If I could afford it, I would have a therapist, but I have got my MPV...
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Gotta Tell You
In the cliché of life being short, confessions of attraction towards your crush hurt less...
...than keeping it inside. Hello, my single ladies! Beyoncé wave! How are you doing? It's getting nippy on this side of the hemisphere. And there I was thinking that I would stock up on my winter clothes. Oh, well!
It's story time! I know we love going through each page of 'Single Ladies, the Quest for Mr. Put-a-Ring-On-it', and receiving a few pearls of wisdom. As I write every post in this series, the book's theme changes. Remember the time that we wanted so badly to become "Mrs." Now, every article is about healing, self-love, and growth. In addition, mental health is of great value, and it's our prerogative. This isn't just my journey; it's our journey. I love this space because, on this platform, y'all are my girlfriends. We hang out with our glasses of wine to chat. We can refer to pop culture and even real-life examples of our own inspirations for love and life at large.
With a show of hands, who was a pre-teen or teen during the late 1990s and early 2000s? The era where we had several pop groups, velour tracksuits, guys braiding cornrows, and MTV was still cool. Taking inspiration from the title of today's blog, I received inspiration from Samantha Mumba's 'Gotta Tell You'. Anyone remember the pop songstress born to a Zambian father and Scottish mother? I recall the music video for 'Gotta Tell You', where Samantha Mumba wore a pink boob tube and blue denim hipsters. Her hair was braided, and she had what, at the time, we considered pretty cool choreography. On my playlist, 'Gotta Tell You' fell into the 'songs about crushes' category. In that same playlist, I had Jamelia's 'I Do', Atomic Kitten's 'Tide is High', Mandy Moore's 'Be With You', and LeAnn Rimes' 'Can't Fight the Moonlight', to name but a few. Oh yes, the coconut in me was crazy about British pop. I am pleasantly nostalgic about my youth, the simplicity, and my ability to interact without fear. Oh, well!
I have a confession (D'banj voice). I almost slid into Genesis' DM and texted, "Let's just have a baby together!" Erm, then Jiminy Cricket whispered into my ear, "Do you really want to do that?" Well, it's not like I never professed my enamoured position to him. Do you remember eleventh grade (Form 4), when I was dared to confess my crush? I wryly smile at the thought of the courage that I had to pluck up to tell Genesis that I love you for a long time!" And as I previously narrated that dismal confession, he turned me down, broke my heart, and I returned to the hostel with my tail in between my legs. So why was I contemplating round two of 'Gotta Tell You' in adulthood?
Genesis is a beautiful specimen of a man. His genetics would be great for my next offspring. He's good-looking, tall, and athletic. He's also a confident and sweet guy, accompanied by great likeability. Yes, if he were the last man on earth, I would save humanity with him. Genesis isn't the last guy I ever shot my shot at, though. So, remember QJ, my wonderful friend, who's supportive? Well, I also told him in a not-so-subtle way that I liked him. And he gently turned me down because,, according to him, I was too emotionally fragile. We are still friends, though hurt, I respect his honesty.
Yes, if he were the last man on earth, I would save humanity with him.
Turning back to 13-year-old me, I had a crush on this boy. I wrote him a letter that was sealed and covered with glitter glue. Alas, he liked me too, but we were different races, religions as well, so it was a bit complicated. Plus, his family moved. Darn it! Fast forward to two years ago. There are only two 'famous' Zimbabwean men whom I have as #MCM. The one with whom I missed my shot happens to be an actor who lives across the pond. I tagged him on my Instagram story while watching a movie that he starred in. He slid in my DMs. Oh my chwest. Hearts popped out of my eyes. But I failed to rise to the occasion of flirting with this eligible bachelor. Instead, I fanned out...for the why? Je ne sais pas!
I could list all the males whom I crushed on and professed my 'like' to. Some were wins; others took a huge "L." The beauty of this conversation is the liberation from pent-up feelings. When we are not in our heads, saying 'I like you' is fun and flirty. The idea is to have very low expectations of reciprocation. And oftentimes, the person that we are crushing on actually digs us as well. But we can get carried away with the whole don't chase a man theory. To top that, insecurities I will be the first to admit that with Genesis, I shrink back. I turn into that shy, insecure teenager who would imagine studying in France with her crush. Oh yes, Genesis and I were the 'good students' in our French class. Imagine him, me, the Eiffel Tower, "Voulez vous couchez avec moi, c'est soir?"I remember getting giddy with Summer Dream. In my head, I'm like, "Snap out of it; you are a grown woman. Why are you behaving juvenilely around this man? Just tell him that you feel his Aquarian energy and would like to dive into it. What's the worst that could happen that hasn't happened?
Right! Why do we get so wrapped up in our insecurities that we don't take a chance? How many times have we applied for something only to receive that "We regret to inform you" message? With le garçon de caramel, I didn't think much of it. I had a crush on this early twentysomething who reciprocated the flirtation. It was only for a moment, but it felt so good. When it fizzled out, I was over it. Some successful shots landed me dates. Through the process of knowing my crush(es), I would then realise that nothing would come to fruition. Look, I am very particular about my 'vagenda'. I can be flirty and laidback; however, I'm neither a dunce nor desperate. Still, it's fun to just roll off your tongue, 'I like you', and he says, "Thank God, I was scared of you rejecting me. You're out of my league." This is followed up by the 'askation' of the first date. Hell yeah!
Any regrets! Nah! In hindsight, when we tell our crushes that we like them, the only thing to lose is probably the ego, which doesn't really matter. We are too mature for passive-aggressive sublimation. Just say it: "I like you", "You are fine,", or "I won't tell" à la Fat Joe featuring J Holiday (and the throwback beat plays in the background)
What's the worst that could happen if I ignored Jiminy Cricket and DM Genesis? Let's leave it there.
As Samantha Mumba sang, "Don't wanna love you if you don't love me, Don't wanna need you if you won't need me too. I've got tell you this now, or it wouldn't be right.."
I'm not suggesting we become vulnerable with losers. Let's let our hair down, puff out those afros, put lipstick on, and say, "Hey, cutie", to that person who makes you feel alive...even for a while.
Crushes actually fizzle out because in all honesty they rarely amount to anything serious. Have fun...
And breathe because that doesn't hurt.
Until the next single ladies session...
Get your hair did, eyebrows on fleek, and click those heels.
MPV.....my point of view! Single Ladies: Wifen Material *Royal wave*Hey single ladies,your guide is back.The pursuit for Mr Put-A-Ring-On-It is on.Today I would like to make you a get-a-ring-on-it lady. Now following my articles,'Single Ladies Part 3',where I talked about the prince searching for a 'real princess',or 'Queen';and 'Brown Sugar',where the word 'brown sugar' was defined as wifen material,I would like to talk about 'wifey material'.(Whether we are that). How do we single ladies get that ring-on-it,you ask?By being wifey material.My uncle keeps on telling me,'If you want to become Mrs X,you should be a wife.You are a wife before he puts a ring on it'.What he means is that,a man will treat you the way you portray yourself.How,you ask? Ever noticed the difference between a wife and a girlfriend.Now let me break it down for you.A girlfriend usually,takes life in a more leisurely way;unlike a wife,whose focus is mo...
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Por qué me siento así, mi amor? Lo podemos culpar a Cupido! Bring on the tissues, and a tub of ice cream, and Amarula cream. Cupid really picked on me and not at the best time. And then 'Stupid Cupid' starts playing. Bonjour single ladies! Forgive me for the dramatic entrance, but I feel like a hopelessly enamoured teenager. Remember le garçon du chocolat ? Oui. Well, what started off as a crush, has developed into more. Could I be in-love? Umm... But I think that the sparks have fizzled out on his end. Throwing myself on the couch. Why am I this person, though? Am I setting myself up for possibly another heartbreak after recovering from a not so recent one? Like, le garçon du chocolat lives rent free in my mind, and mostly in my dreams. Am I supposed to feel like this actually? Gosh, I feel so embarrassed with my grown self. So while, I'm manoeuvring through my emotions, let's talk about starting all over again with a renewed perspective. Gather around ladies,...
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