Your Confidence is a Fragrance

Men despise things that are easily acquired – The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana

Ladies: If your confidence is a fragrance, then your desperation is a stench. This is a loose deduction from the above statement, but you’ll see where I’m going with this pretty quickly.

There are few things more frustrating than watching a friend make an absolute fool of herself for the sake of a man. I’ve mentioned it in previous posts that I have a friend who, while we were in our 20s, would sleep with whatever random man she had been courting for x number of weeks. Contact between her and these men generally ended after the first session, certainly no later than the second.  She sincerely looking for a committed relationship, thought it was a problem with performance, and was always despondent. “Why don’t they like me,” she would weep. Allowing sexual contact after a man has taken you out to dinner for the very first time is never advisable…and to most men it’s just downright despicable, even if they initiate the process. Why? Because men despise things that are easily acquired.

A woman, if looking for a serious and committed relationship, must never give ANYTHING easily or readily to any man. I mean not even a drink of water. Watch how a man treats his first car. He washes it every weekend, makes sure the oil is changed on schedule, and shampoos the interior. Why? Because he spent many afternoons after high school toiling away at some minimum wage/serious of odd jobs to buy it. For instance, my husband took far better care of his 1990 something Honda CR-V that he drove through high school and college than he does his Mercedes that he’s driving today. Why? Because of the level of sweat equity that was put into gaining and maintaining that car. It’s an unfortunate comparison, but truthfully the two things men often take the most pride in and place in the same category are women and cars.

Now that I’m in my 30s, my new pet peeve is women who lack a certain level of confidence. I was having a conversation with a friend of mine about two weeks ago who was in the midst of conflict with one of her friends. The result of the conflict is immaterial. What is of importance is the root – which came down to jealousy. Women by nature compare ourselves to other women. We compare hair length, waist size, height, skin color, designer clothing….whatever is pertinent at the moment. This is all well and fine, as long as at the end of the day the woman doing the comparison is able to embrace her assets and use them to her best advantage.

I find that in my 30s, I have little patience for women who do not possess this ability.

I am a firm believer that at this age, we should have the wisdom and faculties to sniff out when corporate America is trying to sell us whatever unattainable dream via an ad campaign is going to fatten their collective pockets. For instance, no matter how much Palmer’s Cocoa butter I slather on my skin, these stretch marks are NEVER going away. In light of this, Palmer’s isn’t going to get another dime of my money, no matter how many commercials they run. I would rather divert my dollars to procuring 100% nku cream from Ghana.  In the same vein, women who have issues with skin color (and in the Black community it’s generally those who are considered ‘dark’) really just need to embrace their beauty. Ebony skinned women, unlike women of my tone, have certain attributes that make them breathtakingly beautiful. As a rule, they have blemish-free skin; their features are keener; their hair is of a unique quality – these are all things that if cherished and venerated are excellent confidence boosters. And no matter what popular culture says, a woman who defines and owns her true-self will carry the scent of confidence – which more mature men find irresistible – instead of the odor of desperation when trying too hard to sell her worth in spite of these attributes. Does anyone see the difference?

I’ll say it again. Do yourself a favor today:- Whether you’re albino white or dark-as-night black; whether you’re a slip of a woman or a whale of one; whether you’ve got a 3rd grade education or six PhDs; wash your face tonight, look in the mirror and say “Hot Heaven, girl, you are fine!” and start to believe it.

If you’re married, I bet you the sex will get better…which will lead to breakfast in bed, dishes miraculously done, and an extra 20 bucks covertly stuffed in your purse just to say “thank you.”