Every Day I'm Hustling Page 16

  I stood up, smoothed my pants, and walked over.

  Curtis looked up at me. And his face broke into a huge smile. That pretty, authentic smile I had loved when we first met. That smile melted my heart.

  “Happy New Year,” I said softly.

  “Happy New Year,” he said.

  “Can I have a hug?”

  “Of course,” he said. He stood to hug me, then pulled me in to sit at his table. His boys looked like they didn’t know what was going to happen. There was one with a black baseball cap.

  “You’ve been bad,” Curtis said.

  He was referring to my Instagram. I wanted to take the bait, explain to him exactly why I had to go off on him. But I listened to my better angels. I just turned to everyone at his table. “This is family,” I said. “Regardless of what we go through, we are family.”

  He took a long look at me. “Yep.” He sighed. “First wife.”

  Baseball Cap guy fell back in his seat and took off his hat to wave his face. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “I had no idea, Vivica. I had no idea what was gonna happen. Thank you, God. We’re all good.”

  Curtis and I made small talk about our families for a minute, and I said I had to go.

  “We need to stop this,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said.

  This was the fighting, but it was also the push and pull. By consistently reacting to him, I was only extending my grief. Enough.

  As I walked back to my table, I let out a sigh. That was the right thing to do, I told myself. Good girl.

  Whether I had been holding on to love or holding on to anger, I had to learn to let go. I was finally FREE.

  LESSON ELEVEN

  STOP FALLING IN LOVE WITH A SIX-PACK AND A SMILE

  As I write this, I am single. As your sister girl, I will not lie to you: I don’t want to be single. But I’d rather be single and happy than be with someone and unhappy. I say “as I write this” because I have hope. I have asked the Lord for greater blessings than a man—my work, my family’s health—and He has come through. So I have made a conscious effort to wait for my king to share the castle I have built. I am open to adjoining castles, too.

  You know that I have had a reputation for taking in the young ones. A few years ago I had to make a conscious effort to stop falling in love with a six-pack and a smile. I joke that I used to date body parts. I also just got tired of being treated poorly. When you’re younger, you like the bad boys, but when you grow up, the bad boys just get on your nerves.

  When I am out with my girls, I always get the young guys coming up to me. A warning to all you powerful women who can buy your own drinks: If a guy approaches and has nothing to offer you but his youth, he is going to play the angle of taking you down a peg. Each thinks he is the player who invented the trick of acting disrespectful to get your attention. One guy asked me a question, and as I began to explain, he cut me off.

  “Blah blah blah,” he said. “Why don’t you just answer my question?”

  Excuse me?

  “Okay, you’re two seconds away from never talking to me again,” I said. “And you better work on that tone.” It was an immediate turnoff and I kicked him to the curb. If he is coming over here still smelling of Similac, then he best show some respect.

  I met this one incredibly hot young guy recently, and I thought, Maybe I should just screw him and have a fun night. But I knew exactly how this movie would play. Same script, different lead actor. My girlfriends are so funny. “Do the maintenance,” they say. “You need that maintenance sex to keep everything running smoothly.”

  Trust me, in my day, I had a whole lot of maintenance going on. But now I feel that sharing yourself with someone is more than just an act. If I allow someone in my space and in my spirit as I share my body with that man, it’s got to mean something.

  This shift in my thinking happened after I ended an engagement to a younger man in 2011. My last six-pack and a smile. I knew for a while we weren’t going to work out, but I still felt I had to go through with the wedding. My sister, Sug, was one of the only people I confided in. I told her flat-out that I felt trapped.

  “Oh God, what am I gonna do,” I said. “And what are people gonna say?”

  “You’re miserable,” she said.

  “But I got the dress.” This seemed important at the time.

  “Stop it, Angie,” she said. “Don’t do this.”

  She saved me. I’d fallen for that peer pressure again and said I was gonna get married. I thought I had to go through with it. A deal’s a deal, I thought. Sug gave me the strength to walk a different path.

  For once, I decided to take a break from jumping from relationship to relationship. First I had to find out if it was even okay for me to be alone. Even though I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, still as a girl I was always saying, “I want to have a boyfriend,” or I would find someone to make out with for my ego: “Look who I’m messing around with, everybody!”

  Now I decided I was going to date me for a while. Treat myself and share my success with me for a bit instead of seeing my riches light up someone else’s life. I remember standing in the mirror, smoothing my dress, and saying, “Where am I at?”

  So I did the work of examining myself. I looked at all my failed relationships and realized that the common denominator was me. I also saw other patterns. Like my obsessive need to be self-reliant. I have always been determined to be my own provider. I like having my own stuff. Like my mother, I don’t want anyone holding anything over my head. My worst nightmare is some man saying, “You know I gave that to you…” No, you didn’t.

  So I unconsciously chose men who were in absolutely no danger of providing for me. I inherited my mother’s work ethic, but she also—inadvertently and directly—taught me to approach relationships from a place of wariness. Not only have I been afraid to give up control and thus have the rug pulled out from under me, I have simply been fearful of heartbreak. My father hung the moon for me, but it is a true fact that he was my mother’s first love and she never, ever got over him.

  I have watched my mother carry that all my life, so I have a severe freaking allergy to feeling disappointed in someone. I’ve stayed guarded with men so it wouldn’t happen to me. The second that I am close to feeling too much and risking getting hurt like my mother, I start booking flights to get the hell out of there.

  *   *   *

  As I resolve to wait until the right man comes along, I have to acknowledge that it’s tough out there, isn’t it? Guys, you’ve gotten spoiled. You used to court us girls. Now girls are running after guys instead of letting men earn us. In the wild, when the animal wants to get the female’s attention, he does all his tricks. The peacock gets up and shows some feathers. The gorilla beats his chest. Nowadays, all the guys need is a wallet and the girls go crazy. These guys nowadays are so lazy that they forget to romance you.

  I had this email thing going with a guy I met on a plane. It seemed promising. We met when we were seated next to each other. What caught my eye? First of all, it was a brother flying in first class with no ring on his finger. Let’s just say that kind of thing stands out. He was tall and had a great smile. And he seemed like a real man, not some overgrown boy.

  He didn’t recognize me at first. When I travel, I wear a baseball cap and no makeup. We started talking about traveling, and I mentioned that I was going to see my nephew who just joined the military …

  “Oh, I used to be in the military,” he said.

  That broke the ice, so I talked more, thanking him for his service. He paused for a minute.

  “Are you Vivica Fox?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  It let us connect as human beings. People expect me to be Vivica Fox all the time, and it seemed like we got past that right quick. When we landed, he asked if I wanted help with my carry-on. I flashed on something I was told at a women’s conference I attended in London. This woman got up there and said, “I had to l
earn to be a little bit more submissive.” I will tell you that my initial response was “Screw you.” But she said to just try to let men help me. So I said to myself, Just try, Vivica.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That would be nice.”

  He then had a guy bring all my luggage to my car, had it loaded up, and then tipped the guy. He was a gentleman.

  “I’d like to stay in touch,” he said.

  I gave him my email, because the phone just seemed too personal. Usually I’d jump in the shallow end headfirst. “Here’s my number,” I’d say. “Come! Stay with me! Be with me!” Nope. I made that promise to myself not to do that anymore.

  It went okay. I got excited when I saw his name in my in-box. It gave me butterflies, and for me if I don’t have instant butterflies—that little “Oooh”—it’s not interesting. But you have to stay vigilant. Because guys, when they want something from you, they can BS you to get to it. You can date someone for months and then all of a sudden you meet the real guy. “There you are,” you say. “I thought you’d be coming. And there you are.”

  He was emailing me on the regular, but then he disappeared over Thanksgiving weekend. Four days, nothing. He said he lost his phone. Now, when a man leaves the house, he has his wallet, his keys, and his phone. He forgets his wallet, he’ll get by. Forgets his keys, he’ll find a way in. But his phone? The man will march right on back and get that phone. So it was suspect that he didn’t get a replacement, but also weird that he didn’t just get on a computer to email me.

  He didn’t really get why I thought it was a little rude and suspect to go from emailing me twice a day to nothing at all.

  Here’s the deal: If you are a grown-ass person like me, you don’t want to get entangled in the loose ends that your potential boyfriend or girlfriend has not tied up. I love my sisters way too much to get in the middle of anything, and I cannot have someone putting me at risk for getting blasted on social media: “Vivica Fox is trying to ruin my marriage.” Nope.

  I was born at night, but not last night.

  *   *   *

  So many girls tell me the same thing: “I can’t meet a quality guy.” I was in Houston a couple of weekends ago for a women’s expo. I did a motivational speech, and during the Q&A, this young lady stood up and right away she asked me for dating advice.

  “Well, what type of man are you looking for?” I asked.

  She was ready with a whole checklist, right down to salary requirements. He had to be fit, no kids, career-driven, handsome.

  “So you want Prince Charming,” I said.

  “Yes!” she said.

  “Then let me ask you this,” I said. “What are you doing to meet this man? Because it sounds to me like you’re waiting for this guy to just come and find you. That’s not gonna happen.”

  There was a police officer standing near me for security, a gorgeous black man, and I could tell he was listening intently.

  “You gotta learn to go to different places to meet different kind of men,” I continued. “Go to the environments where the type of man you say you want actually congregate.”

  “Like a bar?” she asked.

  “Think more strategically,” I said. “You don’t want to be at a bar where a bunch of finance dudes are standing around getting drunk with each other. You might hook up with one of them, but that’s not going anywhere.”

  She looked confused, so I broke it down. “This man you want to meet?” I said. “He golfs. He plays tennis. He’s in a running club.”

  I could see the light turning on her head. She had this cardboard cutout of a guy in her head just showing up—his life beginning when he saw her face. It never occurred to her that he might actually be out there, you know, living his life and not hopelessly searching for her!

  “I should take golf lessons then,” she said.

  “Look, you won’t be the first person to realize that successful men golf,” I replied. “So don’t bother with the silly lessons or sailing classes unless you really want to learn. It will be all women looking for men, trust me. Sign up for a cute little fun run. Or check out the driving range. A bucket of balls will cost you at most ten dollars. A small investment can have a big return.”

  “I can do that,” she said.

  I noticed the police officer do a quick nod in agreement.

  “Yes, you can,” I said. “But seriously, just try going to a really fabulous restaurant on your own and buy yourself a drink at the bar. Dress up like you would for a first date with this person you have in mind, and don’t show up looking like the thirst trap. Guys are gonna notice. And if you notice an attractive man doesn’t have a ring and he’s by himself, why don’t you offer to buy him a drink? Don’t wait for a man to do something. If you are interested in someone, ask him to dinner.”

  The police officer couldn’t take it and had to join in. “That’s good advice, Vivica!” he said. “That would get my attention.”

  It would get any man’s attention, so just choose what man you want. This young woman put an emphasis on the guy’s bank account, so I tailored the advice to her. But if you’re saying, “Oh God, I don’t care how much he makes, I’m just tired of meeting jerks,” well then, think about where nice, civic-minded guys congregate. They volunteer for charities. They get involved in political campaigns and initiatives.

  This isn’t about becoming someone you’re not just to meet a man. You can’t pretend to be a golf fan or feign passion for a local cause if your heart isn’t in it. But looking into these experiences will give you a better sense of what attracts the men that you want to attract.

  I gave that young woman in Houston one last piece of advice, which I will share with you. Get your face out of your damn phone. Look around and pay attention. When you are staring at a phone because you want to kill time or not appear awkward in public, you are telling any and all potential partners that whatever is on that phone deserves more attention than them. Do you want to miss out on a spontaneous connection because you were half reading some inspirational meme about getting what you want in life?

  *   *   *

  That guy I met in first class was at least a grown-up, so I feel I’m on the right track. I find a lot of my girlfriends are unlucky in love because they date the same man over and over again. Each time they think, Now, this one I can change! But you can’t force people to be who they’re not meant to be. If you think you can train a man to be nicer to you, you’re dreaming. Find you a gentleman and don’t waste time with him.

  So what’s your six-pack? Think about the guys you’ve dated or the guys you’ve pursued if you’ve been unlucky in love. Answer these questions for each guy:

  Name:

  The draw:

  The pluses:

  The minuses:

  What I tried to change about him:

  Time I knew it was over:

  Time it actually ended:

  Now look at it all together. There’s valuable information here. The draw tells you what you were looking for. If we’re being honest, the answers will sometimes be “I needed to have a boyfriend to feel successful,” or “He was hot,” or even “He asked me out.”

  The pluses are obviously the good qualities. They can be superficial, like “He was sexy,” or deep, “He wanted kids.” The minuses are what we now know we need to avoid in the future.

  My favorite is looking at what you tried to change about him. If you are the type to date fixer-uppers, this is where we get into it. I’ve been with mean men who I thought I could turn into gentlemen. I have girlfriends who date cheaters time and again, and think they are going to magically cure them. The person you wanted to change him into is the person you should have been looking for in the first place.

  And then we look at time. This is about trusting our instincts and not wasting time. Because you know when it’s over, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying. It can be sobering to look at the length of time between when you realized this wouldn’t end well and when you or the ot
her person actually did something about it. Years can go by, years that you could have been happy.

  It’s hard to break that cycle and risk going it alone. Don’t get me wrong, I still get butterflies. If I didn’t, I’d be dead. My crushes run all the colors of the rainbow, and they’re fun to have. But I don’t want to settle.

  I can see the pros and cons to living alone. I wake up every day and can do whatever I want. But some days, like today, I wake up and I would like somebody here to share God’s blessings with. So I wait.

  PART FOUR

  LOOK AMAZING AT ANY AGE OR BUDGET

  LESSON TWELVE

  DRESS FOR THE LIFE YOU DESERVE

  I was doing an interview with Tracey Edmonds on Extra a little while back, rocking this really cool St. John Knits military jacket with my own jeans. Tracey told me she loved my Jimmy Choo booties.

  “Who’s your stylist?” she asked.

  “Oh, her name is Vivica Fox,” I said, laughing. “Write that down because I think she is going places. V-I-V-I-C-A…”

  It’s true. I love to shop, and I’m not paying a stylist to have all that fun. I know what works for my body and I know value. I began honing my shopping prowess when I started out as an actress. I had to shop smart: My budget was near zero. So in between premieres and fancy dinners, I would hit Goodwill and scour consignment shops. I became a bona fide expert in hunting down very gently used designer clothes. When you hear an actress on the red carpet say she is wearing “vintage,” it doesn’t necessarily mean she picked it out of Coco Chanel’s temperature-controlled couture walk-in hope chest. It just means someone wore it before her. Julia Roberts and Penelope Cruz went up to the stage to accept their Oscars wearing used Valentino and Balmain, respectively. They killed it!

  I needed to find designer labels not out of a sense of vanity, but because early on I figured out how the red carpet game worked. At first, I would buy something from Bebe that I thought was pretty. And I’d get all dressed up, pose for a million photos, and talk to every reporter on that press line. Then I would look at the weeklies and there would be no me. I would be like, But I thought that was cute?!