Why Do I Have to Think Like a Man? (15 page)

Over the years, I have had the privilege of meeting some really amazing people, and my friend Mark is one such person. Our paths crossed at such an integral time in my life.

I remember walking backstage and seeing him. Our initial meeting was back in 1997, after his concert in Fresno when I was only eighteen, and he kicked me out because I was too young. Little did I know that our paths would cross again.

When we met again, Mark asked me how old I was now, and I told him I was twenty-seven. He told me I was all grown up now, and we both chuckled and nodded in agreement. As I mentioned earlier, we exchanged numbers and stayed in contact with each other over the next few months.

One December, I flew to Sacramento to watch him perform. A few of my girlfriends went with me. After the concert, he invited us to drive to San Francisco with him because he had a show there the next evening. My girls declined, so I went alone. Mark and I talked the entire ride to the Bay. He was a perfect gentleman. By the time we arrived at the hotel, it was two o’clock in the morning. I knew he was exhausted after working all day and then driving to the next gig, yet he stayed up with me and kept me company. We watched
New Jack City
until four o’clock when we fell asleep. He didn’t try any funny business (to my surprise).

The following morning I had an eight o’clock meeting in Sacramento. At six, the alarm clock rang. Mark got up with me and made sure that the limo was there to pick me up and take me where I needed to go. It was freezing in San Francisco when I left, so Mark gave me his leather jacket and a small kiss on the cheek, and then he sent me on my way.

Several months had passed since my ex-husband and I had separated. He was living in California and the kids and I were still in Atlanta. He flew back home to visit the kids one weekend and saw the leather jacket Mark had given me in San Francisco. He said, “Whatever dude gave you this jacket is broke. Only a man that needs a loan would talk to you.” At that moment, I realized that he was talking to a different Shanae. I responded in a nice, soft voice with a smirk on my face, “Is that so? That’s Mark’s jacket. This is not the same Shanae you left. Do you think he needs a loan?” I asked. Cory looked stunned for a second. Then he pulled it together and said, “You brought another man’s jacket in my house?” (Hilarious!)

I can honestly say that over the next few months, Mark helped me become whole, and I love him for that. He was the first man who came into my life after a thirteen-year relationship. He was sweet and kind, and always said and did the right thing at the right time. The funny thing is that he didn’t even know it. During my darkest hours, God sent me light to help create the woman that I am today.

When you ask God for help, you never know who or what he will put in your life that will give you all that you are missing. The next couple of years were dedicated to finding and becoming a better me. Lo and behold, I am now the confident and humble woman that can write this book and say, “I’m better because of the good Lord above.”

In
A Course in Miracles,
Marianne Williamson (Lesson 193) says, “All things are lessons God would have me learn.” Whether you believe this or not, just look back over your life and ask yourself what lessons you learned during the challenging times and whether you grew from any of them. I walked away from my old life, with the knowledge that I would be moving forward with a new me, and that was okay. I sincerely believed the scripture that said,
“With God, all things are possible”
(Matthew 19:26, KJV), and was confident that all things would be replaced. I now live every day to the absolute fullest.

Everyone has had something happen in their life that caused them to grow into their more mature self. I have yet to figure it out, however, if most people notice their breakthrough moment when it happens, or if they figure out what happened at a later date. For me, I believe it was the latter. As Elizabeth Lesser said:

When we descend all the way down to the bottom of a loss, and dwell patiently, with an open heart, in the darkness and pain, we can bring back up with us the sweetness of life and the exhilaration of inner growth. When there is nothing left to lose, we find the true self—the self that is whole, the self that is enough, the self that no longer looks to others for definition, or completions, or anything but companionship on the journey (p. 56).

Like Lesser describes, this is where I was in life, waiting patiently for understanding and guidance, looking for a way out of the darkness of perpetual pain and into the light of hope and peace. If I recall correctly, this was the first time I truly realized I deserved better.

Once I experienced my breakthrough, I started making moves in a healthier direction. First, I had my attorney draw up divorce papers, and I personally handed them to Cory. Next I sought counseling, which is where I learned to forgive him and to forgive myself. I had to restart my life. I truly had to start over and figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Since I was a kid, I had done what my boyfriend/husband wanted me to do. As a result,

I didn’t finish my undergraduate degree from Fresno State that I had started years earlier. I did, however go to real estate school and got my real estate license. I always owned my own company, but if it required my leaving the house for too long or being around men, it was a problem. That was then.

Now I had an opportunity to make decisions where my husband’s career and opinions about what I should do didn’t come into play. I could do whatever I wanted. But what was that? What did I really want to do? I remember listening to the radio one day and Eddie Levert was talking about his music career. He talked about how he loved to sing and he would have performed for free. I thought, “Wow, that is amazing. What would I love to grow old doing?” Entertaining people in some way, shape, or form was the first thing that came to my mind, but I had to be the boss, too!

I thought I might be too old to start acting, but I could learn how to be a producer. This interest led me to California State University, Northridge, to pursue a Bachelor of Arts degree in Cinema and Television Arts. I accomplished this milestone in May 2010. Take a minute to ask yourself if you are doing what you want to do for the rest of your life. If the answer is yes, then keep doing it. If your answer is no, then find out what you really want to be and make it happen.

Don’t worry, if you’re doing what you love, the money will come.

Woman to Woman

Shanae

What are we really looking for? Are we getting it? Why do we stay when we are unhappy? Although some of the prior chapters may have come across as blunt or insensitive, I am simply trying to make a very clear point; we have to step up our game. I was watching a special on CNN a few days ago that asked why more men are reported as being happier than women. I laughed to myself and thought, “Well, let’s see? Men get married and will still have a girlfriend, if they see fit, while we tend to kids, stay inside, lose ourselves in our families while they often live as if still single. That may have something to do with it, hmmm.”

Male cheating statistics indicate that 70 percent of women are victims of adultery (
http://www.infidelityman.com/statistics-on-men-cheating.php
). Men still go out with their friends when they are in a relationship, while most women become permanent household fixtures. I have two girlfriends who entered into serious relationships as I was coming out of mine. Before they each had a man, we used to do girl weekends, go to the Essence Music Festival each year, and yearly one getaway trip just for the hell of it. It has been over three years since we have taken a trip together.

According to one of the guests on the CNN special, men tend to be healthier when they are married or in a stable relationship, whereas women tend to gain weight when they get a man. When a couple, with children, break up, the majority of the financial, emotional, and physical burden of the children falls on the mother. I wonder why men are happier?

Speaking woman to woman, we have to get past blaming each other and complaining about our failed marriages and bad relationships. We have to take a moment to evaluate where we are and how we got here. I have walked in both sets of shoes (married and single, broken and happy), and the one that feels the best is the pair I am wearing now. I know who I am—caring, gifted, and intelligent. I know my value now. I can see a red flag from a mile away. I understand that when things go astray we need someone to blame, but I think it’s time we start with the woman in the mirror.

Rhonda

I think most of us would like to be married or with someone we really enjoy, and in a relationship where each partner can thrive, laugh, and love without reservation. If you are lucky enough to have that already, hold onto it, cherish and nurture it. Strive to bring out the best in yourself and your mate. If you are not in a good relationship, love yourself enough to leave the situation. Know your worth. You must do better, want better, and ask for better.

I have left many situations—jobs, friendships, and men— after determining that my mental, spiritual, and physical health were being compromised. Today I have little patience for situations that aren’t good for me. It is not a race with a finish line. It is a journey toward enlightenment and improvement. The goal is self-growth and happiness.

I am so appreciative for lessons, special moments, spontaneous joy, time with good guys, friends, and family. In relationships, I listen more to what men say. I look them in the eye. I ask questions and I observe if their behavior matches. I give them the opportunity to be who they are and enough rope to hang themselves. The men in my life are of good character and have potential to be the “one”. I now date with my eyes and ears open, and with all my senses on alert. I am enjoying single-hood much more today than I did when I didn’t have direction. I have cleared the clutter and I am enjoying my life. Please read Maya Angelou’s poem entitled
Phenomenal Woman;
it is a monumental tribute to all of us, even with our perceived flaws, insecurities, and past mistakes. Let it remind you of who you are today and every day.

Chapter 13
Knowing Your Worth

Rhonda

I
f you don’t know your worth or you haven’t realized your value as a woman, human being, and child of God, then the people you allow to occupy your time and your mind will keep your world unsteady and your mind in turmoil. Furthermore, they are less likely to add any value to your life. I’m not talking just about monetary value. I’m talking about intangible values: friendship, laughter, genuine care and concern, generosity, useful information, and kindness. Watch for people who bring chaos, deceit, drama, a lowered self-esteem, disappointment, stress, and any other maladies. We have to get to know ourselves first before we can attempt to know someone else and then hand them a set of our rules and standards. We really must
know
that we are worthy. We are worthy of better choices in men, friends, lifestyle, and health.

As a young woman, I hadn’t a clue about whether I was beautiful or smart. I didn’t really know what I was going to be, where I was going, or what I was going to do when I got there. I had two children by age seventeen, and I was a single parent from eighteen to twenty-three and several times after that. I had no real understanding of womanhood or self-respect. I was a victim of sexual violations by men whom my mother allowed into our home and into our lives. I am the product of a single mother with six children and numerous broken relationships (with trifling men). My mother suffered from lack of direction and very low self-esteem.

My body has been overweight most of my life. In fact, from the sixth grade through adulthood, I suffered from weight issues. By my early twenties, I had several stretch marks from my tender, teenage skin being stretched as my stomach grew with each baby. I gained between thirty and fifty pounds during both pregnancies. The small pouch in my lower stomach (yes, that dreadful pouch that men talk about us having) soon followed.

Shame was my shadow, and my continuous companion. Self-esteem was nowhere to be found. I was unaware of what it meant to have expectations of men and I was too afraid to say anything or to ask for anything. I feared that if I asked for something, they may not stay around or want me. After all, I had this ugly body, these two small children, and no other perceived or real assets (or so I thought). So instead of asking anything of the men in my life, I was the woman who needed to let men and others know I could manage it all. I became “successful” at earning good money, buying nice things, and living well. I demonstrated that I was independent and strong and needed nothing from anyone. I would pay my own bills, buy my own gas, provide for my own children, and do everything myself. I might even pay
his
bills and buy
his
gas if he needed me to, just to show him I was nice and that I was there for him.

Later, I went through a marriage that lasted most of my adult life, and gave birth to two more children (one delivered by C-section). My body became even more scarred and disproportioned. My self-esteem was damaged even further, and my spirit seemed to be nonexistent. I was broken and I was in a broken marriage.

Then one day, I got a harsh wake-up call. There were many over the years, but this was the one that began the change for me. Late in my relationship with my ex-husband, I gained more weight than I realized. I was using the post-pregnancy weight excuse (you know, “this is baby fat, girl.” Even if the child is eight or nine years old, we’re still saying it’s baby fat). Anyway, I was well past that excuse this time. In fact, I think my son was already six or seven, and I had gained and lost weight over the years. At this point, though, I was weighing in at about two hundred thirty pounds on a 5'7" frame. In the midst of an unrealized and undiagnosed depressed, sad, and lonely state, I didn’t even see myself as overweight. Not until I saw pictures that were taken at various family events and my then husband began to say little things that really hurt. On so many occasions, I would ask him to take me somewhere, to a concert or out dancing, anywhere. Each and every time, he would say he was tired, or we didn’t have the money, or use some other excuse. During the last days of our marriage, I heard about a concert that was coming to Atlanta. The artist was Jonathan Butler, someone we both loved. I bought tickets to the concert and asked him to take me. I pleaded with him to take me on a date, and he finally said okay. I was happy for a day in great anticipation of our date.