Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...

It's been a minute since we've talked. I can honestly say that I'm flummoxed. Let me catch you up... After a brief fling with a Bulgarian (which was kinda fun), he ghosted me. I don't know that I blame him after our one hotel stay when the black gel I use to cover up my gray edges rubbed off on the sheets. It was truly my Rudy Guiliani moment. I'm currently matriculating with a man I met at a bar/bookstore here in Dallas. I call him Barnes & Noble and I like him. However, he claims to be too wounded to entertain love in his life. I say "matriculating" because I can't really say we're dating. Although we see each other at least once a week, he's never made a real romantic move toward me. Ours is more of an intellectual situation where he keeps me in the loop of his life and I try to encourage him to give himself some grace. Several other things are wearing me out, but the final straw came this morning. The first post that came up on my Faceb...

Yep, you read that right. The long-distance "romance" -- such as it was -- between me and Tinderfella has ended. It was going good...until it wasn't. The beginning of the end was when he stopped making me a priority. He would only call me at the end of the day when he'd given himself to everyone else. By the time he got around to me, he was spent. I hate not being a priority in someone's life. When my mom hooked up with my stepfather, I know for a fact he wasn't exactly happy about having me around. But he had no choice because my mom wasn't going to kick me to the curb for him. I always felt like I was the "value added" part of the deal. Because I hated feeling that way, I promised myself that I'd NEVER allow that kind of behavior and treatment in my own relationships. Straight up, though, the real nail in the coffin was much more blatant. We were on the phone when one of his daughters walked into his room. She asked him who he was talking t...

I hate long-distance relationships. Absolutely despise them. So, you ask, why am I currently in one? The short answer is, “I don’t know.” The real answer is, “I don’t know anyone locally that gets me.” Tinderfella is in New York. I am in Texas. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it get this far. Maybe I should’ve nipped it in the bud. But I didn’t. Now I find myself strung out over a man I won’t get to touch until September — IF I’m lucky. With my cycle and every other factor that could exert itself over my situation, I don’t know if we’ll get to see each other then. I don’t like this. I want to kick it with him after work. Maybe hook up and see a movie. Or not. We could cuddle on the couch or discuss the day’s events or just breathe each other’s air. I wanna watch his face light up when he sees me or frown when he gets mad. I want to learn his facial expressions and body language well enough to read joy, peace, anger, and hatred on him. Basically, I want to be with him in a real and meaningfu...

Sometimes I don’t know what to do. There are so many feelings that I’m having right now. For one, I don’t know what do at this point in my career. God told me that my money was in writing. So what did I do all summer? Worked on getting my teacher certification. Mind you, I don’t know that teaching is in my future. I just wanted to keep my options open. Walking by faith doesn’t work like that. I know that, but I let my fear, insecurity, and need to please my mother get in the way. I can admit that freely. I’m human. Now it’s the end of summer and I’m no closer to finishing my book…or my comedy sketches…or anything. The one thing I have been consistent about is working out. I wish I’d been as diligent about my diet. I’ve been doing intermittent fasting, but not as consistently as I should have. While I haven’t lost all the weight I want to lose — not even close — I think I look a little better in my clothes. And then there’s Tinderfella. I love him. I don’t know if it’s right or proper o...