And that's the dude I turned The Rock down for.
But rather than wallowing in misery and regret, I became a slut. Not a slut in the numerical sense, though. Let's just say, I lost any sort of cautionary discretion when it came to sleeping with someone before really getting to know them. Yes, even less discretion than cohabiting with someone within weeks of meeting. Put it this way: if I knew your name and you made me "tingle"... I was down. Being a slut wasn't a conscious decision, mind you. It just happened. All those self-help books I delved into after leaving my EX-BF convinced me to honor the needs of my "pleasure center" aka the second chakra. And so I did... with insurmountable pleasure. What I didn't expect from my sexual liberation was for the strength of my active subconscious to continue attracting men into my life who undervalued and disrespected me just as much as my EX BF. The only difference was, this time I wasn't the "girlfriend". I had unknowingly and unwittingly become "the other woman" - "a little sumthin' on the side" -which was an equally shameful position to be in.
I'll never forget Playa #1. A toe-sucking California-based rigger that I met while dancing on a hip-hop tour. He had strong hands, thick forearms and a body that begged for my tongue. Mmmhmm... I remember the way he'd sneak peeks of me from backstage in a way that constituted foreplay, and all the US hotels that served as sexual playgrounds for the duration of tour. What I don't remember, though, was much verbal communication. But it didn't even cross my mind at the time because our silent flirtation and his greedy smile spoke volumes. Dude was into me! Plus, this previously unexplored territory of sex with no strings attached was all this girl needed to validate my "sexy" again. And the post-tour phone sex kept my second chakra thriving; even from long distance. In fact, the distance made our romance more exciting and adventurous.
When his rigging gig with a legendary soul and R&B band brought him to NYC, he got me backstage access to see them do their thing at Radio City Music Hall. Under normal circumstances, I'd be psyched to witness history onstage but I was so distracted by the little show inside my head; complete with salacious mental images of him; on top of... underneath... and behind me. Oh, and there's nothing more affirming than the immediate manifestation of one's thoughts. Let's just say, it was a memorable night in his mid-town hotel. CUT TO: Weeks later I got a call from one of my LA sister-friends. As one of the dancers on the hip-hop tour where we met, she was privy to our lusty romance and all giddy like your girls get when they see you happily gettin' some. "Keex", she said, "Are you sitting?" The gravity of her voice and the corresponding weight of my heart deposited my ass into the nearest chair. "What?" I asked tentatively as my insides curdled with anxiety. (pregnant pause) "Playa #1 is engaged!". Speechless. Come to find out, this mutha fucker was engaged to some LA dancer chick who could've been my damn doppelganger! And not only that; but she was one of the dancers performing onstage that night at Radio City Music Hall while I was in the wings conjuring up new positions to fuck her man! How'd he finagle that shit? I figured there had to be some type of misunderstanding or at least an explanation. So, I put the needs of my pleasure center on hold to confront my long-distance lover with the power of my fifth chakra, the communication center. There was no way in hell I was gonna be somebody's "other woman". I still may have been searching for my identity and self-worth, but I knew damn well I deserved more than that. Plus, I was far too familiar with the devastating and belittling effects of being the woman scorned and I'd be damned to contribute to somebody else's misery like that.
But, like any skilled playa and pathological liar, he quickly orchestrated a violin story of a broken engagement and a broken heart, followed by a dozen long-stemmed roses delivered to my Brooklyn apartment. This was far too much drama for me so I called it quits. This was supposed to be sex with no strings attached. That's it! Nevertheless, even though our relationship was more physical than emotional, it was still a blow to my ego and my faith in men.
Onto the next hip-hop tour and Playa #2: A Black, Chinese-speaking martial arts expert working as a stunt choreographer. That alone was hot. But it was the engaging conversation that got me into his hotel room. As he told me stories about living in China, learning the language and shooting martial arts flicks, I felt this magnetic charge pulse through my body and render me completely intoxicated by his bad-assness. All I could focus on were his full lips articulating words I could no longer differentiate. His voice was reduced to a stimulating, steady vibration that was turning me on to the point that I lost any ability to contribute to the conversation. The next thing I knew, our lips connected with so much fervor and intensity it was as if we were making up for the lost time the Universe had kept us apart. We couldn't seem to get our clothes off fast enough before he suckered me with his pleading eyes and "just the tip, baby?". I say "suckered" but I knew exactly where that was going and didn't care. I was still thinking with my second chakra and our chemistry was so intense that I thought "fuck it". And so I did, and continued to do so in hotel rooms and tour buses until that fated day. Yes, the day we passed each other at catering services when he casually announced, "Just so you know, my girl will be at the next venue." And so she was. Mutha fucker had a girlfriend! This time, I didn't even get to confront him with the power of my fifth chakra communication center because he totally and completely avoided me for the rest of the tour. We never spoke again.
It wasn't hard to recognize my uncanny ability to attract liars and cheaters into my life. As my ego seemingly took pleasure in masochistic behavior, my core sense of unworthiness, self-doubt and shame became blatantly apparent. What I was resonating out into the world with my slutty behavior were thoughts that I didn't value myself and I didn't deserve love. But that wasn't the person I wanted to be.