11 Sep Epic Birthday Breakup- A Birthday, A Boyfriend and A Breakup
Everyone has that one person who they wish they never dated. And if you’re one of those “I don’t regret anything in my life” type of people- bitch, stop lying. You know you wish you didn’t date that loser. Since my birthday is on Thursday, I’d like to share the story of my birthday breakup with the ex-boyfriend who I regret, but also want to thank. On my birthday, nine years ago, I not only put this loser in check, I also proved how much of a bad bitch I really am. I know you have questions so let me explain.
When I got divorced from my ex-husband back in 2009, I dated around, but didn’t really find anyone who was boyfriend material. Besides, at that point, I had spent most of my the first years of early adulthood pregnant and married, so I was reclaiming my life and “finding myself”. All of my life I had let men and my relationships define who I was, so even though I wasn’t “looking for a man”, I was still looking for a man. Anyway, I dated a few frogs and had pretty much come to the conclusion that I was going to be single forever. Mind you, I was only 23 at the time.
Y’all know I can be a tad dramatic 🙂
One evening, in the Spring of 2010, I went out with my cousin and a few of her friends. We were going to this new spot and meeting a few people there. Before we walked in, one of her friends pulled me to the side and said, “There is this guy in there who is totally going to try to talk to you. His name is Tyrone. Whatever you do, don’t give him your number. He’s an asshole.” Man, oh man, I wish I would’ve listened. I actually had all intentions of curving him, but this guy was good. I mean really good.
Side note- His name is not Tyrone, but that’s the most asshole name I could think of. I apologize if this offends any Tyrones out there, but after Erykah Badu dubbed “Tyrone” a loser, it just ruined it for all of you.
So we walk in and I see Tyrone. This guy is fly AF. He could dress, had a clean cut and nice smile. Still, I didn’t take the bait. He was extremely charismatic, very intelligent and super sweet. I didn’t get the whole “asshole” vibe. He had been watching me the whole night, flirting here and there and buying drinks for everyone. Did I mention he was loaded? Yeah. Homeboy had bank. He was a trust fund baby.
I don’t really remember how it happened, but by the end of the night I was sitting next to him, laughing it up like we had known each other for years. And you know what my dumbass did when he asked for my number? I gave it to him. Poor, dumb, naïve Katryce. I took the bait. Out the corner of my eye I could see my cousin’s friend smack his forehead with his hand. I didn’t care though. If he was an asshole, I would be the one to change him. What. A. Dumb. Ass.
Over the next two weeks we talked every single day for hours. We went on dates every night to the most romantic places and my friends and I hung out with him and his friends. We just thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. By the three-week mark, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes. No questions asked.
As the weeks went on, we got closer. Everything was still going well. Whenever I decided I wanted to go out with my friends, he would buy a table and go with us. It was all cool until the time I decided to go out and didn’t tell him first. My friends and I wanted to go to a club we visited frequently and he was studying for an exam. I didn’t want to disturb him, so, I just went out with my girls.
While we were out, he called me and when I told him where I was he said, “I’m on my way” and hung up. Within five minutes, the bouncer (who we knew) came up to us and told us that Tyrone was on his way and had bought us a table. My friends were excited, but I was kind of weirded out. Why was he coming up here and why was it so important for us to be at a private table? We went to the table and started boozin’ it up. By the time he got there, I was pretty lit, but I still remember how irritated he looked.
“Don’t do that shit again.”
“Go out without telling me.”
Now’s a good time to state for the millionth time that I was raised by strong women. So the fact that I was letting this little shit “tell me what to do” is beyond me. I don’t know why I was so desperate to have him as a boyfriend that I would let him boss me around but sadly, I obliged to his demand. I think that’s what I regret most about this time in my life.
Anyway, it was the summertime now and we were still going strong. Slowly, but surely, he started showing more signs of his asshole-ness. He would say rude things to my friends and started to become very particular about what I wore. Everything had to be super expensive, high fashion shit or he was not having it. He took me shopping ALL the time. I know that sounds like a dream; and at first it was.
But it quickly turned into a nightmare.
Things took take a turn when this man started talking to me crazy. He would say things like, “Don’t wear your hair like that. It looks stupid AF.” “I can’t believe you would wear that. You definitely don’t have the body for it.” “Come on let’s go to the salon, I don’t like your hair curly today.” “How you gonna be a writer and you’re a college drop-out? Be realistic- not dumb.” The little comments started to get harsher and harsher. And for some odd reason, I took it all. I don’t know why, but I just let him beat me down into this little girl who no longer believed in herself.
Tyrone went everywhere I went. And the whole time we were out, he talked about himself for hours. Think if Mayweather and Trump had a baby. That was Tyrone. He also paid for everything me and my friends did and would be offended if we even offered to pay for ourselves. This wasn’t him being nice though. It was all about him being in control. He made me feel like I needed him. Like I was nothing without him. I had never felt so small in my life.
Still, I took care him as I thought any girlfriend should take care of their man. I cooked for him, washed his laundry, helped him study for tests, cleaned and organized his house- shit like that. I felt since he did so much for me, I was indebted to do a lot for him. Keep in mind, I NEVER asked him for a thing.
At this point you’re probably wondering why I stayed. At the time, I wasn’t really sure. In the beginning, I really thought I had fallen in love. He was sweet, caring and great with my family, so, I believed he was “the one”. That’s what got him through the door and what made me “fall in love”. It was also just nice to be taken care of. I had spent the last 4 years of my life spending every last dime I had on my beautiful baby boy. Although it felt great to give him the world, I too often neglected myself. So if someone was willing to spoil me- I was here for it.
Again, definitely not my proudest moment.
Before we got together, he was accepted into a masters’ program in Atlanta, so we knew we were going to be taking this thing long distance in the fall. The moment he got on the plane, I felt a sigh of relief. I didn’t have to get all dolled up every damn day. I didn’t have to keep up appearances. I could just breathe. But even though I felt free, oddly enough, I missed him.
Things got worse when he left. He hated not being able to be with me when I went out with my friends, so he would send all of his friends out with us in his absence. He would literally buy us a table and have his friends stand in front of the table; almost like they were guarding us from the other club-goers.
He also got meaner. He would constantly mention little things about what I wore out or how people would view me because of this and that. He called one of my friends ugly and called another friend a whore on her public social media page.
One day, we got into a huge argument. You see, I found out he had been hanging out with some new girl in Atlanta. We were on the phone screaming at each other and I threatened to leave him. I will never forget what he said next. “Go ahead and leave. Nobody is going to want a divorced mom with stretch marks and no degree anyway. You’ll be back.” For the first time, in the 5+ months we had been together, I finally had a moment of clarity. Who in theeeeee fuck did this guy think he was talking to?
I didn’t react. I didn’t yell back or say something mean in retaliation. That would’ve been too fucking easy. I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to see how it felt to be knocked down. What I did next is going to sound crazy, but I PROMISE it will come full circle. I apologized to HIM. I know it sounds insane, but I had to get him back on my side. You see, he was planning a huge party for my birthday that year and I was going to go out with a fucking bang- ON HIS DIME.
Over the next few weeks, I stayed very quiet. He believed he had won. I had two weeks until my birthday and I was going to milk this guy for everything he had. First, he bought my dress- $500 and my shoes – $250. Then I got a $200 pair of Ray Bans and a shopping spree at Sephora – $150. And just for the hell of it, I sent him a shopping list for CJ of over $500 and he bought it all. But the buck didn’t stop there. Oh no.
He came down the day before my party and I got his ass to pay off one of my credit cards- oh yeah I went there. I’m actually surprised he fell for the bait because I NEVER asked him for anything. Come to think about it, that’s probably why he liked me so much- cause I was never tried to use him. Oh well. Now I was.
The day of my party came and we reserved not one, not two, but three tables at the club. I invited everyone I knew just for the hell of it. And he got an individual bottle of Rose for each member of our party. I swear to God. You can ask any of my family /friends. That cost him around $5000. It was one hell of a night.
The next day, we went out to dinner for my birthday with my family. Now was the time my plan would come full circle. It was my turn to be a dick to him. I may not have had a degree, but I have a PhD in joking and I ROASTED this guy at the dinner table in front of everyone. Everything he said, I had a joke for it. Every time he bragged about how much money he had, I joked about how it was his daddy’s money, not his.
He was super confused as to what was going on, but knew not to retaliate in front of my family because he didn’t want that kind of beef. My family are all riders. We don’t play.
At this point my friends knew that I was about to dump him in the most epic breakup of life, but my family didn’t. So they were just sitting there hella confused about why I was being such a bitch to him. They weren’t aware of my plan or how much of a prick he was to me. But still, no one intervened. They knew that there had to be some reason I was dogging him out.
It got so bad and he was so embarrassed that he politely said he wanted to leave. I cheerfully responded, “Sure”. Since he had come from out of town, he was staying at a hotel in DC and didn’t have a car. I would’ve totally told him to catch a cab, but I had left all of my clothes at his hotel so I had to go there anyway. Besides, his phone died so he NEEDED ME!
I made him wait until the Redskins game went off at the restaurant and then we left. The whole car ride he was shouting about how embarrassed he was and you know what I did? I turned up my Spice Girls Greatest Hits album and obnoxiously chanted the songs. He didn’t know wtf was going on which caused him to lash out even more.
Him: “I don’t even want to be with your dumb ass anymore! It’s like you want me to break up with you!”
Me: *Still dancing to the music and smiling* “Oh no, sweetheart. I’m dumping you.” Then I continued to sing “…if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.”
This had him even more perplexed. I’m pretty sure he had never been dumped in his life. That only brought me more joy. It was glorious. It truly was.
By the time we got to the hotel, he stormed out of the car forgetting that I had the key to the room. SMH. Dumb ass. So after I parked, we went to the room where he thought I was really going to argue with him. I let him shout while I hummed “Spice Up Your Life” and packed my suitcase. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed a table full of presents. A David Yurman box and a Louis Vuitton bag.
Him: “These were for you, but you can forget it now.”
Me: Smiling “Ok.” I said, as I shrugged in a childlike manner.
I grabbed my purse, pulled out the handle to my suitcase and literally rolled out. He was completely shocked. Before the door could close behind me he yelled, “So you’re really just gonna leave?”
I paused, put on my $200 pair of Ray Bans, turned to him and said, “Have a safe trip! Toodles!” I let the door close behind me, got in my car and bounced. I never saw him again.
For the next 24 hours, he called me at least 50 times. When I didn’t answer, he proceeded to call my friends, my sisters and even my mom! He was practically begging me to come back. Then, he sent me a text that read “I at least want to give you these gifts. They’re non-refundable.”
I responded in the most bad-ass way possible. “No, thank you. Me and my divorced, childbearing, stretchmark having ass are just fine.” I felt so empowered at that moment. I took back all of the control. Little bitch. From that day forward I decided to never give a man that type of power over me again.
That day, everything was made so clear to me. Tyrone had paraded himself around as this God only to cover up his own insecurities. He verbally abused me so that I would feel less-than and look at him like he was a blessing to me. When the whole time, he knew I was the gift. He knew I was the prize. He knew I was the blessing. He worked that hard to emotionally break me down so that I wouldn’t realize it myself.
So thank you “Tyrone” for helping me understand my worth and the power I have. Thank you for breaking my cycle of letting a man define me and thank you for giving me the most epic break-up story ever. I will never forget you for that.
Exactly one year after that birthday, I met my now husband. And he loves every inch of this divorced, mom with a tummy full of stretchmarks. AND this college drop-out is currently writing not one but two books. Okkkuuuuurrrrrrr.