Because something like this would happen to me

Woooooooow……I’m only hopping back on here because tweeting this story was getting tedious. But woooooow….I can’t believe that this is my life and quite frankly I need to take someone else on this wild ride with me in order to process what I just experienced. For this story to make sense, let’s take a quick trip back to July 2016.

Summer 2016, I made a pact with my cousin to give online dating a chance. We had to try it out for at least a few months and if we actually went on a date with someone, we had to try to give him 3 chances. If you’ve ever dated men, you know that it’s a challenge to tolerate them for 1 date, let alone 3. But your girl was determined to make the most of this and thought “this can’t be so terrible. I know people who’ve met significant others online. This is the wave of the future.”

bless her heart

I know…I know (Credit: RuPaul’s Drag Race)

I won’t bore you with the details of my dating adventures that summer. Most of them were duds. I did meet one, who at first didn’t seem so terrible (SIKE!). We met up for drinks, which turned into dinner, which turned into dancing. After a 6 or 7-hours long first date, I thought, “Wow, they really be out here. Girl, you found the one dude who is smart, funny and doesn’t have trash politics.” The man and I discussed the various waves of feminism over Red Stripe. Come on! If that wasn’t someone “fait sur mesure“, I don’t know what is. Again, as anyone who dates men knows, that shit went left real quick. Since I’m not trying to get sued, I won’t share details about this person but chile…..this man had 99 problems and then some. But did I listen to all of my internal cues and run as far away as possible?

send me a sign

And when it definitely did not work out romantically (because duh), I thought “you know what? We should be friends!”

why do I do this

So here I am, 2 years later, “friends” with this person. Now there are many more connections as we have a few mutual friends, shared experiences etc…And a naive part of me wanted to believe that him and I were friends. But as my twitter followers know, I had been grappling with whether or not I wanted to remain friends with this person. As I examined my friendships, I realized that this person took much more than they gave and even in the context of friendship, they were still TRASH. After some consideration, I decided to ghost this friendship, having made sure that I had nothing left to feel guilty about or say.

And now that you’re kind of caught up (honestly this story involves a different country, a bet because of Jesus (try figuring that one out) and so much more), let’s talk about Sunday, June 10th in the year of our Lord, 2018.

picture it sicily

(Credit: The Golden Girls)

My new friend had made plans to bring her new friend to my apartment for some leisure pool time. To avoid confusion, let’s call my new friend G. and her new friend C. We start by admiring and commenting on the omnipresence of Black people in Atlanta and end up talking about problematic Black men. As G and C are talking about how some men have terrible politics (in this context, men who buy into misogyny or homophobia, for example) , I acquiesce and say “Even when their politics aren’t trash, they’re emotionally unavailable.” C agrees and says something along the lines of “I was just talking about this to my Haitian friend. She knows this guy who is really smart and has good politics, but is emotionally unavailable.” Most people would have shaken their heads and said “I hear that.” But because my life is what it is, here’s what happened next:

I say, jokingly and nonchalantly: Sounds like me and your friend know the same guy, lol. 

C chuckles and says: Hahaha,right? No, this guy is in New York. 

Perplexed, I respond: Actually, so is the one I was thinking of. Or at least he was.

C starts looking a little worried and jokingly says: Harlem?

I gulp: Yep

C responds: Was he [insert occupation] at [insert location]?

At this point, I’ve realized the universe is fucking with me because the person I was thinking about was absolutely a [insert occupation] at [insert location].

C starts freaking out and also thinks it might be the same person. And then she tells me what her friend is studying and I know, right then and there, that this is indeed the same person. I give C the guy’s name and she texts her friend. No response.


After what feels like an eternity, C’s friend responds with “Lol. why? What’s up?


Now I would just like to pause here and note that there are millions of people in New York and probably millions of emotionally unavailable men. Also, I did not meet this person in New York. All of this to say that it did not have to go down like that.

So we call C’s friend.

“Excuse me can I please talk to you for a minute?
Uh huh sure, you know you look kinda familiar
Yeah you do to, but I just wanted to know do you know somebody named?
You know his name
Oh yeah definitely I know his name” (
LyricsThe Boy is Mine)


Ok, it didn’t quite go down like that but close. Her and I exchange notes and turns out this person is out here having the most formulaic interactions with Black women. Homie is out here finding women of the African diaspora (both sis and I are Haitian), highly educated (sis just finished up the first year of her PhD, I’m starting mine in the fall), and prone to wanting to fix people (self drag), to unpack his emotional scars. I had a theory that he didn’t actually value Black women as people. I think that he is a person who claims to see Black women’s personhood but actually uses them as tools to facilitate his healing and seek atonement for/from his past (whatever that might be). Sis was a little more blunt in her assessment (I want to write what she said but there’s a part of me that realizes that it doesn’t need to repeated on the internet. Darn you morals).

While I would like to say that “this is a prime example of why dating sucks”, that would be too easy. This is a prime example of “you played yourself.” As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve known this about this person. For years now. I’ve seen the red flags. I just wasn’t ready to let them go. I thought there were so many redeeming things about them and I wanted to believe that they really cared about me. Whether as a friend or more than a friend. Because I really cared about them. And maybe, because deep down, I still had feelings for them *Cringe*. I mean…a few months ago, I was fighting back tears on the A train because I realized that I could no longer ignore the truth of my relationship with this person.


Anyways, after 30 minutes of dragging this person (and me), sis ends the conversation by telling C that she recently published an article and that she will send the link. C says that she will share it with me. Turns out I read the article some time last week (because again, this is how my life works now) and…


P.S.: I kind of missed this. Maybe I should consider coming back to this as a distraction, once I start school next year. Maybe…

P.P.S.: I’m fine. It’s fine. But also, woooooow…..the world is too darn small.

I’m a fuckboi, I know. But let me tell you how Becky tried it.

I really am like that fuckboi (gender nonspecific term) that won’t go away, aren’t I? Even after well over a year of zero communication, when you’re happy and thriving, I send you a “how you been?” text. It’s almost as if I’ve sensed that you’re moving on and have to come back and mess with your head one more time.

At some point, we’ll both have to stop torturing ourselves and actually sever ties. Some of you might have already pulled the plug and I cannot blame you (I know I just said that I can’t but I absolutely do. Blame you that is. Because as I mentioned earlier, I’m a fuckboi and that is what a fuckboi does. Tells you one thing when s/he really means something else)

Kanye shrug

Sorry, not sorry. Sidenote: We should all pray for brother Kanye

Some of you might screen my calls but still read my texts.  And despite all of your friends telling you to block my number, you falter and decide to meet up for just 1 drink. We all know where that leads 😉


It’s ok boo. It happens to the best of us

The last few of you are the ones that have kept calling, kept sending the random “hey, hope you’re well” or “just thinking about you and wanted to say hi” texts. And to you I say: “I wish I appreciated you more and gave you what you deserved from me, CONSISTENCY and RECIPROCITY”.  But we both know that I’ll never change. A fuckboi will do what a fuckboi does.

Zoe Kravitz gif

This is what a fuckboi does after they send you a text trying to mess up your whole life

As you reflect on your life choices, wondering which group you belong to and which group you’d like to belong to, let me holla at you real quick and get something off my chest. Because despite my lackadaisical attitude and being completely undeserving of y’all, I know y’all to be great listeners (well readers) and I need to share with you how these wypipo keep trying me.


If you are a Black person in these United States of Amerikkka , you might have experienced being followed in a store, being called a slur (or several if you sit at the intersection of Blackness and Queerness/Transness/Different Ableness etc…), being told that you’re “so well-spoken” (the implied bit is that you’re well-spoken for a Black person) or “Black but not like Black Black” (actually it’s not just in this messed-up country but I’ve already spent a lot of time writing an unnecessarily long intro before getting to my point. Sorry!) You may also find that certain people think that they’ve walked into a petting zoo and you’re one of the main attracttions.

touching hair 2

And sometimes, they just say THE👏🏾 STUPIDEST👏🏾NONSENSE👏🏾AND👏🏾WON’T👏🏾SHUT👏🏾THEIR👏🏾FACE.

white guy talks about having it hard

I mean, just look at the orange shrew, “trigger fingers turn to twitter fingers”, they call their president. This man stays willin’ and says the craziest things. And while it’s easy to dismiss “conservatives whites” or “T***** supporters”, the “liberal whites” aren’t much better. They be saying out-of-pocket things too. Take for instance this experience at the airport in Entebbe.

As we’re standing in line, the security guard tells us to drop our bags and move to the side. We all look on as the guard tries to get a dog to sniff out any suspicious materials. And because people don’t know when to keep their stupid thoughts to themselves, this very blonde, very white woman whispers loud enough for some of us to hear: “But I’m not a terrorist. I mean come on”

the fuckery

Why do y’all insist on being trash? ANSWER ME BECKY!

I wanted to snatch Goldilocks’ non-existent edges. She might as well have said “I’m not Brown y’all. And we all know that only Brown people are terrorists. So let’s stop this charade because I, a delicate white wallflower, should never be considered dangerous.”


Becks, y’all (as in wypipo), are the largest terrorist group. For centuries, y’all have decimated, enslaved, abused, disenfranchised and marginalized entire countries. Y’all continue to kill us – whether we’re sleeping in our homes, walking home with skittles in our pockets, praying, protecting our children, standing in line, listening to music or simply being our authentic selves. You’ve built entire systems to slowly squeeze the life out of us because immediately ending lives wasn’t enough to satisfy your sadistic needs. Let’s not even talk about how you contribute to the destabilization of economies and make them completely dependent on foreign aid while refusing to pay up those reparations (+ compounded interest).

And you (specifically Becks), know that “the preservation of white women’s virtue” has been motive enough to kill Black men and y’all have fully taken advantage of that. You’ve played the damsel in distress, lying and getting our babies beaten and killed. And when confronted with the fact that you uphold white supremacy, y’all are so quick to say “but…but…feminism”

So yes Becks, you do look like a terrorist. Matter of fact, when I think of terrorism, you and Chad are exactly what I think about.

white people are fucked up

PS: Haitians have a saying that goes “Mwen voye dlo, m’ pa mouye pèsonn” meaning “If this ain’t about you boo, then don’t get in your feelings. I’m talking to the ones who need to do better. So please do not #notallwhitepeople this.

PPS: No, I’m not back and will not be doing better. Y’all will just be surprised whenever I decide to come back on here and ramble.