I Don't Need Him

           From the moment I had my first boyfriend, I have never known what made a boy like me. My attitude, throwing fits, and fighting my brothers made my mom start calling me Evil Ann. I have never put up with any bull shit!

          I have always been a hard pill to swallow. I have never been an extremely prissy woman. I will put on a great front but the moment I seem to open my mouth, I totally give myself away. I am rough around the edges to be more frank. This being the case, when I was a girl, I often fantasized about what my husband would be like.

         I imagined him tall and handsome. His smile would be perfect because mine isn't. His eyes, well they had to sparkle. I may have even imagined he would be a prince in disguise like from the movie 'Coming to America.' He would wisk me away and rescue me from my problems. However, I knew that I would never be weak and stupid for a man at an early age. I never ever intended on putting up with a mans crap. One thing was always on my mind. If I have to put up with crap, he can hit the pavement! Clear and simple 'Baby, I don't need a Man!'

          During my teen years it became a more developed fantasy. Still tall and handsome because I was a tall glass of water. So height requirements developed for the ride. He had to give me the world without question and worship the ground I walked on. He had to do what I told him and if he didn't then I wouldn't tolerate him. I was young and ignorantly fantasizing about a fan and an assistant. Certainly not a man. Unbeknownst to what an actual relationship needed to thrive, I labeled these things as my preferences. All the while oblivious and naive to realistic expectations.

          I did not fantasize about the actual wedding itself. I am weird like that. I was raised by a single parent. Just when I thought I could think about a wedding, a new idea formed and thoughts about a wedding faded away. Perhaps deep down inside I thought I would never get married. I had heard people say no one would desire me in that way. Perhaps I bought into that at an early age.

          By the time I entered full fledge womanhood, I took a hard look in the mirror and realized that it was probably going to be difficult to find a man that would love me and the baggage of flaws I carried with me everywhere. He would have to be like a key, I thought because I am a lock. He would need to figure out a way to open me up. I had an abundance of love and positive energy to release into the world, but the truth is I did not know how to tap into it. I couldn’t even access it. This man would be hand crafted by God to deal with my bull crap and my particularly aggressive form of tough love.

          As a younger woman I mistakenly thought he would fit perfectly into my fantasies. That was a general problem of mine. I fantasized all too much about perfection and what perfection would look like in my life. Yet, I wasn't perfect.

          First off, the twenty first century woman that I am burdened with being constructed multiple false ideologies of relationships in general, and of a man’s role in a relationship. Men and women generally think of all types of ways to alienate ourselves from one another.

          I was on a hiatus from relationships when I met my husband. I had finally removed the veil from my eyes from a past relationship that convinced me that I didn't deserve love. I took ownership of my mind and body. Finally, I began to accept and love myself. I recognized all that I had to offer; saw the joy and freedom that came with being a single woman with options. That gave me strength and confidence. With that confidence I abandoned the desire for a relationship. Naturally, I was on my worst behavior.

          I even tried to friend zone my husband at one point, until I was chastised by a mutual friend of ours. He heard me speaking about being interested in an entirely different guy. So he checked me.

          "Ericka, you know my boy really likes you." He insisted this with his brows furrowed together. He had pulled me to the side so that the other women couldn't and wouldn't ruin him as his friends wing man.

          "Well, we text and stuff but I can't tell. He just seems like he wants to be friends. He has ALOT of girl friends. What makes him serious about me?" I questioned.

          The truth was that I just couldn't tell by all his friends if he was serious about me or not. I wasn't willing to fall in love with a man who would fall in love with one of his friends. Especially since I was enjoying being single. Knowing myself to love hard and knowing my level of loyalty, past bruises blinded me to this man. Sometimes falling on your face too many times can prevent you from falling at all.

          "Well he has a lot of friends because he is a good person. I'm not joking, he is a good dude. He is one of the good guys. So don't play my man. Give him a chance for real."

          I finally took a closer look at him. He was a man that was familiar in all positive ways. He drank his coffee black with one sugar. That was so familiar. He read the news paper every day and was a perfect gentleman. I felt like we had met once, but we certainly had not. Slowly, by having no expectations of this man, I started to see all the things I never knew that I needed in him. He turned out to be far from perfect. So was I. Growing together in a relationship like ours prohibits anyone from walking away unscathed. We decided one day, after years of trying to play with each other’s mind; years of involving others in our on again/off again relationship where we played with each other’s emotions; years of battling each other for the upper hand in our relationship; finally we decided to let go and give in to each other.

          We gave in to each other’s demands, started to respect each other’s views and feelings, and it changed my life. I opened up and I allowed him to see the woman I really was. The exterior I hid behind was a façade. I thought he would run for the hills because I am a mess.  But he did not run. He kissed me, held me if I cried, and honored me. Now I am his wife. I had to learn that love is a choice. I learned it is not the notion: I don't need a man, I don't have to deal with him and his bull crap. Rather: the choice is if I truly love this man, I will deal with his bull crap because he puts up with mine. Loving someone forever includes falling in love with their faults and acknowledging your own.