I'm A F*ckboy Too

July 05, 2016


I've been getting hella e-mails since I posted my Q+A (and I mean hella. My inbox was in the mid-hundreds..) One e-mail stuck out to me particularly. A (not-so-nice) reader mentioned I constantly talk about guys in a negative sense and what they've done to me, but never mention what I've done [as if I'm perfect]. Which isn't entirely false. Of course, I'm not perfect. But I decided to air out my own dirty laundry and talk about the time I was a dick... and then I was a dick again... (This is the soonest I've ever written about a situation.. This was very recent.)
When I was younger, I didn't give a damn about boys, dating, or relationships. At one point, my older sister thought I was a lesbian because I never spoke about boys other than Big Sean. I had my first couple kisses really young; both with girls, which further proved her point. I honestly don't think I knew if I liked boys at that time. I was just chillin'. Although, I think I started 'dating' early and had crushes here and there, it was never anything major. Boys were friends and enemies and nothing more. Between 6th and 7th grade, my "friends" all bugged me about how I'd never had a "real boyfriend" and eventually, I became the "ugly friend" since they were all in "relationships" (if that's what you wanna call having a boyfriend when you're eleven) and I was not. I really had no desire to be. Hell, I was still devastated my mom gave away all my toys.

When I was around 13, my "friends" were coming down on me hard about not dating guys who "liked" me. Why was it any of their business? I don't know. There were inbetweeners here and there, but I ended up getting into my first "real" relationship, which I recently learned was abusive. My "friends" loved him, though. Lil' white boy who thought he could push me around when he got frustrated. Real cute.

When I was 14/15, I got in the healthiest relationship I'd ever been in, even though he was nearly 3 years older than me, oops. Lasted two and a half years but got too serious for me. Then I briefly dated my fine ass ex, and the situation was just messy - but we still cool, so I'm not gonna get too into it. I realized I liked having a boyfriend, I was comfortable. I hadn't been single for longer than a minute in 4 years. I forgot how to be alone. So I dated and I dated and I dated...

I caught feelings easily, of course. And I got hurt a lot, of course. I met a guy who was ready to give me everything that I wanted, and I led him on and on and on. I wasn't feeling him like that. I really wanted to be friends, but I never told him that. Knowing damn well I still had feelings for a dude that had fucked me over. I "let him down easy" and continued to chase after that dude while collecting tinder niggas. Eventually, I dissociated feelings and dating. I just liked having someone around to makeout with and call me pretty. And tinder niggas to have text and phone conversations with (because the dude I had a thing for didn't like phone calls or something and I love phone calls.. like call me at 2 am, I don't care. I'll answer.) and call me pretty. (I like to be called pretty, okay.) But as soon as they wanted to meet, I would make 104 excuses and then drop/ghost on them. (Because I felt I had to be loyal to the dude I would makeout with?) Then I met a dude who, again, was ready to give me what I wanted earlier, a relationship. And this is where I was a huge dick.





I honestly liked this dude. I got comfortable around him almost immediately which is different for me. He fed me (and he fed me well; this wasn't no fast food fries shit) on our first date. (not that I have a problem with fast food fries, OPA is like my second home.) He was everything I wanted. [Y'all I love food.] But I had a hard time connecting with him on more than an "I like you" level. We spoke on the phone every night, texted or communicated in some way almost all day and he didn't even complain about how annoying I am or how my voice starts out high and then slowly gets deeper as the conversation goes on... None of that shit. The situation was great, but I was the problem. I kept trying to convince myself I liked him more than I did. He was my best friend; but in a non-romantic way. While I was over here trying to figure out what is wrong with me and convince myself, I didn't realize I was leading this boy on. I was overhearing his family occasionally refer to me as his girlfriend and I wasn't ready for that at all. I liked him, but I didn't want to date him [yet?].

I was sitting here feeling like that dude I had a thing for. I had completely dissociated feelings and dating and I couldn't get them to get a remarriage, no matter how hard I tried. And for some reason, I couldn't distance myself from him. I wanted to talk to him every night. I spent most of my day looking forward to those phone calls. All this was causing him to like me more and causing me to just be an even bigger dick. Eventually, I invited him out and acted like a huge bitch the whole night (why I did this, I don't know.) Just to call him up the next day and tell him I wasn't feeling it. Yeah, I'm a fuckboy.

But that isn't the worst of it because he forgave me after that. But I did some more unintentional fuckboy shit that caused him to (rightfully) drop me, but I don't think I can get into that because this post was hard enough to make in the first place. (I need to continue to follow my 3-month rule.)

So, there you have it, readers. I'm a fuckboy too.

Also, I've learned tonight I need to stop blogging about this shit unless I wanna be single forever; so this is the last of this dating/personal mess for a while.. Sorry, y'all we're scaring people away. Lemme talk about clothes, food & makeup, damn.


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