Why you bother me when you know you don't want me? In loving memory of Tasha, the girl I used to be.
The popularity of Insecure, especially amongst black Millennials, comes as no surprise to this (old) black millennial. The HBO show is relatable on almost every level and much like Sex and the City it provides a character for every woman to claim as "her". In each episode I see myself. I've been Molly struggling to express myself in therapy, I've been Issa unhappy and unfulfilled at a thankless job, I've been the bougie friend who thinks she's better than everyone because she's in a seemingly successful relationship, and as much as I hate to admit it, when I was REALLY insecure, I was Tasha.
We all know a Tasha. And if we're being completely honest with ourselves most of us have been a Tasha. She's the girl who's too cute to deal with the mess that she does, she's too nice in not so nice situations, and she's agreeable in every way because she's been told to be agreeable. Everything is cool with her. He didn't call when he said he would? Cool. Forgot about that date y'all scheduled? Cool. He can never hang out in the light of day? Cool. She's cool because cool girls don't stress dudes out and cool girls get chose. Except for when they don't. Because despite being cool with all the ridiculousness she's also desperately extra. Taking selfies on first dates to post on Instagram and constantly trying to have the "what are we?" conversation without actually having it are hardly the way to anyone's heart. And yet Tasha perseveres. She tricks herself into believing that the dude giving her the goods Friday through Sunday is "The One" worthy of her time and attention and over looks all of the fuck boy qualities because he's a nice guy meaning that he's not the most egregious asshole she's ever met because Tasha's standards are dumb low.
If you're up in your feelings right about now it's probably because you've been a Tasha. If I could recoup the hours that I spent chasing dudes that were clearly not interested in me or only interested in certain parts of me I probably wouldn't know what to do with myself. I would waste so much time and energy projecting my ideas of what a man should be onto every guy I met to the point that I just knew that we were meant to be. Cute, check. Job, check. Car, check. He has a pulse, check. Well, if he fills out all of those boxes, then he'd obviously be great in a relationship and he's clearly meant for me. What I didn't realize was that I was looking for validation from outside sources instead of finding it in myself. I didn't feel worthy of my own love so I sought it from others who weren't willing to give it to me but pretended that they were. They were emotionally available to the point that I felt a connection but not enough for me to get comfortable in which ultimately left me feeling empty and dumb as hell.
I wish I could tell you the exact moment that I decided to stop letting fuck boys live in my mental space but I can't. I just got tired of being tricked by myself and by them. That's when I stopped running to the phone every time it rang and accepting every invitation to chill. It was freeing. It was about as satisfying as Tasha informing Lawrence that he's been wearing the "good guy" costume this whole time.