
"God told me I took you as far as you could go. Your parents didn't really teach you how to deal with life-situations," he said over the phone, while I cried on my childhood bed. "Now you can go back to living with mommy and daddy."
I was twenty-five years old, had lost my "dream job" and broke the lease on my first "big girl" apartment. I moved back to Houston after living for nearly two years in a small town where I tried to create an independent life from my parents and form a long-term future with my on-and-off again boyfriend of nearly six years.
I was broke and depressed. I didn't eat and I barely slept. My clothes began to fall loose on my figure because I had lost so much weight. My bank account was in the red. My gas tank was on E. My life was like a bad soap opera, but I had created it.
After that last conversation with my boyfriend at the time, I never heard from him again. I kept hope alive because he said he still loved me and saw a future with me; I just needed to get mentally well. Of course, in my fragile state, I took that as a definite sign that he still cared and we would be back together in the future once I worked on myself.
I called multiple times and left several text messages. I even reached out on social media. He subsequently blocked my number and blocked me from all social media channels. I felt like an outcast. To know someone as more than a best friend, to see all aspects of them good and bad and then to become a stranger is the worst type of poison.
I felt that pain in my core and it took me months to cognitively realize that he was doing to me like he did with all of his previous relationships before me; he ghosted me.
With the support of more-than-generous friends and family, I repaired my self-esteem and focused on building my businesses as well as pursuing a Master of Business Administration. I found my zeal for life again. I found my inner confidence and embraced my quirks. I fell in love again with a man that valued me and saw himself building a future with me. I had discovered the secure, vibrant and ambitious girl I knew was hiding within the broken woman.
In the throes of a toxic relationship, you keep yourself above the current. You believe in your soul that no matter what harsh trials are thrown at you, love is still greater than hardship. You are unaware that you are a moment from crashing and being taken under. Once you come to your senses, you realize you were choking on all of the lies and being gaslighted. You realize you could have drowned and never recovered.
In realizing how blessed I was to come out of the other side, here are six things I realized over the course of an almost six-year toxic relationship:
You Can’t Depend on Others for Your Happiness
My ex-boyfriend was my first love. I was nineteen, inexperienced and naive. I had never had a boyfriend before and I thought being in a relationship would make me feel complete. I used to envy my friends that got gifts on Valentine's Day and as I got older, I envied their engagement rings. I depended on my ex-boyfriend to make me happy, even as I saw it made him miserable. As he strived to provide happiness for me, it ate away at his own happiness.
We were young and not even sure how we identified ourselves in this vast and often cold world. As a young woman, I searched for examples on how to act and as a young man, he looked to what he knew. I internalized his personal failings with other women and used that to define my worth as a woman. I craved his validation to make me happy. I desired elaborate gifts and fancy dinner dates to prove that I was where his heart lay -- at the cost of my self-esteem. When he ghosted me, I had to deal with my own personal problems. I was forced to make myself happy. I realized how unfair it was to blame him continuously for his misgivings and hold him hostage in a relationship that he obviously did not value.
It Takes Two to Make a Relationship Toxic
Often times, we try to blame the other person for a toxic relationship. The problem is that it takes two to make a relationship toxic. I was the first to talk to all my girlfriends and paint this vivid picture of how horrible my ex was: how he still communicated with a girl he cheated on me with; acted ashamed of me around his college friends; made fun of my insecurities and body-shamed me. The details I left out are how I would sometimes start arguments over past transgressions; make fun of how he looked and compare him to other men.
I remained in a toxic relationship, even though I had agency over my decisions.
I chose to ignore advice and stick with someone that made me miserable just to say I was in a relationship.
You are Nobody’s Baby Sitter or Mama
I loaned my ex a lot of money while he was a struggling teacher. I gave him $1,400 when his car faced repossession and hundreds of dollars here and there when he was late on rent. I wrote his entire graduate school application and he broke up with me once he got accepted into the program on a full tuition scholarship. I had written so many applications and college essays for him, even his previous Teach for America application, that it felt natural. I didn't realize that I was enabling him to become dependent on me as an on-demand Payday Loan or a muse for his applications. What I realized though is that as he didn't mind bank-rolling my lifestyle throughout college, I didn't mind being that constant ATM for him after college. It made me feel special that he looked to me to help him with his problems. What I should have realized is that sometimes you need to deal with your own problems. Alone.
Self-Care is Vital to Your Mental Well-being
I didn't focus on making sure that I was mentally well when in the relationship and hid how I felt when around his family. One of his aunts even pointed out that I seemed like I had this dark cloud hanging over me and something was amiss with me. That dark cloud was the relationship and the pressures of balancing life, a career and constant parental feedback. Once I focused on checking in with myself, making sure that I wasn't hiding my problems under a pile of ambition or another relationship, I was able to heal.
Don’t Isolate Yourself from Your Friends and Family
I isolated myself from my friends and family because I knew they did not approve of the relationship. Within the first year of us dating, they pointed out how toxic it was and that he did not value me. My ex-boyfriend even pitted me against my friends by saying that they weren't really my friends and told me about how people at my college made fun of me and that everyone wondered why he would even date me; he was too good for me. He compared me to my friends and even told me that he wished he would have dated one of them because she was so much more mature and that I was a joke, silly and childish.
He crippled my self-esteem to the point where I hated leaving my college dorm because I was scared people were making fun of the way I dressed, talked or even walked. He became my world and I looked to him for validation. When he ghosted me, I realized that my friends were still there and my parents helped with my transition back home. Once he paid me back the money I loaned him, he was nowhere to be found. All along I wish I would have realized my friends and family did care for me and wanted to see me happy.
Exiting a Toxic Relationship Before You are Ghosted is Essential
If you are being ghosted, you have missed all of the signs that the relationship is not working out and that it is toxic. There were numerous signs that he had tired of the relationship, from our multiple break-ups and make-ups to his continuous comparing of me to other women and the feeling of isolation even within the relationship. When I was a friend, I had seen how he treated a previous ex so coldly by ignoring their calls and acting like they didn't even exist. For some reason, when I witnessed these actions as his friend, it did not click that maybe he was the problem and not the other people. In my naivete, I believed that there was something wrong with them, that they were insane or could not provide him what he needed in a healthy relationship.
I believed that I could be that answer because I was his friend first.
What I realized is that he was a master of lies. He made himself look like the victim, while he was leaving the real victims broken. I am so glad I escaped that personal hell before I ended up in an even worse situation. I sought therapy to deal with this relationship and I am so glad he ended it the way he did. It gave me the chance to see my own major faults and realize that I am the master of my own happiness. People treat you the way you allow them to treat you. I will never again give a man that much power.
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Adrian Marcel On Purpose, Sacrifice, And The 'Signs Of Life'
In this week's episode of xoMAN, host Kiara Walker talked with R&B artist Adrian Marcel, who opened up, full of heart and authenticity, about his personal evolution. He discussed his days transitioning from a young Bay Area singer on the come-up to becoming a grounded husband and father of four.
With honesty and introspection, Marcel reflected on how life, love, and loss have shaped the man he is today.
On ‘Life’s Subtle Signals’
Much of the conversation centered around purpose, sacrifice, and listening to life’s subtle signals. “I think that you really have to pay attention to the signs of life,” Marcel said. “Because as much as we need to make money, we are not necessarily on this Earth for that sole purpose, you know what I mean?” While he acknowledged his ambitions, adding, “that is not me saying at all I’m not trying to ball out,” he emphasized that fulfillment goes deeper.
“We are here to be happy. We are here [to] fulfill a purpose that we are put on here for.”
On Passion vs. Survival
Adrian spoke candidly about the tension between passion and survival, describing how hardship can sometimes point us away from misaligned paths. “If you find it’s constantly hurting you… that’s telling you something. That’s telling you that you’re going outside of your purpose.”
Marcel’s path hasn’t been without detours. A promising athlete in his youth, he recalled, “Early on in my career, I was still doing sports… I was good… I had a scholarship.” An injury changed everything. “My femur broke. Hence why I always say, you know, I’m gonna keep you hip like a femur.” After the injury, he pivoted to explore other careers, including teaching and corporate jobs.
“It just did not get me—even with any success that happened in anything—those times, back then, I was so unhappy. And you know, to a different degree. Like not just like, ‘I really want to be a singer so that’s why I’m unhappy.’ Nah, it was like, it was not fulfilling me in any form or fashion.”
On Connection Between Pursuing Music & Fatherhood
He recalled performing old-school songs at age 12 to impress girls, then his father challenged him: “You can lie to these girls all you want, but you're really just lying to yourself. You ain't growing.” That push led him to the piano—and eventually, to his truth. “Music is my love,” Marcel affirmed. “I wouldn’t be a happy husband if I was here trying to do anything else just to appease her [his wife].”
Want more real talk from xoMAN? Catch the full audio episodes every Tuesday on Spotify and Apple Podcasts, and don’t miss the full video drops every Wednesday on YouTube. Hit follow, subscribe, and stay tapped in.
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Sometimes I get asked the same question, often enough, that I’m like, “It’s time to address this on a larger platform,” — and for, whatever the reason, as of late, folks have been asking me what different sex acts mean.
No, not from the perspective of positions or techniques. What they’ve basically wanted to know is if making love, having sex, and f-cking are simply different words to describe the same thing or if there truly is something deeper with each one.
Let me start this off by saying that of course, to a certain extent, the answer is subjective because it’s mostly opinion-rather-than-fact driven. However, I personally think that sex is hella impactful, which is why I hope that my personal breakdown will at least cause you to want to think about what you do, who you do it with, and why, more than you may have in the past.
Because although, at the end of the day, the physical aspects of making love, having sex, and f-cking are very similar, you’d be amazed by how drastically different they are in other ways…at the very same time.
Making Love
Back when I wrote my first book, I wasn’t even 30 at the time and still, one of the things that I said in it is, I pretty much can’t stand the term “make love.” Way back then, I stated that sex between two people who truly love each other and are committed for the long haul, when it comes to what they do in the bedroom, it’s so much more about CELEBRATING love than MAKING it. To make means “to produce” or “to bring into existence;” to celebrate means “to commemorate,” “to perform” or “to have or participate in a party, drinking spree, or uninhibited good time.”
The act of sex, standing alone? It can’t make love happen and honestly, believing otherwise is how a lot of people find themselves getting…got.
What do I mean? Tell me how in the world, you meet a guy, talk to him for a few weeks, don’t even know his middle name or where he was born and yet somehow, you choose to call the first time you have sex with him (under those conditions) “making love.” You don’t love him. You don’t know him well enough to love him. He doesn’t love you either (for the same reason). And yet you’re making love? How sway? Oh, but let that sex be bomb and those oxytocin highs might have you tempted to think that’s what’s happening — and that is emotionally dangerous. And yes, I mean, literally.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times before, that one of the reasons why I like that the Bible defines sex between a husband and his wife is by using the word “know” (Genesis 4:1) is because, well, I think that is what celebrating love is all about — we know each other well enough to know that we love each other, we know each other well enough to know that we aren’t going anywhere, and that knowing is what makes us want to celebrate that union by getting as close to one another and bringing as much physical pleasure to each other as we possibly can…as often as absolutely possible.
To me, that is what the peak of physical intimacy is all about — and the people who choose to use the term “make love,” it should be seen through this type of lens. When this type of mental and emotional bond comes together via each other’s bodies, they are amplifying love, enjoying love, embracing love.
Making it, though? Chile, the love has already been made. Sex is just the icing on the cake.
Having Sex
A few nights ago, I found myself rewatching this movie called Four of Hearts (which you can currently view on yep, you guessed it: Tubi). It’s about two married couples — one that is in an open marriage and another that isn’t although they somehow thought that sharing a night with the other couple would be a good idea (chile). Anyway, as one of the partners found themselves getting low-key sprung, the one they fell for said in one of the scenes, “It wasn’t a connection. It was just sex.” JUST. SEX.
Listen, when you decide to let a man put an entire part of his body inside of you at the risk of potentially getting an STI/STD or pregnant (because no form of birth control is 100 percent except for abstinence), it can never be “just sex” (somebody really needed to hear that too). At the same time, though, I got the character’s point because, if one or both people do not love each other or even deeply care for one another and/or sex is treated as an activity more than an act to establish a worthwhile connection and/or you and the person you are sleeping with have not really discussed what you are expecting from sex besides the act itself — you’re definitely not making/celebrating love.
Not by a long shot. What can make things get a bit complicated, though, is you’re doing the same act that “love makers” do without the same mental and emotional ties…or (sometimes) expectations.
You know, back when I decided to put all of my business out there via the piece “14 Lessons I've Learned From 14 Sex Partners,” now more than ever, I am quite clear that most of those guys fell into the “having sex” category. I wasn’t in the type of relationship with them where “making love” even made sense; however, because I was friends with most of them, we weren’t exactly f-cking (which I will get to in just a moment) either. We had a connection of some sort for the bedroom yet not enough to be together in the other rooms of the house.
We were really attracted and curious, so we decided to act on that. Oftentimes, the sex was good and so we rationalized that “having sex” was enough because if the friendship was, eh, “sound enough”, that we could justify the physical pleasure.
And y’all, that’s kind of what having sex is — it’s the limbo (or purgatory, depending on your situation) between making love and f-cking. The thing about limbo ish is it’s a lot like something being lukewarm: it’s not really one thing or another which means that it can completely blindside you, if you’re not careful (and totally honest with yourself as well as your partner(s)).
So, if you are contemplating having sex, I really — REALLY — recommend that you figure out how you feel, what you want (outside of the act itself) and if you are prepared for what “not quites” can bring. My mother used to say that the consequences of sex don’t change just because the circumstances do — and there is some solid “wow” to that, if you really stop to think about it.
And finally, f-ck. Although most experts on the word (and yes, there are some) agree that its origin is rooted somewhere within the German language (although some say that it might’ve come from Middle English words like fyke or fike which mean “to move about restlessly” or the Norwegian word fukka which means “to copulate”), you might have also heard that it is an acronym that once stood for “Fornication Under Consent of the King”; and there is actually some data that is connected to that as well.
Legend has it that way back in the day, in order to keep reproduction rates where a particular king wanted them to be, he would instruct his residents to have sex with each other — whether they were married or not (hence, the word “fornication” being in the acronym). However, because sex outside of marriage was taken far more seriously at the time, residents had to apply for a permit to participate so that the king could determine if things like their occupation and lineage would prove to be beneficial for the kingdom overall. F-ck: no love; just necessity. And although some believe this to be more myth than fact, what is certain is it was only over time that f-ck was seen as a profane/swear/cuss word — a word that was perceived to be so offensive, in fact, that between the years 1795-1965, it didn’t even appear in dictionaries.
Personally, when I think of this four-letter word, the first thing that actually comes to my mind is animals. Take a dog being in heat, for instance. That’s basically when a female dog is ovulating and wants to have sex the most. It’s not because they are “in love” with another dog; they are simply doing what instinctively comes to them — and since animals do not reason or feel at the same capacity that humans do, although they science says that many of them do experience pleasure when they engage in their version of sexual activity, it’s not nearly as layered or even profound as what we experience.
Let’s keep going. Another reason why f-cking makes me think of animals is due to the doggy style position. Hear me out. Ain’t it wild how, most of us pretty much know that the term comes from how dogs have sex, even though most animals have sex that same way — and think about it: Doggy style doesn’t consist of making eye contact or kissing while having intercourse. It’s “hitting from behind” without much emotional energy or effort at all. Just how animals do it. And so, yeah, f-cking does seem to be more about pure animal — or in our case, mammal — instinct. I don’t need to feel anything for someone, so long as the sexual desire is there. Hmph.
Something else that I find to be interesting about f-cking is how dictionaries choose to define it. Many of them are going to provide you with two definitions: “to have sexual intercourse with” and “to treat unfairly or harshly (usually followed by over)” and that definitely makes me think of another term — casual sex and words that define casual like apathetic, careless and without serious or definite intention. So, the dictionary says that while f-cking is about having sexual intercourse — just like making love and having sex is — it goes a step further and says that it can include being treated unfairly or harshly.
And although that can make you think of assault on the surface, for sure — sometimes being treated unfairly or harshly is simply feeling like someone had sex AT you and not really WITH you; instinct (i.e., getting off) and that’s about it. Yeah, the way this puzzle is coming together, f-cking seems to be more about lust and self and not much else.
Now That You Know the Difference, What to Keep in Mind
Y’all, this is definitely the kind of topic that I could expound on until each and every cow comes home. That said, here’s hoping that I provided enough perspective on each act to close this out by encouraging you to keep the following three things to keep in mind:
1. Before you engage in copulation, be honest with yourself about what you’re ACTUALLY doing — and that your partner agrees with you. You know, they say that our brain is our biggest sex organ and honestly, breaking down the differences between making love, having sex and f-cking helps to prove that fact. I say that because, although the sex act itself is pretty much the same across the board, you and your partner’s mindset can make the experience completely different. That said, if you think that you are making love and they think y’all are just having sex — stuff can get pretty dicey. Bottom line: communicate in the bedroom before attempting to connect outside of it. It’s always worth it when you do.
2. Yes, you can feel one way and do something else. I can just about guess what some of y’all are on: Shellie, we can love our partner and still just want to f-ck. If what you are saying is you can emotionally love someone and physically lust them and want to act sometimes on the lust without really factoring in the love — yes, I agree. Doggy style continues to be a favorite sex position for people, in general, and I’m more than confident that many of the participants polled are in a serious relationship. However, having lust-filled sex with someone who you know loves you is vastly different than doing it with someone who you have no clue what they think about you or you barely know at all. Y’all, please just make sure that you know…what you should know. Sex is too amazing to have a lot of regret after it.
3. Have realistic expectations about sex. Listen, so much of my life consists of writing and talking about sex that I will be the first one to say that it deserves a ton of props for what it is able to do, in a wonderful way, for people mentally, emotionally and physically. Yet again, I’m not a fan of “make love” because something that feels really good doesn’t always mean that it is good for you. Meaning, you’ve got to be real about what sex with someone will do to your mind and spirit — not just what it will do for your body. An author by the name of Gabriel García Márquez once said, “Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love.” For no one, should this be a constant norm. Feel me? I hope you do.
____
One act. Three very different experiences.
It’s kind of wild that sex has the ability to create that — and yet, clearly, it does.
Please just make sure that you know which experience you’re signing up for.
So that you’re having sex (you know, in general) instead of sex having you. Real talk.
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