Monthly Archives: March 2018

Oh, I forgot to tell you- I’m married (Part 2: the conclusion)


So there I was in the bathroom of my former job, looking at myself in the mirror. With tears rolling down my face, body temperature running high, feeling enraged, and defeated all at the same time.

In my mind I thought, why me? Why did he choose me to be the one to reach out to? I’m sure there are plenty of women that would have happily played the role as side chick. He could have set up an Ashley Madison account and had his cake and eaten it too. So, why did he decide to do the complete opposite route? Why did he go after a single, romantic girl, like me- only to fill my head with lies and then leave me with the hurt? The unfortunate truth is, I will never know. After a while I splashed some water on my face, walked out the bathroom and went back to work. There was nothing I could do but to continue on my journey for romantic love.

I started talking to C_Tinder in the summer of 2017. He was a cute Puerto Rican, from Brooklyn. We spoke for about a week via the app then eventually we exchanged contacts. We would text throughout the day and some nights. At the time I was talking to multiple men so my focus wasn’t quite drilled into noticing the times and/or frequency of our communication, only thing I remember was that it was decently consistent. One Sunday in the summer, we happened to be talking a lot. I was downtown in Soho shopping and he mentioned that he worked not too far from where I was. So I figured, take a chance and see if he wanted to meet, so I texted him. I wasn’t quite expecting a yes; but I was hopeful, that if he really wanted to, he would meet me. I popped into Vosges, on Spring Street (which I just found out, as I write this post is closed- MY HEART JUST BROKE AGAIN!) to grab some chocolates and wait for an answer. After about 20 minutes and no response, it was clear he didn’t want to meet. I ate my chocolate and was on my way. I didn’t think about him again for weeks.

Then guess whom I get a text message from… C_Tinder. A casual ‘hey how you been?’ as if nothing happened. With a glance at my phone and a roll of my eyes I ignored the first text. An hour later he texts me again, ‘Hey-I really miss talking to you, I’d like to meet up’. I replied that I was in Jamaica and he’d have to wait until I got back to New York to discuss anything. We continued to text daily while I was away. It was easy conversations: about work, travel, food, and he gave me tons of compliments on my body and how sexy I was (much eye-rolling was done on my end as I have heard it all before from talking to men online). A compliment is nice, but after a while it gets annoying as fuck and it becomes a turn off especially since it’s very superficial.

 Upon my return we agreed to meet up the following week. So back in New York we’re texting regularly again and the conversation begins go from G to PG-13. By now I had posted all my vacation photos on IG and I had no problem sharing them. My friend (shout out to Melissa) took some bomb images of me; it was safe to say, I was feeling myself. My weave was looking right, my bathing suit was highlighting my #melanin and the angles were on point. So of course I updated my online profile with the images, and of course he saw them. The compliments on my complexion, thickness, smooth looking skin continued to pour out like a broken faucet. He mentioned how if I was his girl how he’d love to see me cooking in some lingerie when he got home (this has always been a secret fantasy of mine by the way) so I eagerly engaged in this verbal fantasy exchange. Naturally you can assume the conversation leads to insatiable fantasy sex… blah, blah, blah. This exchange goes on for about another week until I begin to get annoyed.

So are we meeting or not? I ask him, flat out.

He says yes- lets meet this weekend – Game On!

The next day I text him and I don’t get a response, which was weird. So not wanting to waste my time any further. I do what I probably should have done a long time ago. I call his ass and he doesn’t answer. My reaction is to delete our text messages and I’m about to block his ass when I get a text back from him and to my surprise;

Its His Fucking Wife!

In just one text I was called a bitch, slut, hoe, home wrecker, anything that goes through your mind to degrade me… I was called it all. She also let me know that, not only was he married, that they also had a kid together.

Now, I could have gotten all ignorant and fed into the bullshit arguing back and forth with her but I put myself in her shoes. Many women, when they find out their man is cheating or acting horribly they attack the woman. I never understand why, because as we all know men (and women) lie; but they always do. So I decided to show her my receipts. I explained that I started talking to him online, his profile said he was single, and to prove it, I screenshot his profile page and sent it to her as proof that he was a dog. She thanked me and I didn’t hear from her again.

A week later I got a text from an unknown number ‘hey, wassup’. I’m still talking to men online so I had to confirm whom it was and I couldn’t believe that his ass had the nerve, the audacity, and the unmitigated gall to actually text me again. Like seriously! – I thought I was being punked (Where’s Ashton Kutcher?), but it was in fact his ass, again. Acting like nothing was wrong. Now, whether or not his wife confronted him that day I will never know but it blew my mind how he could be so fucked up. So I called him out.

“Tell your wife I said, hi” Of course, he denied it and said I was mistaken and that he wasn’t married. At that point I didn’t care if he was married, single, or dead. I was done with him. I told him to go to hell and lose my number, and then I blocked that number.

For the record- It is messy cheaters like V_OKC & C_Tinder that lead to this phenomenon of a messy side chick. Like I said before; there are many women in the world that will contently have affairs with married men. They sleep with married men knowing their place is: in the bedroom, the hotel room, her apartment, and on weekends while the wife is out of town. She knows that her name Paula is stored under Paul and she knows to text only at certain hours, and most importantly they know that they will never replace the wife. They know that his affections, intimacy, romance is on borrowed time. They know that he will never leave his wife.

But these messy cheaters, these scum of the earth men- they fill women’s heads with lies, they fill us with the hope that our search for love and our happy ending is near. They make us believe we have finally found someone nice, caring and worthy. And then they drop the bomb, when they finally confess or we find out that it was all a hoax.

Can you really blame a chick for acting crazy at that point? Her head and her heart were just fucked with royally and she’s just supposed to walk away? Michelle Obama said, “When they go low-we go high” and as much as I love we some FLOTUS Obama, I have to kindly disagree.

Nah fam! He’s not getting off that easy!

I will choose to blow up his spot! Not a little bit but all the way up (Fat Joe voice)!

  1. Call his phone at the most inconvenient times.
  2. Screenshot the conversations and his profile page
  3. Send the evidence at all hours of the day and night.
  4. And go to sleep- like a newborn baby!

I will do this, not because I want him to leave her and be with me. No- I don’t want a messy cheater! I will do this because he has to hurt too. His woman has to have an insurmountable amount of proof that he can’t lie, fuck and/or buy his way out of. She needs to know the man she has at home, he has to be exposed, punished, and he has to feel some kind of hurt. The fear of God has to be put in him and then maybe, just maybe he’ll know to never-ever fuck with another woman’s head and/or heart again.

Oh, I fogot to tell you- I’m married. (Part 1)


For the life of me I may never understand or comprehend men or women that get married and decide to have an affair. For the purpose of this story, let me further clarify what I mean.

  1. The “Honest” cheater: The men that openly wear their wedding ring and cheat with women that simply don’t care that they are married.
  2. The “Same Time Next Year” cheater: The men that engage in affairs with married women. (Same Time Next Year is a movie about two married individuals that meet up at the same time every year to have an affair over the course of 20-30 years- a very good movie and a must watch)
  3. The “Whoops!” cheater: The men that truly slip up and fall into another woman’s vagina.

I’m talking about the “Messy” cheater: The men that set up online profiles, with a single status, and relationship goals listed as; dating, long term, and marriage. This cheater is the scum of the earth cheater. This cheater should have his balls cut off and put into a meat grinder. This cheater I have met on two different occasions, that I am now sure of, and this post is all about my encounter with The “Messy” Cheater.

I first started talking to V_OKC in the beginning of 2016. He messaged me one day and we spoke on and off for about a week or two. We finally exchanged numbers and made a plan to meet up on Sunday afternoon for coffee. He texted me to say he wanted to reschedule, which was fine as I had just finished a long run and just wanted to stay home and relax. We said we would reschedule sometime in the near future – this never happened but the blame is on both he and I.

Almost 6 months later he contacts me again on OKC. I just ended a “dating-ship” with another gentleman so I wasn’t in the best of spirits. When he messaged me I was more blunt that I would have been, had I never spoke to him before. I was in the “no time for games mentality – come correct or don’t come at all”. He explained that he had lost his phone and my contact etc. So myself, being optimistic and attracted to him, decided to give it another try. We spoke for about a week via text and on the phone, morning, noon, night, essentially all the time. In my mind I’m thinking; could this actually result in a positive ending? He worked in building management, lived on the upper east side, in his mid 30s, no kid, and down with the swirl. We agreed to meet for cupcakes on a Sunday afternoon; I met him at Two Little Red Hens. He was already there waiting for me and when I walked in I knew him immediately. He was gorgeous! Nice skin, clean shave, and short hair, deep brown eyes, and nice lips. He got up to give me a hug and his arms were just the right amount of muscles for his body. He got on line with me and purchased my cupcake (chocolate blackout) and latte and we sat back down.

We talked about everything: education, politics, differences in our cultures, (he’s from Albania), food, music, and the time flied by. I was so happy to finally be on a date with someone I was physically attracted to and that didn’t scoff at a $5 latte. He had a career, no kids, we had similarities, and he lived near me- how much better could it get? We sat there for what might have been 4-5 hours talking, it was dark out and the place was closing so we walked to his car. We got in and sat and talked some more. He asked if he could kiss me and even though I said yes, my mind was thinking what took you so long? The kiss was perfect: hot and passionate, just like I like a kiss to be. We stayed in his car kissing for almost an hour and then we realized it was almost midnight, so he drove me home and kissed me as I exited. The next morning conversation went the same as before. Good morning texts, afternoon texts, evening calls all lengthy and in depth. We spoke about past relationships, dating, friends, hobbies, and ideal relationship goals, sex, and fantasies. Nothing in our conversations and exchanges gave me any red flags; this went on for about another two weeks. Then suddenly I stopped hearing from him.

Now, you should know this about me; some women think their man or a guy they’re seeing is always cheating on them. If he doesn’t answer his phone or a text or is 5 minutes late he’s with another woman. My mind does not work that way. I know that both men and women cheat but they are not all cheaters. So when I didn’t hear from him I honestly thought, like last time, he lost his phone or as with other previous experiences, he lost interest. But I gave it a few days because I really like this guy and I wanted to give the fantasies in my head time to become a reality.

The fantasy of us cuddling and kissing on the couch, the one where we’re walking down the street from dinner, the one where we’re both exhausted from passionate love making and in each other’s embrace. It all could have been a reality if I just have faith. But I grew impatient and gave him a call.

To my surprise, he answered. I don’t give him more than 30 seconds before I dug in. “Why haven’t I heard from you? What happened? We had a good first date and talk for weeks then you disappear- what’s your issue?”                                                                      There was a pause – and then his reply came.                                                                               “I know- I do like you and I want to keep getting to know you. But I forgot to tell you I’m married”


In that moment, standing in the all white bathroom of my former job, I saw nothing but red. Had he told me in person, I might have punched him, very hard, in the face. He tried to smooth it over by saying again that; he really liked me and even worse, still wanted to get to know me… HOW SWAY?? I told him to lose my number and forget he ever met me.

Now some of you might say it was a blessing that I didn’t do anything with him or whatever. But the damage was already done. I am one of those females that, depending on the vibes I receive, my emotions will grow. I start to visualize a near future; first romantic dates, then intimacy, then a romantic relationship. The problem with that is, when the reality hits me that all the romantic possibilities I hoped for will never become a reality that fantasy world comes crashing down and with it some of my heart.

Part 2 Next Week



So, here we are, post #3. With full disclosure, I’d like to warn all my readers that from here on out do not be alarmed by what you read. I started this blog to get my honest feelings off of my chest and if there were others out there, dealing with my same and/or similar issues, to let them know that they are not alone. Going forward I will not beat around the bush with my language. Many of my readers are close friends, and I would like for any new readers to become extended friends. With that being said; allow me to reintroduce myself; my name is Carolyn and my dating life has been a mess. Over the years I have collected pages of material and I figured I should share them on a greater platform. I hope you enjoy, continue to read, follow, and share with all of your friends.

 BM_TDR messaged me one day. We had been speaking via text after we matched, on and off, for about one month. One random summer afternoon, (I’m going to say July or August) he got off work early he asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink. Against my better judgment (as I had a workout class scheduled at 7:30pm that evening) I agreed. He met me at the bar by my former job Printer’s Alley on 40th Street in Manhattan. We got a table, each had a drink, and he had a burger (he offered me food, but I wasn’t hungry) we shared a few laughs, talked about our jobs, and hobbies, he paid the bill and that was the end of the date. I missed my class, but overall the date went well. We left the restaurant and started to walk to the train. We walked to the Bryant park train station where he took his train (didn’t offer to walk me to mine – mental note: point deduction) and parted ways. When he got home he texted that he had a good time. This was good, as I enjoyed my time with him as well. He later texted that next time I should come by his place and hang out.

Now, in full disclosure I was not looking for a boyfriend but I did like this BM_TDR: he had a good job, liked to travel, had no kids, didn’t smoke, in essence, he very good on paper so I didn’t want to move to fast. I declined the offer saying that a second date at his house would be too soon. Naturally, he tried to dissuade my argument but I didn’t budge. Eventually the conversation began to dwindle and we stopped talking. I continued to scour the Internet in the hopes to find another decent man, possibly one with more patience… long story short – I didn’t find him.

A few weeks after I came back from my vacation in Jamaica, I received a message from BM_TDR. It was of course a dick-pic. Keep in mind, we had not spoken in a week or two and we only went on that one date. What led to this escalation of events? However, it was a beautiful image, and I hadn’t had good sex in a while, so I thought to myself – we’re both consenting adults, we did have good chemistry, he’s safe, do what you want– so I went with it.

We agreed to meet a Friday evening, after work and my regularly scheduled zumba class with my mom I rushed home to shower and head out to his house in South Side Jamaica, Queens. I hopped on the M15 bus, took the Q train, transferred and took an uber to his house.

The chemistry was on point; we kissed, cuddled, and joked it was an eventful evening and the sex was very-very good, my insatiableness was finally matched. In the morning we talked for a bit more. I further found out he was heavy into video games, liked riding bikes, and like every black kid in the hood-dabbled in rapping. I hopped in the shower dressed and headed back home. Overall the night went well, I didn’t have to adjust my life too much and left satisfied- great right… Wrong!

I didn’t want to pay for an uber back to the train and I figured, I have no plans so just take the bus to the train. That ride, which was 5 minutes in an uber at night, was 45 minutes by bus in the day. I talked to my friend on the bus ride. She was in the city with one of our guy friends and we made plans for brunch. The ride on the train was even worse. I fell asleep forgetting that on weekends, the trains run local- the horror! The ride that was 45 minutes in the evening was 2 hours on the weekend. I wanted to kiss the ground when I finally reached the city.

The guy and I continued to make plans but none ever succeeded. I was not willing to miss my zumba class to meet him earlier and by the time I would get to his house, he’d be tired as he worked early in the morning, and I refused to travel for tired dick. He would often send me “good morning beautiful” texts and ask when we’ll see and/or hang with each other again. I was essentially in limbo to make a decision.

A few months went by and by this time it was October. I was at the Barclays with my family seeing The Nightmare Before Christmas live. I get the “hey beautiful” text from him asking again when we would hang. At this point I kind of needed to know even though I already knew, but needed to hear/read the words what was his intention. Did he only want sex or was there an opportunity for something more. There were a few minutes that passed before he responded but when he did; it concluded what I had already knew “Just Sex”. Even though I was already certain that would be his answer, a very small part of me hoped that he might say with time maybe more. But with his answer, my responding decision was made much easier.

I live in Spanish Harlem in Manhattan and he lives in South Side Jamaica, Queens. Neither he nor I drive and I still (even though I am drastically trying to change it) live with my parents, which leaves his place or hotels. It took me just one ride back from his place to realize that the commute was not worth it. To and from by mass transit is a 3-4 hours commute. That is 3-4 hours of my life that I will never get back. Even via ubers both ways will still be 1-2 hours of my life that I will never get back.

If there were hope of a companionship or a relationship coming out of it, then maybe my decision would have been different. But when he made it clear he only wanted me for sex, it was clear to me he lived too far.

In previous instances I would tiptoe around the answer by saying, I’m focusing one me, or I need time alone, or even lie and say I found someone else, but this situation gave me the courage to speak the truth and sometimes the truth hurts. “I just don’t want to travel that far for sex. “You’re good but not that good and I wish you all the best” was the last message I sent to him and then I blocked him.

What I learned from this situation was; do not talk to someone who lives in South Side Jamaica, Queens- unless they have a car because that is simply TOO FAR FOR RICHARD (DICK)

KEY:BM_Tinder: B-Race, M-First letter of name, TDR- Tinder

Dick is a nickname for Richard (if you didn’t already know)

Make Dating Great Again!


“Make Dating Great Again!” A play on the phrase coined by the 45th man elected into the White House. The phrase “Make America Great Again” was simple and catchy. For his supporters it did exactly what it was meant to do. However, when asked to clarify a time when, America was great, we on the opposing side can always prove that even during the most prosperous eras, America was never great for everyone involved.

However, when it comes to the topic of dating, it appears there was a time that we can reflect back to; before the word date became commonplace, there was courting.

The significance in the man’s act of courting was to prove himself worthy of his future bride’s hand in marriage. Urban literature and legend paints a glorious picture of long walks in the park holding hands, sitting on the porch drinking lemonade, maybe even stealing a kiss or two. All of these sweet gestures would last months, sometimes years- all leading up to the man asking her father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. If the father approved, he would then ask his future bride and she would often say yes. They would then plan a wedding and be married in spring or fall. The wedding night would be a mixture of excitement, fear, sexual frustration and often over within the hour.

Fast forward to today. I, like many women living in New York City, am single. I was with my last ex for over a year and the ex before him, we were together for almost two years. After my last break up, I figured I wanted to take some time for myself. It was early spring: I was training for my first marathon, I had just got a new job and I didn’t want any distractions. Things were finally falling into place, I was getting healthy with my running, I was spending more time with my friends and family, I was happy at work, and I was genuinely happy being alone.

Then as the temperature started to drop, and the leaves started to turn, the bitter feeling of loneliness started to spread. So, like any girl in her twenties, I did what most women do, I turned online dating. (Just to be clear; I was not new to this. I had been online dating since before it was called such. I was in AOL chat-rooms with a screen-name that I still use for my emails to this day. The majority of my long-term relationships were initiated online, including the last two.) So, when I re-opened my account I figured it wouldn’t be so hard to find a man that would be interested in dating me: I’m smart, cute, very caring, have a nice personality, and a nice body. With all those credentials and more I figured that I would have a handsome suitor in no time; and in the very least, a nice guy that could eventually grow into a friend or companion.

Boy! Was I in for a rude awakening?

I started with the apps I was already familiar with: Badoo and OKCupid. They were the two that I had the most luck with, so I figured they would be a good place to start. Immediately it was a disaster. A steady stream of men with nothing to offer: men with no jobs, no plans, and no goals, with baby mama drama or just plain unattractive.

Now, I know that beauty comes from within; but that shit does not work when it comes to online dating. If I meet you at work: I get to know your personality, you can woo me with your kind words, and even though you can look like a gorilla attacked your face, there’s a chance that I could look beyond the physical and see the person inside. But, if I’m swiping through profile pictures that are: grainy, from when you were 14 (rocking braids and oversized clothing), you clearly look like you miss jail, your teeth are jacked up, and you look like a baboon attacked your face- you have no chance.

In finance you never want to put all your eggs in one basket, you always should diversify your funds so in the hope to better enhance my odds I decided to expand my dating apps: Bumble, Tinder, Coffee Meets Bagel, Black People Meet, and Black White Interracial Dating (yes- I am down with the swirl). There were a few promising men (I’ll discuss what happened with those in later posts) but to my dismay I still was unable to land a suitable, long-lasting, candidate.

It became abundantly clear to me, about a year in, that; during the years I was in my relationships, the dating world had dramatically and drastically changed, and the rules I once knew and had success with no longer applied.

No longer were people discussing likes and/or dislikes, they were discussing positions. No longer was the 4 pictures on my profile enough, men often asked for more “body pics” or “something sexy” at which point, I knew where this conversation was headed so I just blocked them at that point. I was now in a world where so many people were so openly having sex at such a rapid rate, even I was shocked. (Now, my friends that know me well know that I was and still am a very sexual being. So for me to be alarmed at the rate in which things were happening was shocking to them.) I’m not talking about the; meet at the bar, have a few drinks, and come back to my place for sex, sex (that’s the spontaneous sex- the sex that I’m sure most people engage in). What I’m talking about the; G conversation to X, to receiving an unrequested dick pic sent, want to smash or not sex. (So you don’t even want to meet me and make sure you like my personality before you try to sex, sex- This was new territory for me).

Long gone were the days of talking on the phone for a few days or weeks, then meeting for a coffee or dinner and seeing if the chemistry is the same in person, then trying to get the person into bed. There’s no longer finesse, flirtation, or effort. The only effort invested is to search through the phone to find the right dick pic and hit send. At first I wondered if it was only I, and as I started to vent to my friends, some single and also online dating, they expressed the same dilemmas I was dealing with.

What happened to the days of dating? Had they all disappeared?

All that I had once known was being replaced by a superficial conversation, often lasting less than 24-hours – Why?

Is it because both men and women are horny bastards? Is it because we are living in a culture that’s oversaturated with sexuality? Or is it because some people just want sex without commitment? The answer to all those questions are yes.

I am well aware that both man and woman do not always want to be in a relationship. Some people, and often time way more people than we would like to acknowledge, to our own surprise, just want safe sex with a reliable companion.

This sexual companionship has often been labeled as ‘friends with benefits’ but in the sake of being honest. In my past FWB, as I am older and able to accurately analyze the situation, the “F” was never there. We were just benefits, because we never did anything together besides have great sex. So just to make it clear, if this sounds like your situation: you get a call or text, he/she arrives or leaves to meet you, you talk for a bit then get to business, then he/she is on his/her way- you are NOT a FWB, you are in fact, in a ‘fuck-sationship’ – nothing more, nothing less.

The men that crossed my path during the years did not want a relationship; they wanted to have sex and “see where things go” (which was code for a fuck-sationship). As the days, weeks, months, and years ticked by and I continued to: left-swipe, block, delete, curse out; my hopes of finding, at this point, any man worthy of my time dramatically dwindled. Every time I was actually able to engage in conversation with a man that met my initial criteria, there was often a hidden agenda and it would happen again, again, and again. So I really wonder what happened to the romance of dating? Is it lost forever or is this just a 3-year period of bad timing? I’m still holding onto the hope that something will change and the act of dating will once again be great. I miss long phone calls, and good morning texts, and having butterflies before a first date and the anticipation of a text or call after the first date. I’ll continue to have faith that the universe will, one day soon, Make Dating Great Again.