The Mrs Club
Friday, May 16, 2008
To all the bad boys and the women who love them
So I want to share with you a line that I may use in my next book and I will give all credit to this badass chick when the time comes!
So I was talking to an old friend. We don't talk too often but when we do its a marathon session of truth, laughter and amens. We share anecdotes and coat our truths in slick humor and somehow it helps us deal. We don't agree on most things and her style is so far from mine but this chick is my sisterwoman, somehow, somehow.
So we were talking about relationships as we tend to do...we are both married but she has been at it for much longer than I. When talking about Nigerian relationships invariably infidelity comes up, na standard tori. So we were gisting about this chick who is always proclaiming how she and her hubby's love is sweeter than condensed milk (you know the kind in those small small tins - they always make me sick) and I was telling her how last time we all went out, one of the girls in our party noted that the hubby was checking out every chick in the place..."Aaah" my friend exclaimed "The guy is a junior bad boy!". What do you mean? I asked. Would a senior bad boy not look? "No" she said. "What he would do?" I asked eager to learn the rules of this game. "He would look at his wife and check out the babes from the reflection in her eyeballs!" and we both fell down laughing. We talked some more and what became clear was that my dear friend had once seen a lot in a relationship. Now this is not about her and her relationship. I always find it interesting and ridiculous when people say what they would and would not do in another woman's stilettos. Chick has made her choices and I respect her for owning them.
One of these days, I'll write about love, cheating and 40 to life, but this is about bad boys.
As she spoke, It was apparent that she had a great deal of respect for that bad boy as in he was baaad. I guess if you are going to be bad, be superbad. Tied into that emotion was a sense of respect for herself that she survived him. She said and I quote "once I survived that, I knew that I could face anything". I felt her on that.
I fell for a bad boy once. He was such a charmer. He was the literal manifestation of my fantasy for a man. Tall, handsome, slight British accent from boarding school, Yoruba edge but Ibo to the core. Well traveled and well spoken. I was more than ten years his junior and I was in awe. Naturally I fell in love and hard. It was a simple case of bad boy word equations. If chick is given x number of raps, combined with quality time, gifts and the illusion of a future, how quickly will she give her heart, because at a certain point it was not about the drawers. (hey, I tell it like it is)
I gave it freely and he shred it.
I never hated him afterward. Too much energy, but after the pain had dulled and I had healed, I started to get that I survived feeling too. I mean, I had tangled with a Bad boy and was here to tell the tale. I was now a bad chick.
But was I? I wanted to be hardened, to always tell myself that men aint sh*t, to treat them as bad as they would treat me, but that is and was not me. After a little while, surviving didn't feel like something to be proud of, but to be grateful for. The knowledge that I wasn't defined by this experience. That I could be myself always. I could acknowledge that this man had hurt me, but that I was strong enough to heal and believe in the power of true love again.
When I met my husband. I told him I had no interest in bad boys, I was looking for a man. One who had integrity and knew who he was and had no need to have his ego constantly fed by innocent or foolish hearts of women.
After almost six years of marriage, I can say I married a man, though like every human, he is still and always growing, as I am.
Years ago, I was opportune to meet my bad boy...and how the years tell on us. He was older, greyer and sadder because at his old age, he was still chasing skirts. So much for growing old and distinguished. He tittered (yes O, tittered) this over forty man as he told me how some chick was chasing him. I listened in silence. Thanking God that I had not been tethered to this narcissist. He sounded juvenile and ridiculous, trying to prove to me that he was bad.
"Uh, alrighty then, you take care" was my response, and suddenly I became aware of the quirk of fate. I was now the bad chick, because I had stood up for my values and been true to myself, because I saw something I hadn't seen before, discontent. He was unhappy somehow. Like a homeless man, trying to convince you that his cardboard box is better that a real home.
But I am rambling.
Suffice to say this. "Here to all the Bad boys and the women who love them" Hey we are all trying to figure out how to live in this complicated, crazy world.
Go on,buy my book!
The Mrs Club
Available at amazon.com
Posted by Naija Babe ::
10:43 PM ::
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