment lasted as long as my climax would allow. When it was over, we spooned and dozed off in each others arms.
The morning after
I awoke to a sexy man in his birthday suit with his legs wrapped around me. I snuck out of the bed, as quiet as possible. I decided it wasn’t necessary to awake him and opt for leaving a note on his nightstand. In my mind, I had to leave quickly, last night was too good and I did not want to start catching feelings. Besides, men do it to woman all the time. They are the ones that can have sex and refrain from getting emotionally attached. I felt guilty for leaving that way but shrugged it off immediately. I reminded myself that I didn’t owe him an explanation, this is not meant to be complicated; it’s meant to be casual sex. He called me and was obviously very upset. Thought he did not ask why I left without saying goodbye, I knew he was angry. I ignored his little attitude and offered to take him to dinner the following day.
As the months went on, we became inseparable. The closer we became, the more I saw a future for us. I found myself falling deeply for him and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. However, after six months of dating, I ended it. I realized that I had not fully healed from my last relationship. It was unfair to string him along and act as though I were ready for this committed relationship. When he was ready, mentally I was not. It was so hard for me to escape the unhealthy thoughts that constantly plagued my mind. The hardest part was letting him go. Frankly speaking, he wasn’t the issue, my broken heart was. I allowed myself to be courted and pursued, even though, I knew I was not ready. I was selfish because although I was not ready for a relationship, I feared another woman having him. I had allowed things to get complicated.
Relationships are not for the faint of heart. To take on the responsibility of someone else heart and emotions is a HUGE responsibility. You have to put in what you want to get out. Before you say you want to be someone’s WOMAN or MAN. You first need to do an assessment of your heart and mind. Personally, when it was time for me to walk away from that relationship, it was the best decision I could have made. It felt great to be brutally honest with myself and stop people pleasing. It is unacceptable to toy with people’s emotions. It took me breaking someone’s heart to learn about my immaturity. Now that I am in a committed relationship, it feels completely different. This time around, I was ready for my man because I gave myself time to heal and work on me. He is now able to get 100% of me, not a fraction. Individuals have to give their hearts time to heal before bringing people into your life. If your wounds from a past relationship are still fresh, don’t get caught up in a relationship.
It would be unfair for your mate to feel as if, they have to constantly be compared to your ex. In fact, if you are still constantly bringing up your ex, maybe, just maybe, you are not completely over them. Never run into a new relationship before you are fully over the previous one. No one deserves to be a REBOUND. Ask yourself this question, how would you feel if you knew someone was using you as a rebound? Would that make you feel secure? Would you feel special? Exactly, you would feel used and hurt. My partner had his share of heartache but he does not crucify me for his former mate transgressions. We are building and forging a healthy and meaningful relationship. The bond that we are creating, nothing and no one can and will come between us; unless we allow them to.
So, when you look at the woman in the picture above, think of strength, endurance, maturity, determination, and contentment. It takes a strong woman to admit her faults and a stronger man to get her to follow his lead.