On Dynamic Women

Time to reinvent yourself

This weekend, I attended my gay Colombian friend’s birthday party. I met Mario at run club. The same run club I joined after the disaster that was the Sand Nigga Chronicles. During the party, I met other girls, gays, and a few token straight men. As usual, conversations about dating came up. This seems to be the best way to break the ice with strangers: tell them that I am horny, lonely, and looking for someone to eat my 🐱

The party was at Mario's apartment, and he had a conveniently single straight roommate he introduced me to. We talked, even with the language barrier. You'd be surprised how two sufficiently horny people can overcome a language barrier. DISCLAIMER: when it comes to dealing with men, you have to accept whatever you see. A man could give you the money to fund your ailing mother’s heart operation, and still waste your time. However, it was wild for once being the romantic interest.

There is an essay in my vault called On Being the Romantic Lead. It is about how I imagine being an active love interest in a romantic movie would feel. Something that I have only ever had the misfortune of being a spectator in. During the party, I got a glimpse of what that would feel like. I wore a beautiful green dress, did my hair, put on some make-up, and showed up to have a fun time. After Mario introduced me to Antonio, he was on me like glue. We spent the entire party together. There was this sweet moment—after a few glasses of sangria and some Colombian BBQ—when I stepped away. I was probably updating my friend with a ridiculous voice note about everything going on in the party like it was a matter of national security. When I came back, I saw Antonio chatting with the birthday boy. My name came up. I didn’t need to understand their exact words. However, I knew Antonio was asking for help pronouncing my very foreign name. That tiny moment, the care in it, hit me.

Earlier that morning, I was also doing my other ritual of meticulously cleaning my apartment with African gospel music blasting in the background. As I tried my best to separate my old pile of laundry from my even older pile of laundry, I found a sock. A sock that belonged to a math nigga. We couldn’t find it one day after having sex, and neither of us seemed too concerned about it. I had even given him something in return, a single note from my country. As I looked at the sock, it hurt. He was the first man who saw the full range of my neurosis: my ridiculous ambitious, even more ridiculous confidence, borderline tyrannical ideas about society, and unspeakable religious beliefs. He saw all these things and he didn’t run away. I was naked, both physically and metaphorically, and I felt like he liked what he saw. This feeling changed my life.

I was raised to think that If I were ever too much, men would run away. That is true, but incomplete. No one told me being myself could actually draw some people closer. Still, math nigga found impressive new ways to disappoint me. However, unlike my previous romantic dalliances, I have the courage to cut my losses early. As I held that sock, I thought to myself “I will get rid of this when I am ready.” But in an instant that felt like the universe was handing me the cheat codes to life, it hit me: “We do things before we are ready”. So, I grabbed that sock, and other sexual paraphernalia, and threw them in the trash. I also wore the dress that I got for my first date to the party later that day. I knew that even if Math Nigga would disappoint me, which he did from early on, that green dress would be used for another occasion. And that occasion was the birthday party of a fabulous gay man.

Nothing is probably going to happen between me and Antonio, but this situation reminded me just how dynamic, and often magical, my life can be. Simply by showing up for life, new friends—and even a potential love interest—appeared out of nowhere. I could never have predicted that in a party full of gays, I would meet and have a date with the one heterosexual man there. I took the mess that was the Sand Nigga Chronicles and turned it into something fruitful — becoming skinny, making new friends, and putting myself out in the dating market. I cannot help but feel excited about my life. For the first 25 years, life happened to me. But now, I’m happening to life. I show up for the things I love—even when I’m late—because I will always show up for myself. My life is about to be so much more dynamic than I ever imagined, and I cannot wait to experience it.

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This whole situation reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend. Since she’s a recurring character in this newsletter, let’s call her Becka.

Becka and I were dissecting a recent phone call I had with our former classmate, Anita — triple Ivy, MBA consulting girly. She has always been a titan in intelligence and work ethic. We hadn’t spoken in about three years. The last time we spoke, I recommended that she expand her options to include men of all races —because that’s what the eligible Black MBA men were doing. Fast forward to today, and she’s engaged to a unicorn of a Black man in venture capital. Before she dropped the news about her engagement, I spent the first hour ranting about my issues with the institution of marriage. My take isn’t the usual feminist critique of unequal domestic labor—it’s simpler: You can’t consent to forever.

I’m at that age where everyone I went to school with is getting married. It’s surreal seeing the kid who had developmental delays or the mean girl queen bee posing in their expensive wedding outfits in front of friends and family. There’s a whole backstory to these people that their partners might never know. Still, I’m not as cynical about marriage as Becka is. She’s been through it, saw what was on the other side, and briskly exited. Now, she’s horrified at how clueless she was when she signed those papers, legally, financially, spiritually, and traditionally shackling herself to a "good" man... permanently.

There’s a tyranny in marriage that Anita just couldn’t grasp. This highly intelligent woman didn’t see the point of a prenup because, well, he was the one. This was her only marriage. She’d chosen a good man, and as far as she was concerned, those other women whose marriages crumbled? They just chose poorly. And she wasn’t being condescending—she genuinely believed life would play out the way she wanted it to, not how it often does.

As Becka and I dissected this, we realized that the tyranny we see in forcing two people into a lifelong commitment is a source of comfort for some. Becka nailed it: "Life can be dynamic, but then there are dynamic women." These are the women who fearlessly switch careers, knowing they can reinvent themselves. They love fiercely and leave when it's no longer serving them because they know there's always something better ahead. They buck tradition, ignore social norms, and stay true only to that little voice inside. They are dynamic.

Anita is a champion, no doubt. Coming from West Africa, she used her brilliance to become a triple Ivy grad, excel at top consulting firms, and then pivot to a better-suited industry. But she’s not dynamic. She needs the straight and narrow. She can’t fathom that even in a marriage—a “group project” with a man—things can go wrong no matter how hard she tries.

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So, how can we become more dynamic? Before we answer that, we need to ask what it means to be dynamic. The word “dynamic” comes from the Greek δυναμικός (dunamikós), meaning “powerful,” derived from δύναμις (dúnamis), or "power," which ultimately comes from δύναμαι (dúnamai), meaning "I am able."

On a macro scale, the most dynamic country in the world is the United States. The American empire is built on the ethos of westward expansion and the pursuit of opportunity. Many failed, but those who succeeded laid the foundation for what became the greatest empire ever. In our personal lives, being dynamic means exiting what no longer serves us in pursuit of greater opportunities.

So, who is a dynamic woman?

She embraces the idea that she'll live this one life in multiple ways, learning to surf whatever waves come her way. She's okay with dismantling her old self to create a new one. She's always looking ahead, expecting greatness. These are some of the mindset shifts that we can make to respond with the vigor, creativity, and confidence required to contend with life.

Stop being delusional

First, we gotta see the world as it is, not how we wish it was, and adapt. Your industry might tank. Your parent might get sick. You might fall out of love with your spouse, for reasons beyond anyone's control. Hell, you might wake up one day and realize your entire life plan needs a major overhaul.

Life will be dynamic, whether you like it or not.

I have a running joke with Becka that Jesus took a sabbatical from writing our lives, and now our stories are being written by an angel on the first day of her internship. But honestly, there's no point stressing because life throws curveballs constantly. In fact, what ends up happening is what you least expect.

Never stop being a learner

I remember watching the Beyoncé Coachella documentary, and she talked about having to be a learner again after giving birth. If Beyoncé, the Michael Jackson of our generation, has to humble herself and start from scratch, who are we to complain for having to do the same?

You are meant to evolve

You’re like a Pokémon, an Eevee, or better yet, a Ditto. You’re supposed to have many sides, to adapt and evolve as needed. You’re not a static thing people can figure out easily. Embrace your complexity, your contradictions, and the ever-evolving nature of who you are.

Trust the process of reinvention

Yeah, you'll take Ls. It'll be heartbreaking at times. Life sometimes hits us with a truck, and we're meant to find the grace to learn to walk again.

Audacity Maxx

Ask whoever for whatever the fuck you want.

Best,

Coffy.

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