Dating Yourself and Solo Long-Term Projects
How a solo long-term project helped Arynetta Floyzelle get to know herself, provided a career breakthrough, and landed her in a foreign country.
How a solo long-term project helped Arynetta Floyzelle get to know herself, provided a career breakthrough, and landed her in a foreign country.
Health, fitness, and inclusion is Briana Owens’ mission and why she created Spiked Spin. Learn more about Briana’s journey in this week’s installment of Wellness Wednesdays.
This Wellness Wednesday is bringing self care and mental wellness to the forefront with mental healthcare professional Dr. Ally.
Here’s what going on 25 first dates in one year taught blacklove.com columnist Brook Sitgraves Turner about finding your soulmate.
Senior editor, Arynetta Floyzelle, explores "doing it all" with the one essential rule to successfully dating yourself this year.
Antwan Steele explains why men being in touch with their innermost feelings is a necessary step towards emotional wellness.
This month on blacklove.com, we are focusing on Self Love — ways to develop it in your life, and the ways in which your life can expand for the positive once loving yourself and listening to your needs becomes a lifestyle. To help you develop this habit and start your new year right, the Black Love team has put together a list of 5 movies that remind us— all you need is SELF love.
I’ve always loved my single life. Scratch that — I’ve always loved my life. Thinking about it as a single girl’s existence usually only came up when in the company of coupled people. That’s when I most often found myself pattering on about if there was someone new, special, or worthy of the “we.” If there was, I committed to blushing gushes about “the guy.” If not, it was stated, then we rolled on to other topics –– and there were plenty of other topics. My life was full, and the “single” aspect of it was just one aspect. I was open to whatever couplings life brought — including the ultimate coupling, my husband — but I didn’t trick myself into prioritizing something I was not ready for. As a child and into adulthood, I thought about –– even fantasized about –– my wedding. But it was more the magazine spread edition: what I would wear, where it would be, what that first kiss as a married couple would look like. It was like I was always planning the Instagram post. I know, I know, I can already hear the mumblings of “this is why we have a 50% divorce rate in this country.” What I am trying to say is: aware that I wasn't ready for the complexity and depth of marriage, it was easiest to focus on the surface –– the wedding. In my twenties, as friend after friend paired off into ever-after, I eagerly planned bridal showers, enthusiastically performed bachelorette duties, and loved getting lost in the romance of the wedding day. But I never felt the pressure to find dates for weddings or events, or to be paired off myself. My life was about entertainment and work — far too often, in that order. I loved only having to think about me — who I wanted to visit, what country I wanted to live in, what jobs I wanted to take. I loved the get-up-and-go freedom of single life, and I considered myself a “girl on the go.” I would bounce to South Beach on a wing and a prayer with just enough money for a four-girl room share at the dingiest hotel on the strip, with my return flight landing just in time for me to drag myself to work. My closet was packed with sassy dresses and flirty heels to support my “living it up” lifestyle and, when I couldn’t afford a new “look”, I prided myself on my ability to construct a ballgown from a tablecloth and a safety pin. I didn’t have to consult anybody when I decided to move to London for grad school, or when I decided to move back. And this freedom went for the tough times, too. When a family member was involved in a serious car accident, I didn’t have to consult with anyone to move to be closer to them, and when I found myself in debt after two unexpected surgeries, I didn’t have to consult with anyone to move in with my parents to get out of it. I was only responsible for myself, and it was up to me if I wanted to honor or ignore that responsibility. Sometimes, the choice was a coin toss.
Reiki, paddleboard yoga, oat milk, magic candles and love. Follow Brook Sitgraves Turner as she uses the art of attraction to attract a like-minded partner into her life.
Always seeking to go deeper into self love and knowledge, Jared Williams jumped at the chance to take the Enneagram test. His findings were unexpected: he learned that his commitment to excellence may have been exactly what was standing in the way of him being truly excellent all along.
Gratitude is the attitude this holiday season. With that in mind, blacklove.com’s editorial contributors reflect on 2018 and share what they are grateful for. In this edition, Senior Editor Arynetta Floyzelle talks her return to Los Angeles, the wonders of wisdom, and the life-altering power of self love. As 2018 rolls to an end — almost as swiftly as it started, it seems — I sit in reflection of the year and all of the beauty it has bestowed on me. There are plenty of tangibles in my life to be grateful for: finally feeling at home in a new city populated with lovely friends, some I have known my entire life, some I’ve met since my arrival; an address, as for a very long time I was guest bedroom-hopping; the health of my family, loved ones, and self; my representation and all the work they do for me; living so close to an Erewhon; and, my position at Black Love and all of the joy and freedom it has brought me.
The “Single Girl Rut” can be hard to break and should not be taken lightly. But with strategy, determination, and these three simple (but necessary) rules, one woman is breaking the cycle, one date at a time.
It's an amazing feeling when the epiphany is that you don't have to choose between two things you've always wanted. Jared was hoping a checklist would lead him to love, and in that order. What he learned was, this list he fantasized over and stuck to may have been the very thing that kept him away from love.
Yvette Bennett was in an abusive relationship when a friend asked her one fateful question: “Do you love yourself?” Answering that question would transform her life into one of her dreams, it would allow her to accept her sexuality and show her the amazing rewards of unconditional self-love.
Ladies. Do you realize there’s a difference between loving yourself and knowing your worth?
Netflix’s Nappily Ever After did a bold thing by making a movie with a talented, well-loved, veteran actress also known for being drop dead gorgeous....and stripping her of her hair. But, do you know who else was bold? Sanaa Lathan, the film’s star, who actually shaved her head for the film.
What does a 31-year-old single woman with a complicated romantic history do when she realizes, “Hey, maybe it’s me”?
Why did I address you as King? That is a great question, and I’m glad you asked. I call you King because who I am on the inside calls out who you are on the inside. How we view ourselves is often how we view others. I view myself as a King; therefore, that is how I view who you are too. “King” is not just a title; it is who you are at your core, which then sets your code of conduct and way of living. But I did not always see myself this way. My parents divorced when I was 13, and for the first time in my life, I experienced pain like never before in my heart. The man who I had grown to love and admire was not only leaving my mother, but he was walking out of my life. My father had been my hero, and he could do no wrong until he was no longer the man of the house. I transitioned into the role of a surrogate father to my sisters and a friend to my mother. I was the strong one, but even I had my moments of weakness. The football field became my outlet to unleash all the pain, resentment, and anger without repercussions. I never, ever talked about my pain. Football was my coping mechanism; it was how I identified myself because I didn’t have a male figure or role model to teach me I could be more. After a successful college career, I began pursuing a dream to play on Sundays. I was a free agent on the market looking for an NFL home that would allow me to continue my coping. The Green Bay Packers gave me that opportunity. I did everything right, but the football Gods chose to see my fate otherwise. I was sent home with no contract and with the suspense of “stay in shape, and we will call.” The call never came.
“Enjoy it while it lasts” was always the sage advice I got from grandmothers watching my tantrum-throwing toddler. I would be trying to put him down, so I could eat a meal with a fork. I’d look at them, smile, and think, “Miss kicking-screaming-snot-filled-face-wipes-on-my-shirt fits? I don’t think so.” A new mother longs for the days when she can take a shower with the curtain closed because every time she closes it her baby’s mouth is open. The life you had before the baby feels like a lifetime ago. Freedom. Independence. Showers. Distant memories of the past. Eating. Sleeping. Shaving. Luxuries you can’t afford anymore, all because you’re somebody’s mom. You took watching TV uninterrupted for granted. You can’t remember a time you walked unencumbered or in heels, without tiny little hands gripped around your ankles as you leave for work. Carried a purse instead of a diaper bag. Read a book without pictures. Be normal. Those are the days I should’ve enjoyed while they lasted. That should be advice these grandmothers dispense. These women done with play dates, birthday parties, and park visits. These brunching-bottomless-mimosa bitches. These sisterhoods of the stainless pants. These women have independent children. Children with driver’s licenses and part-time jobs. These women have teenagers, college students and full-fledged adults that call them mom. So what do these women know? A lot. Single Moms Get a Life
By weekday, she takes care of the kids, cleans the house, and is the consummate “PTA Mom”. But come Friday nights, the Louboutins and lipstick come out to play – and it’s none of your business whether they play nice. Ya know, being a single mom has its ups and has its downs. The all-encompassing effort is so difficult that I don't know if I'll ever find the words to describe it, but all my single moms know what I'm talking about. My kids give me so much joy; my whole life is wrapped around them. But I've found in the last 18 months that there are two very distinct Veronikas. There's the "Mom Mode" and there's the "Me Mode." And you have to protect both, you have to protect both. When I'm in "Mom Mode" somehow, no matter how exhausted I am, or how difficult my day has been, I manage to get out of bed every morning at 5:30 am. I pull my hair into a ponytail, get all five of my children dressed and ready, and am out the door no later than 6:45 am. I drive in Los Angeles traffic for over three hours a day to get kids to school, to practice, and to events. I usually have dinner cooked by noon, because if I don't, it won't be ready in time. I get all the little babies – ages two, three, and four – in the bath no later than 7:00 pm and into bed by 8:30 pm. It's not extraordinary what I do – it's necessary. It's my job. Nobody gets brownie points for going to work and doing their job. So, I do my job proudly. I do it with every fiber of my being and it is the great joy of my life to be a mother.