It has been incredibly difficult to keep up with TV shows the way I used to. With work getting incredibly busy, and this business of learning about the nuances of getting published, I only just got on the Power train. Quick spoiler alert for those who watch the show. For the uninitiated, Power is a
silly TV show about a drug dealer, Ghost, who runs a night club. One night, Ghost is in his club and he sees his ex-girlfriend from high school (Secondary school – for those who like to remind us our audience is Nigerian.) 18 years later, Angela’s body is smoking hot; Ghost is a rich, sexy ass, club owner. They meet up for drinks; and then, some more. (Na from clap dance dey start) Of course old feelings are raised when they start staring into each other’s eyes and all that senrenren they do on TV. Oh, by the way, Angela has a boyfriend. Ghost is married… with THREE kids.
Of course she, like you and I, saw happily ever after. Until Ghost dropped the three children and wife news.
Yeah… fairy tales only happen in Disney!
This is my problem with dating! I have this inexplicable fear of getting into the dating pool. The whole dance routine of getting to know each other, trying to trust – while remembering the last liar you were with, trying to figure out what this person’s intentions are. Is it just sex or is there more? Is that person his sister or someone he’s talking to? Why does he keep looking at his phone? Am I not giving him enough attention? Does he like me like that, like that? Am I giving off an aloof vibe? Does he see that I’m just trying not to freak him out? Is he really single? As in single, single, single!
It is emotionally and mentally exhausting and makes me wish I was around during the days when parents just sorted this matrimonial unions. But then, I rue the thought of my mother finding a suitable mate for me. Perish the thought. Perish it.
She tried it with my sister and gosh, that didn’t end well. Let me quickly tell y’all about it. (Gosh, this feels like fun. Reminds me of Atoke, Pre-MA Creative Writing! )
Okay, so there was this couple who are friends with my parents. They’ve been friends since the 70s! Even better because they’re from Ogbomosho. So they used to do this whole “Egbon mi, Aburo mi” (My relative) thing. Anyway, this family had a son who had been in the U.S forever and he was finally coming home – to the joy and excitement of his parents. Between the parents and my mother, (my father doesn’t partake in all of this nonsense!) they decided that it would be a terrific idea to join their American son, to my English sister.
She asked for my opinion. How great would it be if we became one big family with the XYZs?
“Mum, this is NOT a good idea and will not end well!”
Of course, she didn’t listen to me, so I decided I wasn’t going to be miss the drama of the day they were going to surreptitiously bring the American guy to our house – to coincide with my sister’s visit. Lamenting about how the day didn’t go according to plan, my mother kept insisting on the fact that the guy’s parents were good people (and from Ogbomosho too!)
“Between you and the XYZ family, how do you people know this guy doesn’t have someone in America? Did he tell you people he’s looking for a girlfriend to transition to a wife?”
“I was hoping they could at least be friends, and take it from there!” Neither American guy, nor English girl had any interest in helping their parents transition from ‘friends’ to ‘family.’ Thankfully, the awkwardness that ensued later fizzled out because 30 plus years of friendship is no small feat!
But, on a serious note, how did my mother really expect that there’d be a single person over 30 years of age without some form of emotional baggage or the other? Maybe they exist.. but it is this fear of being the second fiddle that terrifies me about dating. In cases where the person even tells you the truth, how do you deal with the truth that has been given to you. You’ll meet someone, start the process of getting to know them, and find out that they’re ‘talking to’ someone else on the other side of the globe. It’s worse when they try to assure you that on the scale of 1 to Most Talked To, you’re the one they tell their truest and realest feelings. There’s the temptation for you to get sucked in.
In Power, Sexy Latina Angela had already entered the vortex of attraction before they told her to “Hol’ up, Hol’ up!” Where there’s no full disclosure, you have to go fishing for the information yourself; and you don’t want to end up looking like a psychotic individual. Or maybe you do.
On Friday, I was strolling through the streets of Linkedin, when I saw a notification that my friend just added a tall glass of chocolate delight as a connect. Coming on the heels of the Charlotte Proudman/ Alexander Carter-Silk fiasco, it didn’t feel right to send a message saying, “Hello, you lean delightful looking individual in a black suit.” So, I did some *clears throat* research into this fellow. Thankfully, he has a lot of footprint all over the Internet. However, two things eluded me: his relationship status and his age.
In fact, people need to start declaring their relationship statuses on their profiles now. Nobody wants to start falling in like, only to discover that there’s someone else in the picture.
I mean, how’s a girl supposed to know what she’s walking into? The whole process of getting to know a person and declaring facts about each other seems so long and tedious. Even when they declare to you, how do you know it’s the truth? Even worse, there are different stages of relationships. There’s dating – two nights a week. There’s “we’re seeing how it goes.” There’s “we’re just talking.” There’s “I have his baby but we’re not together”.
In all of this, there’s the innocent girl who just want to meet an unencumbered, well spoken, STD-Free, intelligent, straight young man. Is this really too much to ask? Is it?? Is it???
Peace, love and celery sticks!
Because we all need LOVE
Photo Credit: Dreamstime | Rocketclips, Inc.