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Memoirs of Fuckin With Mr. Right

As a 30-something year old woman, I feel honored to be a guest contributor for such a progressive site as In The 10th.

With all of that bullshit out-of-the-way I can freely open my heart and say, “I found Mr. Right but I’m fucked up!” As an African-American woman who is multi-degreed, graduated from a HBCU, and a member of a prestigious sorority, I got issues. No longer the stereotypical issues of “I have all these accolades and no man to come home too” but more like “Ok, Mr. Right fell into my lap and I can’t get my shit together.” I can honestly say that after experiencing terrible date after date (from one date ending in being sexually assaulted to the other being stiffed with the check). Then let’s not forget the “Cut Buddy” chapters in which the weed-smoking, several baby mamas guy comes through when I get lonely and leaves immediately after. All to bring me to the point in which I abandon my “Ol Dirty Bastard” and choose “Bill Huxtable”….but how does this begin to work? How do you begin to accept a high level of normalcy, healthy dialogue from a gentleman on a consistent basis when all you’ve known is text messages and small talks from the “ain’t shit motherfuckers?!”

I’m going through detox every day that I’m with this Mr. Right because he’s challenging me to be better and dig deep to speak life to these old bones. Detoxing myself of negative banter, heavy marijuana use, eliminating “cut buddy sexual” performances through intimate moments are all issues without an exit plan. Each day that I spend with Mr. Right, I have to learn that IG, FB and reality TV  shouldn’t have my full attention anymore because he should. Being with Mr. Right is teaching me that I’ve got to grow up and save me from myself. No matter how holistic of a place my friends and family come from, some things can only be achieved through Mr. Right.

Courtship with Mr. Right, I was not prepared for because I made a commitment to loving through dysfunction. When the dysfunction was removed…I found I had no legs to stand on. Committing to do the work and begin healing with Mr. Right feels fucked up, but I no longer want to exist as a fuck up. Please tell me what I should do to keep Mr Right!!!

Sincerely,

Ms. TryingToMakeItRight




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