Exes: How Many Of Us Have Them…

Exes suck. Period.

Some just don’t know when to shut up!

Some just make you wonder what you were smoking/drinking when you started something with them. 

or go gray earlier than you planned to.

And with my last two exes….

My legs won’t move fast enough.

I’m thankful that out of my 5 serious relationships [yeah, I’ve been around /end sarcasm], only 1 lives in the United States.

So you’re thinking to yourself, “Well, where in the hell is the rest of them???”

Let’s see. With the exception of 1, all of my exes are international. Bonus: They don’t live here so no awkward encounters!!!

1 lives in Africa.

1 lives in Japan.

1 lives in London.

1 lives in Canada. 

First up: my African ex.

Met him at Xavier [pronounced -zav-ier, bebeh] University in New Orleans. Those New Orleanians will skin you alive if you say that school name wrong.

I still have nightmares about that accent. I even adopted it for a couple of months. But what really scares me is what Lil Wayne used to look like.

Self: Lil Wayne, do you really think that women are attracted to you? Especially your baby mamas?

Self: I didn’t think so.

I remember meeting him, Juvenile, and Master P when “New Orleans music” was actually about something. Supposedly.


Antywho, back to my African ex. He was really sweet, treated me right, etc. But also controlling. Didn’t help that he was the jealous type either. I don’t get that ish. How can you be jealous of something, or even someone, especially when you have something wonderful in your life waiting for you?

I don’t have time to deal with some controlling, insecure, jealous dude. That’s my number one turn off. If you’re not man enough to say “I know what I have at home, why am I so jealous” then you need to go find yourself.

Either you’re secure in your relationship and yourself, like moi,

or you go kick rocks.

Like him.

What set him off was when I was accepted into the Flight Awareness Summer Training Program in Deleware. This was 2004 where I had to learn how to fly a Cessna plane SOLO within 3 weeks. No pressure, right?

I completed my program, completely happy

and come back home to find this guy is giving me the silent treatment because I didn’t answer his call when I was flying solo.

Hello, dumbass!

I’m in a PLANE. You know, that big metal bird in the sky. I rather not see Jesus unless it’s my time, ya know.

So he had to go.

My Korean ex. He is probably the only one I don’t hate out of all of my exes. I guess it helps that we were friends first. Isn’t there a saying about lovers and friends? I’m too lazy to go look.

My Canadian ex. He was a piece of work. How do you say that you’re 22 when in reality, your ass is almost 30?! I may have been 19, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Stuff just didn’t add up and it only got worse with him.

First he lied about his age.

Then he lied about going to a friend’s party where they were giving out iPhones. Do I look like I really care about an iPhone?

Then he said he had a Pokemon and Beanie Babies collection.

Add insult to injury, he even lied about his job!! I can only imagine going from a “college student” to a “marine biologist studying in Hawaii.” All within a 6 week period. In February.

I just can’t with liars.

Which brings us up to the two notorious ones: the London ex and my last one, the Memphis ex, also known as Asshat.

London ex thought he could impress me because he had an accent. Um… yeah… in case you haven’t noticed, I have one too…

I can’t lie, though. It did work. At first. This ex cheated on me. With my so-called friend. How do I know? I walked in on them. So I did what any other normal woman would do. I whooped his and her ass.

He was lucky to only have a fractured wrist and a cracked rib. She was lucky to still have hair on her head and a broken arm.

Because of my London ex, my views on relationships were tarnished. But I said to myself, all guys aren’t evil like him. They just can’t be.

Until I met my Memphis ex, Asshat. I would put him on blast, but

1. I don’t do stuff like that.

2. He shares a first name with my cousin and my cousin deserves better than that.

This Negro here really did a number on my mind. I had to have been at a low point dealing with him.

I NEVER have a problem attracting guys. Never.

But not just any guy can approach me.

  • Don’t blow your car horn at me. My name is not “beep beep” or “Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep”.
  • Don’t lean out the passenger side window trying to holla at me.
  • Don’t EVER approach me without your pants pulled up and a belt holding them in place.
  • Don’t think that by sending your “friend” over to see if I have a man will get you in my good graces. Your “friend” will have gotten nothing but exercise walking towards and away from me. The answer is no.
  • If you see me in a store, don’t stalk me by hiding behind aisles and scaring me half to death, because you think I’m “cute”.
  • Don’t stalk me in the parking lot. That isht is creepy.
  • Don’t approach me with “Hey shawty, you lookin’ good” or “Hey baby” or my personal fav, “Damn, look at dat ass!” You’ll be lucky to still be standing with a line like that, m’dear.

Sigh. At some point in my life, this has happened to me a minimum of two times. Some in the same day.

My first name ain’t baby. It’s Danielle. Not that you’ll ever get a real name out of me. So don’t go changing my government name.

Asshat claimed “that he wasn’t like these other cats that I’ve been messing with.” Really.

So I said, after time has passed, hmm… he passes my mental check list. I’ll give him a chance.

Mistake number one.

I felt deep down in my heart that he cheated on me.

So I left. And he came crawling back. Begging. Pleading. Please baby, please, take me back. I took him back.

Mistake number two.

Four months into the relationship, he accuses me of cheating on him with my GAY friend. Seriously. Are you that insecure that you would really think that a GAY MAN would be interested in me. Hell, I had to fight the gay man to keep him away from MY man.


Mistake number 3.

I remember in August 2010 he asked me to marry him.

Knowing what I know now, if I did, I would be dead because he would have beaten me to death.

I’m no fool. I’m better than that. And I’m much stronger than what I was just this past January, when I left him for good.


All I know is, I bet not see him. Because if I do…

he will be the recipient of 3 1/2 years of frustration and resentment. And I’m not a violent person.

So now, my views on marriage and relationships and dating are forever changed. I don’t think all men are dogs, but I know I will never, NEVER, mess with another Memphian again.

I’m too angry to do a daily dose of vital information. If you know someone who is in an abusive relationship, please, talk to them. It may be a matter of life and death.


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