When Your Taste in Men is Shit.

I realized I've been dating for ten years. Isn't that crazy? I don't even know how to feel about that. If dating was a career and the last ten years were a bust, wouldn't it be time to switch careers?

Or is it more about the journey and all that other zen stuff?

We can all hope that as we age, we wizen up. I certainly have. There are a lot of things I believed in and did in my late teens/early twenties that I now realize was just stupid. For example, after reflecting on the past ten years, I can admit my taste in men was bad.

I would have saved myself a lot of time if I had some standards and stuck to them.

I realize now that:

I no longer feel the need to entertain a guy just because he's interested in me. 

My mother has started giving my number out to randoms. I guess I should be more upset but I really don't care. My policy is "just because you call, doesn't mean I have to pick up the phone."

I can't tell you how many guys I went out with because I wanted to give them a chance, even though I wouldn't let them near my hands, let alone my vagina. Ladies, if you're not into the guy asking, don't feel bad about it and go out with him anyway.


Sensitive, arty types with hipster tendencies are the WORST.

Having a boyfriend seemed like one of the most amazing things ever as a teenager. But it wasn't just about having a boyfriend, it was about having the right boyfriend. I'm a product of the 90s and I was an angsty youth which pretty much means Angela Chase was my jam. So in my head, the perfect guy for me had to be sensitive but strong, self-deprecating but confident, good-looking but completely unaware of it, and an artist (because I wanted someone who would "get me"), a fan of indie music (being in a band was negotiable).

28 yr old me to 17 yr old me: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! 

Does a good-looking artist who is confident but modest exist? I'll never know because I am done with artists.

What used to sound so cool to me is, in reality, a freaking nightmare. I dated an actor for a while. I have never been with a more confused, indecisive person in my life. There's nothing romantic about a guy that doesn't know what he wants.

Guys either like you or they don't.

Look, don't waste your time with guys who can't take the time to pick up a phone and call. Don't waste your time on a guy that makes every single warning sign buzz and light up. If you have to constantly rationalize why he:

only texts you at night,

is in a "complicated" relationship,

likes you a lot but doesn't want to put labels on anything,

doesn't know what you do for a living/ what your last name is/ takes you to a steak restaurant on your bday even though you're a vegan and you told him that (true fucking story).

ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!

So my goal in life is to find a balance between these ideas:

Don't waste your time. 

AND

Don't crap on anything in life that teaches you a lesson and helps you grow.

Here's to figuring it out.

Disney's Minority Quota.

‎My sister's mother-in-law who is like a second mom to me, gifted me with the cutest Disney Princesses lunchbox.

Disclaimer:  I am not a Disney Princess girl. I'm not a Disney anything (Disney World is what I imagine hell is like). So to my friends out there, do not get me Disney stuff for Christmas.

It was a really sweet gift. It's pink and it has all the princesses on the front and as I looked down at it I thought, "aww".

Then I thought, "Why was Princess Jasmine bounced for Princess Tiana?"

This is what the lunch box looks like: 

Right?!? Where is Princess Jasmine? I LOVED Aladdin (RIP Genie) because it's awesome and since Disney took it's damn time creating a princess that was black, Princess Jasmine was the closest thing to relatable when it came to melanin. 

So now that little black girls have a princess that looks like them, little middle eastern girls are shit out of luck?

Is there some sort of quota I'm not aware of?

Here's another Disney Princess lunchbox:

I'm totally judging you, Disney.

Don't Chase It.

I read a quote on someone's instagram: 

When you stop chasing the wrong things, you give the right things a chance to catch you.

I don't chase. I wait and move forward at the same time, my hands open and ready to catch what comes my way, hopeful that I will receive what I'm meant to receive.

This Isn't Going To Work Because I Don't Like You

You know when you meet someone and at first it's all good? 

You like the way he looks, he's funny, he gets your funny. He's smart, he's got dimples. Then as you're getting to know the person via BBWhatMessengerChat, you realize you guys just don't gel?

Sure, he's not a raging homophobe (true story), or into beastiality (sigh... true story). Those are obvious deal breakers, right? 

RIGHT?!? 

Maybe he says something you find incredibly annoying (like "that's wassup" in an un-ironic way) or has John Mayer as his profile pic on Facebook (true story and as confusing as ever). Maybe he's a "drill baby drill" kind of guy while you're a granola muncher. Maybe he calls you "sweet baby love" (ew).

The question is, does one overlook the annoying but not awful habit? Does not overlooking said habit make someone a picky bitch?

These are the questions I have to ask myself now. Because my age and ringless fingers are alarming my relatives.

While I'm sure single men of a certain age get hounded as well, being a single woman in her twenties in Nigeria is akin to being an alcoholic. Get ready for conversations to start with "I'm worried about you", prayer circles in your honor and interventions (fo' real).

Nevermind that you graduated with honors, are the youngest exec at the company you work for, just climbed Mt. Kilamanjo. You have not wedded so you have not been bedded (because we're all virgins until our wedding night, right ladies) so you have not shot a baby out of your vagina.

It ALWAYS comes back to babies.

Long story short, I am being introduced to every man with a pulse that is Yoruba (my family's a bunch of tribalists).

I was set up on a blind date by my mother and uncle. It was awkward. It was the worst. A pap smear would have been preferable. The prospect of another blind date is enough to make the pickiest girl reconsider some old prospects, John Mayer profile pic and all. 

When Being Kind Is Not Okay

I went to a high school that had signouts (think slam books meet yearbooks).

In my signout, almost everyone who wrote in it commented on how nice I was. They encouraged me to never change, remain "sweet and kind".

Kindness was my identifier. I happily claimed it and still do.

So don't take my recent post encouraging everyone to be a 'selfish asshole' as a war on human decency. I think the best decision I make every day is to be kind.

I'm about that 'love thy neighbor as thyself' life.

It's just that... recently I've begun to realize that being nice all the time is one of my biggest flaws.

I recently found myself in a situation where I had to say 'no' to someone. It doesn't matter who it was for, what it was, how I said it. Those are details. What's interesting is what happened later.

I was depressed. I'm talking a loss of appetite, lack of motivation to do anything, fatigue, a general funky mood.

It wasn't that I was sad I said 'no'. I'm confident that I did the right thing. It's the fact that I put myself in a position where I was not the 'nice one' that's bothering me so much. I, Juwon Ajayi, was not accommodating.

The thought that saying 'no' meant there was a person out there that may not like me really upset me.

That's just not okay.

I love the saying "don't mistake my kindness for weakness". I've used it a lot in the past. But seeking the approval of others is weak. Bending backwards so people are pleased with you is weak. Inconveniencing yourself so that people are always happy with you is just stupid.

I'm writing these words and I'm still struggling to understand that it's okay for me to say no. I don't have to win "Miss Congeniality". I don't have to be liked by everyone.

Why is it so important for people, especially women, to seek the approval of others? Were we just raised to be docile and amicable?

It kills me that I am so invested in others' opinions of me. I wish that weren't the case. It is something I am actively going to work on.

If you willingly allow people to walk all over you, then tell yourself "it's the Christian thing to do", are you really living an admirable life?

My Summer of Living.

I am a daydreamer. I think I got that from my dad. I can spend hours lying down and imagining a life where I'm a shop owner, an archaeologist, a critically acclaimed writer. I imagine myself in Turkey, in Oman, in Portland, Sydney, Paris, Morocco. I imagine myself cliff-diving, skuba-diving. I imagine myself as an adventurous woman.

Someone once told me that I think too much. He said "people who think don't DO anything".

He's kind of right. I spend more time thinking of an amazing life than living one.

That ends now people.

My dad was so busy working that he didn't leave Nigeria the last 20+ years of his life. I respect his hustle but it makes me sad that my father, who had been to countries in five out of seven continents when he was younger, got so caught up in work. He'll never get to take my mom to the small town outside of Vienna that he lived in when he was a young man. We're never going to take that trip to Dubai I talked about obsessively when he was sick, thinking sheer will would keep him alive.

I'm so done with daydreaming. I'm not rich but I have a job that pays well enough and allows me to work anywhere with wifi. I'm not married, I don't have kids, I don't have any responsibilities that require me to stay anywhere.

I'm out.

I declare the next few months, the "summer of living". I am going to do as much as I can while I'm visiting family and friends in the states. I'm going to see some new things, meet some new people. And when I get back, I intend to continue doing so.

 It is so easy to get caught up in the details required to run our lives. Those lives of ours are short. Death is inevitable. There's nothing any of us can do about it. But If we're going to die tomorrow, shouldn't our bucket lists be shorter?

Fitting in is Overrated.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. I made raw carrot cake (recipe coming up) and we ate that with corn on the cob and ewedu soup because we are weirdos. Then we watched The Proposal for the 100th time because Mom loves Sandra Bullock. It was a very chill day.

My mom is the best. She has the biggest heart and is open and always lends a helping hand. She also worries. She could win a medal for worrying.

My mom said the sweetest/saddest thing to me while we were chatting about her and my dad. She said she was scared for me because I'm a fish out of water and while she loves that I'm with her in Nigeria, she feels like I'm never going to make friends. If I don't have friends, I'll never meet new people. If I don't meet new people, I'll never date. If I never date, I'll never have a boyfriend, never get married, never have kids and BINGO!

It always comes back to kids for my mom.

Anyway, I was touched. I know she's worried about me but I do have friends. And I personally like being a fish out of water. I'm used to it. When I'm in the states, I'm the African girl. When I'm in Nigeria, I'm the American girl. I can't change how I'm perceived and I learned a long time ago not to sweat it.

I'm not going to lie. I miss my siblings. I miss my friends. I miss America. I miss fast internet. I miss Whole Foods. God, I MISS TV.

I miss constantly.

At the same time, I get paid really well to do what I love full-time. I'm working on my first book. I'm traveling to places I've dreamed of going to for years. I get to spend time with my family here and learn about a culture that has shaped every aspect of my life.

My point is, fitting in is overrated. So is being comfortable. I would much rather be different, push myself, step outside the proverbial box and live in as many different ways as possible. I lived in the states for most of my life. It's scary living somewhere else. It's scary being surrounded by people who think so differently.

In this case, scary is good. Try scary and see what happens.

Freedom.

I was never meant to be a little girl. I never possessed the light heart of a child. I never learned how to live with the abandon only innocents possess.

To me, actions always had consequences. This left me to grow up a little awkward as I waited for my age to catch up with my mind.

It finally did.

Being a woman is unapologetic. It's liberating. It's wisdom. It's freedom.

I wouldn't trade the years or turn back time for anything.

What do you guys think?

When You Say "Let's Get Married" You Mean Forever, Right?

Forever eva forever eva forever eva?

I mean... Forever is a long time. A long time to be married to the same person. A long time to be sharing your space with another person. Is it even natural?

How well do you ever really know the person you're married to? It always fascinates me; watching those shows about husbands or wives that end up being serial killers. Not because I'm shocked but because this could happen to anyone! You think you know him/her but unless you have access to his/her head, you don't really know what's going on, do you?

Do you know the person you're sleeping next to?

Should you know the person you're sleeping next to? Call me crazy but there is nothing appealing to me about telling all of my secrets, thoughts, shit to another person. It's private and no I don't want to share. Am I the only one who thinks it's unhealthy to share every aspect of your life with another person?

Under the best circumstances, it's all so final and permanent. And how often is marriage under the best circumstances?

Yes I'm Judging You, Extreme Dog Lover.

I love dogs! I love their faces and the way they look when they're trying to tell you something. I love the way their tails wag when they're excited.

With that said, when I went to New York in September, I watched a lady share a cup of gelato with her maltipoo, using the same spoon. And I feel like a line was crossed.

Is this because I'm not a parent? Because I know how some dog owners are; their pets are their children. Which is great? But we can establish that dogs are not people, right?

I hear you extreme dog lovers: "Dogs aren't people. Dogs are BETTER".

Yeah, I agree with you on most days. I love my dog, Scooby. LOVE him. But Scooby has been known to lick chicken shit.

I'm just saying...

Dating In Your Twenties; A Decade Of Figuring It Out.

"Girls" is that show that had all that buzz around it. The show on HBO about single ladies living in New York. The show people were comparing to "Sex and the City" which I think is unfair.  It's a show written by Lena Dunham, a woman in her twenties,  about women in their twenties. Big difference.

I'll have to check it out before making any comments (I've read the complaints about the lack of diversity)  but thinking about the premise of the show had me thinking about me and my friends, most of us single, in our twenties, living all over the place.

A while back, my sister Yemi and one of our mutual besties Viviam were having a bit of a tiff. It was more of a misunderstanding; Yemi thought Viv was becoming a bit boy crazy and Viv thought Yemi was being insensitive.

I was called by each of them, listened as both ladies made valid points.

Yes, as her friend, my sister should be more supportive. But as Yemi pointed out she "couldn't relate to all the boy drama". And that was the problem.

See, Yemi has not had the always amazing, confidence boosting pleasure of dating in her twenties. She met her fiance when she was 20. There's a whole world out there that she will never experience.

So to her, Viv and I (because I too have called her with the drama) were a little pathetic. She would NEVER say it but I know my sister. She's that girl. The girl who was incredibly blessed with a great guy and a healthy relationship early in life and is looking down at the rest of us with non-malicious pity.

But that's okay with me. I didn't do much of anything as a teenager so I'm due for a few f*ck ups.  I'm also a writer who thrives on experiences and dating in your twenties is definitely an experience.

When you're a teen, there's often an awkwardness, an uncertainty about everything. So when you date mistakes, it's unfortunate but can at least be chalked up to a learning experience. When you're in your twenties, you may not be the wisest of the bunch but you should know better. Which makes the mistakes so much more embarrassing. The knowing that something is wrong/bad for you and going ahead and doing it any way, fully aware of your actions, unable to hide behind naivete.

There's also the pressure; both Viv and I are constantly being asked why we haven't found a proper boyfriend to seriously date and ultimately marry. Is this a cultural thing (Viv's Peruvian-American, I'm Nigerian-American)?  Because gone are the days of just dating for the hell of it. Each guy we date is potentially our husbands to our families and we're both only 26.

Also there's the ick factor. Looking back at the mistakes of my teens, I can laugh it off like "I can't believe I spent so much time on that loser" . But the mistakes of my twenties make me cringe. Viv and I spent a good two hours comparing notes on the symptoms we experience when even thinking of some of our mistakes: slight nausea, shudders and a mixture of shame, mortification and disgust. A wave of "I can't believe I let him touch me" grossed-outness washes over us at the mere thought of certain mistakes. Then the question of why. Why oh why oh why?

I guess it's because dating in your twenties is all about figuring it out. We know what's wrong and what's right but we have to be sure it's wrong or right for us so we go ahead and test the waters. It's about growing up, getting over the uncertainty of our teens, learning not to apologize for figuring out what we want.

It's mostly bullshit but so is everything else in life.

Boredom and PhotoBooth

When you spend so much time with another person, you learn how weird they really are.

Now imagine being alone with another person when there's no electricity (it came on later that day).

Boredom brings out the weird.

Very quickly.

Identify This Bird. Please.

I've spent more time than I'd like to admit trying to identify to take a picture of this bird. There's a balcony with a day bed upstairs and this pretty little thing used to sunbathe (I'm guessing) up there. It was blue and orange and smart as hell because it flew away every time I tried to get a decent picture of it.

So I tried Google.


I originally thought it was a Common Kingfisher but they're not common in West Africa ; )


So it's very possible it's a Malachite Kingfisher, a bird more common in this area. But what do I know?

Either way, it's a beautiful bird.

Just Another Day in New York City

Lord, this place is weird.

Quarterlife Crisis?

So I posted a tongue-in-cheek status on Facebook basically asking God for a lottery win or a rich man. Obviously I was joking though in all honesty, I wouldn’t turn my nose up to millions of dollars or a rich man. If I had great chemistry with him. God knows I've dated my share of successful men with personalities that rivaled rocks.

Anyway, some people took my status for what it was: airing of my frustrations through humor.

It’s what I do.

Others, who I know meant well, threw the feminist bible at me. “You are a strong, independent woman”, “You don’t need a man”, “You are female, roar bitch, roar”.

Yes, yes I know I am a strong woman who is capable of moving mountains and reaching the stars blah blah blah.

But I’m tired. *whines*

I've been pushing myself for 8 years and I don't even know what my goal is anymore.

What do you do when the thrill of the hustle is gone?

Putting Away Childish Things

I used to worry about losing my child like view of the world.

My love. I didn't want to suffer from the cynicism that seems

to tint people's outlook on life. But as I myself have gotten

older, I've realized that some things have to be left behind

with your teens. I like to think I've substituted my naivete

with a wisdom that will only deepen with experience. So a lot

of my beliefs have now been tinted with not cynicism but

caution. I know now how it feels to be disappointed in love,

betrayed by friends and witness to cruelty. And while I remain

positive that there is good in most people, I put my hand in

fire fully understanding that I'm willingly burning myself.

I'll never be naive again.

JMO...

Does anyone else find it incredibly pointless when a person declares "FIRST" in the comment section of a post?

I ask myself this every time I visit a blog and peruse the comments section so I have written a letter to those who feel the need to participate in the "first declaration."

Dear First Declarers,

What does one get for being "first"? Is it the gratification of knowing your joblessness paid off? Is it knowing you were able to show the world that you've been waiting more obsessively than anyone else for a new post to pop up so you could validate your life somehow?

Or am I missing the bigger picture?

Please advise.

Best,

Me