The Dream’s Used to Be…AKA How Women Kill Good Relationships Every Day Through Sheer Laziness

As I was trolling through Necole Bitchie’s site, I came across The Dream’s new track “Used to Be”, where he reflects on his failed marriage with Christian Milian—BBM sad face.  Prior to hearing this song, I had my mind made up about The Dream and the kind of spouse I thought he would be.  I thought he was arrogant, selfish and unsupportive (granted, I don’t know him, but I can definitely run with a tabloid story and make it his entire life story).  I was Team Christina all day. 

Then I heard the song and while I’m not convinced that he’s a complete victim in the scenario, I can kind of see his point.  In the song he laments about how Christina dropped the ball and basically gave up on their marriage.  I exhaled loudly when listening to it, because I thought, “Oh no, not another one of these.”  By “these” I meant another instance where a woman jumps through hoops and tiger sharks to get a man and then when she finally does, she thinks the hard part is done, mission accomplished.  Wrong.

Now, I’m clearly no relationship expert as my lack of a relationship status would imply, but I have a pretty good amount of common sense if I do say so myself.  Whenever I’m with my girlfriends and we talk about men, we’re so quick to talk about all they have to go through for us to give them the time of day, but it’s not often that we talk about what’s necessary to keep our men—and keep them happy.  This is not to day that my friends don’t know the work that is necessary to keep a relationship fresh, they do and they’re willing to do that work for the most part.  I can tell by watching their interactions with their significant others that I have one or two who are clueless and/or lazy.  I pray for those one or two every night.

For the women who are reading this and are thinking, “Work?!?!  What work is she talking about?” tisk, tisk, tisk;  shame on you if you’re over the age of 19.  I’m not talking about cooking all his meals, cleaning his stanky underwear and wiping your man’s drool (especially if this man is not your husband).  That’s not really the ideal for every couple post 1950.  I AM talking about doing what you need to do to keep your spouse intrigued, amused and content. 

Express interest in his hobbies, his work and his loved ones.  When he comes home, ask him about his day and then (this is the kicker)…actually listen when he talks.  Still go out and do things, even if you’re exhausted from a long day of pointless conference calls and workplace B.S.  In The Dream’s song he references how Christina stopped dressing up for him.  Women do this a lot.  When we met homeboy, the face was constantly beat to perfection (I’m not talking about me here, mainly my friends who wear makeup) and the hair and outfit are always fresh and fabulous.  After a couple months of being boyfriend/girlfriend or hubby/wifey (I gagged as I typed that BTW), she starts rocking sweats to dinner and wearing flannel two-piece sets to bed.  Boo!

I need to interject here and say that I do all of the things mentioned above that I just cautioned against.  The difference with me, and my approach, is that I don’t front in the beginning.  I’m very much a believer that I can be sexy in flannel and the guy usually knows this on date #1.  I know my friends and exes would read this post and accuse me of straight story telling if I didn’t make this disclaimer.  I’m not saying that I’m a fashion model and porn star for my spouse.  What I am saying is that I don’t switch things up after I get comfortable.  With me, you know what you’re getting from jump, if that makes sense.

Ok so back to The Dream and the unfortunate misfortune of some women.  Ladies, please don’t get complacent.  Please put in the time and dedication that is mandatory for a happy monogamous relationship.  I sometimes catch myself slipping and then I think about the nights when I was cuddled up in my bed with a body pillow and how I don’t want to go back to that if I don’t have to (oh yeah, BTW, I’m actually doing that right now as I post this—how I ended up here is a story for a different day).

With all of this said, I think I’ve ranted and raved enough for one night.  I’m going to bed, alone.

Also, I wrote this from a very heterosexual perspective mostly because I’m hetero, but please feel free to replace the pronouns with whatever suits your sexual preference; the lesson is trans-sexuality (yes, I just made that up).  I also have to remain true to my feminist roots and state that you should only do the work for a spouse that is deserving and appreciative.  Please don’t waste your time buying sex swings and Louboutins for a deadbeat that doesn’t wine and dine you.