Only a few days had passed since Loriel’s conversation with Mr. Hairline letting him know I was ready to call it quits. Already, he had reached out and proposed a date, time, and location for our next rendezvous. This was an immediate energy shift from his previous behavior of waiting until the day of the date to confirm our plans. He also started to text daily and seemed to be a bit more engaged when we spoke. 

Unclear on how I should proceed, I took to therapy to process my experience with Hairline. Unlike some clients who use therapy to address specific symptoms and then move on, I use it as a tool for self-care and mental wellness. It can become quite noisy inside this intricate mind of mine, so it helps me to externally process situations with an unbiased party.

My therapist has been with me for about ten years and has witnessed my evolution as a woman. She is aware of how I have tried to fit square pegs into round holes and linger well beyond the expiration dates of my relationships in the past. This time around, I didn’t want to relive those experiences. If the writing was on the wall with Mr. Hairline, I would let him go expeditiously. Time waits for no one – especially women in their late thirties who still desire marriage and family.  

While I didn’t want to waste time and entertain foolishness, I also wanted to welcome grace into my exchanges with the men I dated. Discerning when, how, and to whom we give grace is a relationship skill, as well as a key component of womanhood. No one is perfect and life’s gonna life. I don’t want to be so jaded by my previous experiences that I don’t allow grace for good but imperfect men. I’m sure, as amazing as he will be, my husband will have flaws that irk my soul.  To love him properly, I’ll need to extend grace, rather than hurling criticism and ultimatums when he falls short. As my mother would say, that skill won’t develop “by osmosis”. It’s a muscle that I choose to exercise now, even in my dating relationships.  

So as I discussed Hairline and his quick turnaround with my therapist, I decided to exercise that grace muscle. I would give him two more weeks to see how things unfolded, rather than immediately giving him the ax and removing him from my (one-man) rotation.  

When Monday morning rolled around, my date texted me with his plans – an evening at Top Golf. I had never been, so this would be a unique experience – my favorite kind of date. Never turning down a little friendly competition, I was game!  

Ready for battle

Although I was enthused about participating in a new activity, make no mistake, my guard was definitely on alert. We all know, dating can sometimes feel like the Wild, Wild West –you have to keep your finger on the trigger, ready for action. I didn’t appreciate how Hairline had been inconsistent and nonchalant in our exchanges. He could be hot, cold, and difficult to read. So, I suppose in some sort of subconscious attempt to both make a statement and protect myself, I decided to wear all black with a touch of red for fire. Black biker shorts, a black “my Black is beautiful” tee shirt, black combat boots, and a red bandana – this outfit was not cutesy or feminine. I was cool, comfortable, and in my women’s empowerment bag.

Looking back, that little outfit was my way of channeling my inner Rihanna. I’ve grown to admire her devil-may-care attitude and the way she seemed to center herself while dealing with men before settling down with ASAP. She marches to the tune of her own drum and creates her own rules. It’s yielded her the family she desires, as well as a billion-dollar empire. Sometimes, when I need a boost of courage or confidence, I ask myself, What would RiRi do?

Although I arrived at TopGolf twenty minutes late – another subliminal jab – Hairline greeted me with a smile and a hug. Resolved to make no effort for any particular outcome, I sat back and enjoyed our time. He would lead the discussion when he was ready. In the meantime, we had a great time swinging clubs and totally missing golf balls. We showed our age (and utterly terrible lack of skill) that night. I’m fairly sure I sprained my shoulder, while he walked away complaining about his back. However, as terrible as I was, I won by just a few points. That Leo energy never fails me!

We sat down for a snack after our game closed and I shuddered in the cool evening breeze.  Hairline came close and put his arm around me. I settled in. 

As he talked about his week, somewhere along the line, he mentioned wanting to see me the previous week. My side-eye expression said, yeah, right sure but my lips managed to keep my sarcasm at bay. “I thought you forgot about me” I retored.

Assertive communication: a secret weapon

I will never subscribe to the idea that a woman should suppress her feelings or thoughts to avoid being too opinionated, difficult, or masculine. In the long run, it never serves us to show up in relationships as anything other than who we are. However, it’s also unhelpful to enter a discussion attacking, blaming, or assuming. There’s a delicate balance required for a woman to assertively communicate her thoughts, needs, and feelings, while also honoring the man in front of her with respect and consideration. When executed properly, it’s quite powerful. (I offer assertive communication coaching to teach these skills. Click here to book a consultation.)

Rather than using a “you” statement, which would likely lead to defensiveness, I exercised my assertive communication skills and opted for an “I” statement. “I thought you forgot about me” cultivates a very different energy than “you never call me.” I was owning my thoughts and feelings in response to his behavior, rather than attacking and blaming him.  

In response, Hairline explained everything that Loriel had already told me. He mentioned being overloaded with work and navigating the other women he had been dating. He explained that he was contemplating the best way to end those relationships because “women can be crazy”. My date also acknowledged that he hadn’t anticipated the potential of a serious relationship and filled the next two months with activities and travel to keep busy.

In my gut, I felt that Hairline was being sincere. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. A woman’s intuition is a powerful tool. I’ve learned to trust mine – mostly by seeing the fallout of not heeding her warnings the first time. My intuition was telling me I could trust this man was being honest. 

I accepted his explanation but also shared that I would need more from him to develop a real connection. We ended the exchange peacefully and with understanding. Time would have to tell if Mr. Hairline was capable of showing up in a way that felt secure and satisfying for me.  

A trip to the wild, wild west

After our discussion at Top Golf, we decided to move on to part two of our date for drinks and dessert. This time, we would head to the real Wild, Wild West, Old Town Spring.

Old Town Spring is an interesting place. At any given moment, it feels like Clint Eastwood might come strolling out of one of the saloon-style buildings with his hands saddled on his guns propped in their holsters. The town prides itself in maintaining the historic aesthetic of Texas in the early 1900’s. The 150 restaurants, boutiques, and art galleries have been preserved to resemble the olden-day saloons of the Midwest. I snapped a shot just for you all to see. Check out the photo below.

Mr. Hairline and I pulled up to Prohibition Texas, a woodsy bar and restaurant with a speakeasy type vibe. We stepped out of our cars, and immediately started laughing.

“What in the world? Where do you have me going, sir?”

“I don’t know. I just found the restaurant on Yelp.”

“I feel like I’m in the Wild, Wild West,”  I said as I looked around, vacillating between low-key fear and awe. Here we were, two Black people, strolling around at night in this little Wild Wild West town — in Texas of all states. I was still quite new to the state and very aware of the open-carry gun laws, as well as its red-leaning constituency. Oh to be Black in America…

We walked into Prohibition Texas still a bit vigilant, trying to scope out our surroundings.  However, the bartender put us at ease with her sweet nature and detailed explanation of the menu. As I relaxed in my environment, I admired the speakeasy aesthetic of the restaurant, along with its unique cocktails, cigars, and American food offerings.  

Just an hour before closing, the restaurant was quiet, allowing for a more intimate vibe between the two of us. We chatted quietly as the bartender served me a slice of limoncello cake, while Hairline opted for carrot cake and an old-fashioned. 

“You know, you’re really interesting,” Hairline offered in between bites of his carrot cake.

Ever curious and always ready to challenge men, I responded, “Oh yea? What’s interesting? What do you really think?”

“You’re a grown woman. You know what you want and you’re not afraid to say it. You challenge me, which rarely happens. But it makes me think. It honestly makes me even more attracted to you. It’s beautiful to witness.”

I was shocked. No man had ever given me a compliment like that before. It felt as if all of my work to overcome Nice Girl Syndrome, speak up for myself, and honor my needs had been acknowledged. I thanked Hairline and shared how I had worked hard to become a woman who owns what she wants, asks for it, speaks her mind, and manages her emotions.  

Perhaps all of that therapy and coaching was beginning to pay long-term dividends. Although I didn’t need his validation to acknowledge my growth, I truly appreciated my date for noticing – many men don’t.  

At the end of the night, Hairline walked me to my car and gave me a quick kiss goodnight. As he walked away he hopped to the side and did a little leprechaun kick.  It was adorable. 

I honestly didn’t know what the future would hold for Hairline and me. But rather than returning to my old ways of ruminating and overthinking, I got comfortable with the idea of not knowing.  I would give grace and allow him time to work through what he needed to work through. I would also pay attention to myself, honor my needs, and date other men. 

Time would give me the answers I needed.  

Be sure to subscribe and check back next week to find out what happens on date number 9. If you’re already a fan of my little dating blog, leave a comment or share this post with a friend. I would love to hear from you!

Until Next Time,

Be Blessed!

Kaity