Make That Move, Baby

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It happened between my Cafe Mocha and my morning newspaper. I was minding my own business. Doing my thing.

This was my morning ritual, but today was a little different.  It wasn’t your normal, run-of-the mill Tuesday. Now I want to first establish that I’m not easily impressed, but this vision was too beautiful to ignore. As he passed me, his locks smelled the perfect combination of fresh berries and Kush. His smile could light up even the darkest of rooms. His presence was magnetic and confident, with a hint of humbleness. His posture, strong and upright with no weakness in sight.

My eyes were fixated on him as he walked into the coffeehouse. I am one who believes in Divine time and that there is no such thing as coincidence.  So if this is my belief system, he and I were supposed to be there, on that particular day, and at that particular hour, right? From the moment I saw him I watched his every move. I studied him like a Chess player studies the board, and strategizes his next move.  Hey, I’m not some awe struck teenager, and it’s not all about looks either. There is a certain amount of silent communication that I pride myself on observing, on a regular basis.

As I sipped on my coffee, and enjoyed the visual, I thought of how to approach this black man. Or should I even go there? You all know that I’m a bit old fashioned, and for the record, don’t make it a habit to approach men. In my head I practiced the words and the greeting I would use. I went back and forth, doing mental summersaults. Maybe I should wait for him to approach me. In all my nervousness I decided to take a trip to the ladies room, to freshen up a bit, and calm down some. As I took a couple of deep breaths, I finally mustered up the nerve to approach him, and wanted to do it before I chickened out.

To my dismay, and as Murphy’s Law would have it, when I returned, the object of my affection was gone. Nowhere to be found.  Although I was extremely disappointed in how I vacillated, and wasted time, I decided to be productive, and analyze the morning’s events. It was no secret that I used my time to my disadvantage. Had I allowed my “old schoolâ€? dating rules to take a back seat, I could have possibly connected with a wonderful person. It got me to thinking though about all of these pre-conceived notions out here. Is it okay for a woman to approach a man? More importantly, what do brothers truly think of a woman who boldly makes the first move? Is it concluded by men that asking them out equals promiscuity?

As of late, women have been deemed as being too aggressive, and too forward. There is such a double standard that it often stifles the natural process that love would take. Let’s face it, a man can date and sleep with as many women as he can physically handle, and it is almost revered and encouraged by society. On the other hand, a woman is shunned and made to feel humiliated if she goes about things in the same way. Same action, but a different reaction. Maybe the only rules should be the ones we make individually and personally. ‘Cause love just is.

Note to self:  Don’t become defined by others to validate yourself.

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