Why Do I Have to Think Like a Man? (16 page)

The next day, however, we passed each other in separate cars. He was leaving the house and I was headed toward the house. He pulled up next to me in his car and we both rolled down our windows. He then said he had decided he didn’t want to go to the concert after all. “I just don’t want to go with you,” he said. I remember feeling so sad and lonely. We were in a relationship but there was no affection, quality time, or love. While I didn’t realize the magnitude of the deterioration of myself or my relationship, I just knew something was terribly wrong and that we had a huge disconnect.

Months passed and I decided to do some things for myself. I decided to get into better physical shape. I’ve always exercised or at least had periods of my life when I would jog, go to the gym, and start a nutritious health plan. But this time was a little different. I knew I needed to do this to feel better inside and to look better outside. I always knew that being physically fit helped me feel better almost instantly. Jogging in the park, with my music in my ears, was always such a peaceful and motivating time. It gave me time alone to think, to cry, and to imagine without being interrupted by the kids, the phone, or men.

I also made an appointment for a consultation to get a tummy tuck with a well-known, board-certified, cosmetic surgeon in the Atlanta area. Yes, ladies, a tummy tuck! I figured it was time for me to have a drastic makeover. I went to my consultation, set everything up, and began working out while I awaited my surgery date. Almost two months went by, and I believe I lost ten pounds (not very much, but it was something), and it helped.

Just prior to my surgery, I noticed my husband kept getting calls from a woman he worked with at his part-time job. One day, I picked up the phone to return the call while he sat on the edge of the bed getting dressed. How is it that people who have professed to love us our entire lives can become so mean and cold toward us? I never figured that out. His face contorted and changed all kinds of ways while I dialed the number. He began yelling, “She is just a coworker. Why are you calling her?” Then he said, “You ain’t shit; you’re always f*cking up stuff.” I called anyway. Not to cuss, scream, or challenge her, but to talk and find out why she kept calling, and to see if I could locate the truth. She never answered. I left a message and asked her to call me back. She never called back. Lord only knows what they were doing or why he felt it necessary to scream at the top of his lungs about a call I was making to a “coworker.” I was, of course, troubled, hurt, fat, and miserable. Those days led up to my surgery and to the last days and months of our relationship (little did I know how close to the end we were). We still lived in the same house. And I still needed him to pick me up from the surgery center and help me make it through recovery.

I went into surgery and came out five hours later. My husband came to pick me up, and I was completely out of it. The drugs, the pain, the anesthesia, and the sheer magnitude of what I had just gone through had an enormous impact on me. I was out for the night. I was glad I did it, and I was excited about the change it was going to bring to my life. He was helpful but aloof. He did what was necessary to make sure I was okay, but there wasn’t any love in the room or even the house, for that matter. I suffered post-surgery pain unlike anything I’d felt before. I had many sleepless nights because of the pain. To top it off, different areas of my incision didn’t exactly heal like they were supposed to. But in time, with numerous follow-up visits and checkups, I eventually made it through.

The incision began to heal, but more importantly, so did my heart and spirit. Not because of the surgery so much, but because I began listening to and reading inspiring books, spiritual books, and praying a lot. I began to feel like I deserved better than a “so-so” situation and a “loveless” relationship. I also began to take an introspective look at myself. I began to ask myself questions like, “What are you doing?” “How did you let yourself go?” More importantly, “Why?” One of the most startling realizations I made was when I acknowledged my “loveless” relationship was not just with my husband, but also with myself.

As my body continued to heal, I slowly began to incorporate more exercise. I would get dressed with my support garments underneath my sweats, so that my wound would remain closed, and I began walking at the local park. First one mile, then one and a half (huffing and puffing along the way), then two, then two and a half, then three, and so on.

Eventually, after months of walking and walk-runs, I began jogging. At one point, I was up to five miles per day or every other day. It was exhilarating. My stomach still wasn’t the picture perfect stomach I wanted at that time, but I could see a vast improvement. The C-section scar was gone, and a whole lot of the stretch marks and wrinkles were gone, too, as was the pouch.

My stomach was still puffy and big as far as I was concerned, but aesthetically, it looked a whole lot better, and I felt better. I continued exercising, reading, and progressing along my journey toward healing inside and out. Eventually, I moved into an apartment with my children. Shortly after my months of working out and gradual healing, I went into the office wearing some nice fitted jeans and a cute top. My ex-husband and I owned a small business together and shared an office. He was reaching for me like he wanted to touch me. He said, “Damn, you look good.” I smiled and sat down. Then I gathered up the courage to ask him why he had been so distant over the past couple of years and why he never wanted to go out anymore. He hesitantly replied, “I just wasn’t attracted to you anymore. You were overweight and I didn’t want to be around you or touch you.” He went on to say, “I know that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.” Ladies, when I tell you I was stunned, I was stunned, speechless, and sick to my stomach. Here sat the guy who I virtually carried on my financial back during our marriage and post marriage; took on nice trips and vacations to the Bahamas, Las Vegas, and other places; helped to pay off his debt; and bought him nice gifts. This was the father of my children, mind you, who sat there and told me that the reason why he didn’t feel like he could go out with me or make love to me was because I was too heavy. Well, I’ll just be damned! How about that!

After I picked my lip up off the floor, I got up and walked out of the office. He, at this time, was all hugged up behind me, asking for some of my goodies. Imagine that? I left the office that day knowing two things for sure. I would always do whatever it took to keep my physical health intact and that loving myself would be my new priority. I also knew that I would set a different standard for what and whom I would allow in my life.

I was angry and surprised at first, but then I regrouped and tried to look at it from all angles. I began asking myself a number of questions. Was he right to treat me this way for letting myself go? Should he have said something earlier? Should I have noticed earlier? How did I allow him and his broke-down situation into my life before and after the divorce? Was I needy? Did I do it for the kids? Most importantly, I asked myself where I should go from here. Let the liberation and change begin. I thought, and so it did.

Ladies, if you marry or find your mate and you are a size six or eight and he has a size thirty-four or thirty-six waist, both should try to stay that size. Even as time goes by, you should do whatever it takes to stay sexy for your mate and healthy for yourself. I felt sorry for myself, and I thought his comments were mean and selfish. But truthfully, I wasn’t the beautiful, sexy, and passionate woman he had met years ago. I wasn’t healthy or attractive on the inside or the outside. That doesn’t mean you should subject yourself to mean comments or endure bad treatment, but try to maintain what is appealing to your man and to you.

Some of you may identify with my story, and others not. For those of you who do, I want you to know that I feel your pain. I also want you to know that although surgery was something I felt I needed and wanted to do to help me feel better about my body, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the remedy for you. You should also know that the surgery removed all of about five pounds from my stomach. The rest was up to me to lose through hard work, exercise, and eventually through changing my thinking and eating habits. These were by far the hardest weight obstacles to overcome, and I am still working through them. To date, I have lost about thirty-eight pounds and counting. I am still on my journey. I’m not on a diet but I’m participating in a lifestyle change. I now like myself well enough to at least do this for me.

I also practice daily spiritual guidance through books, podcasts, and meditations, thanks to Oprah’s Spirit Channel, Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, and many other authors of memoirs and inspirational books, like Elizabeth Gilbert’s
Eat, Pray, Love
(New York: Viking, 2006). It’s not a once-in-a-while thing. I work out five to six days a week, and I read or meditate daily. To make a very long story short, I had to make an assessment of everything. It was time for self-healing, and a new direction. Self-worth, self-love, and self-appreciation are the starting points to setting standards and limits on what’s acceptable in our lives with men.

Girlfriends, choose your own methods of healing and getting back your self-worth. Do and receive the things that bring you full circle, that give you joy and quiet time, whether that’s church, spiritual books, friendships, exercise, prayer, or meditation. But by all means, get to a point in your life where you begin to understand how incredible you are. Once you get there, or begin the arduous journey, good things will begin to manifest slowly but surely in your life and your standards for the men in your life will change. I must warn you, it might mean more nights alone, and the quantity of men may be drastically reduced, but the quality of people drawn to you will be better and you will be happier. I guarantee it.

Shanae

Although my mom and I agree on a lot of things, I will say that it is hard for me to get mad at a man for not being attracted to a woman when she’s out of shape. The reality is men are visual. So if you don’t take care of yourself, it’s hard for them to want to take care of you. That’s a tough statement, but it is real. Entering into a relationship of any kind is a big decision, believe it or not. Whether it’s a friendship or sexual relationship, emotions and trust must be part of that bond in order to make it work. Women and men are so different when it comes to what attracts us to a person of the opposite sex. Men are attracted to the physical and women to the emotional. Women are also a little more complicated than men. Men seem to have so many more options than women. As such, women seem to think they have to settle for whatever man is interested in them. Women, this is completely false. Yet, we have done this to ourselves. For so long we have not known or understood our true self-worth and potential.

How many women do you know who got married, had kids, and their bodies changed? The baddest chick in the world is never going to be the same after giving birth to a child. It’s like having a bad car accident—you can get a whole new exterior done to fix the damage, but when you drive it, you’re still going to hear a strange noise that wasn’t there before. You can minimize the effect by eating right and working out, but your body will never be the same.

Now, how many men do you know who hate the fact that their wives are not built the same as they were when they got married? I know plenty that complain about their wives’ bodies, the way they dress now, and so on. They feel that they have the right to cheat because their wives are no longer the women that they married. Most men would agree that women put themselves in a compromising position when they get out of shape. Okay, I’ll go for that, but let’s turn the tables for a minute. What if we married a man with money, a good job, savings, stability, and the promise of a great life and he goes
broke
? Is it our right to leave because he is not the same person or in the same financial position that he was when we met?

Don’t be misled, men are attracted to the physical, but that doesn’t mean he is going to marry you just because you’re in shape or because you’re pretty. Women are attracted to the thought of
security
. Women like knowing that if a bill needs to be paid, he is going to find a way to make that happen if something needs to be fixed, he can grab a tool box and get it done, or at least grab the phone and call someone who can fix it. Women also need to feel like a lady, which requires a real man.

For the men who are reading this, I am not saying that if something is broke and a woman can fix it without injury that we shouldn’t, or that we should be 100 percent dependent on a man. That’s not what I’m saying at all. What I am saying is that women need to know that you are their strength and that you can and will be everything they need. Why do you think that when a man buys a woman a nice purse, pays a bill, or the sex is off the chain, the first thing she does is tell her friends? It’s to say, “Look, my man takes care of me. My man is a provider.” Women thrive on the opportunity to brag on their men. Similarly, when a man is dating a fine woman, he wants all his friends to meet her. He is saying, “Look, I’m the man, I got a bad chick on my arm.” Ladies, how you feel about yourself is a direct reflection of the man you choose to allow in your space. Let me give you an example. I have been told, more than once, that I am my biggest critic. I expect the world from myself. If I can give birth to three children, nurse all of them, and get back into shape after gaining forty pounds per child, why should I date a man who looks like he drinks lard through a straw? Let me help you out—I shouldn’t! If a man doesn’t care enough to take care of the only body that he’s going to get, how is he going to take care of you?

If after having been married to an NFL player and living the good life, I could leave that man with nothing but some furniture, a prayer, and a dream to make something better of myself, certainly, I shouldn’t settle for mediocrity. The man who wants to be in my life should have the same drive, will, discipline, and self-motivation to make a great life for his family and himself. I expect greatness from myself, from head to toe. From my pedicure to my relationship with God, I do everything to the best of my ability. The same applies to my man (I guess that’s why I am single); settling is not an option. Don’t get me wrong—I will have fun with guys that don’t qualify; I just know that they won’t ever be hubby. I do the same thing that guys do. I find out what position a man can play the best and line him up in that spot. There can only be one quarterback, so that person better have it all— smarts, agility, sexiness (that’s my rule), and the ability to make me follow his lead. But as we all know, a great quarterback is the most sought-after person on the field, so you always need to have a backup, just in case he decides to resign and sign with another team, you’ll be prepared.