No Explanation Necessary

The “new year, new me” gym crowd has started to disappear more and more now that we’re going into month three of 2018. I’m no longer searching for a mat to finish stretching because they are all taken and I also don’t have to circle the parking lot multiple times in search of a parking space.

Last week, shortly after I arrived at the gym, I noticed that I had an admirer. He started out pretty subtle in his observations and gradually got bolder. I saw him on the treadmill when I first walked in and didn’t think anything of it. He and I were the only dark brown people in the gym at that hour so naturally, we noticed one another. I gave the “black nod” and kept it moving.

When I began warming up on the elliptical, he moved to one that was a couple of machines away from me. When I moved on to the free weights, he soon followed and completed a few exercises a few feet away from where I was stationed. When I looked around or caught my breath, there he was- standing, looking.

I’m sure most women can attest to a similar experience at the gym. Every gym has a few lurkers. Often, the guy may be trying to catch your attention and make eye contact so he can take that as an opening to come start a conversation. Sometimes, they’ll call themselves giving you advice on a particular machine or exercise while other times, they’ll say something corny like “why don’t you smile?” as if the gym is the time you walk around with a broad smile on your face. Oftentimes, I think they are okay looking from afar but don’t want to interrupt their workout or yours.

I didn’t immediately assume he fell into one of those categories because there are plenty of moments when I’m at the gym and men completely ignore me. I had actually forgotten about him until he appeared at the leg machine next to me.

I continued looking straight forward as I counted through my reps. When I completed that first round, I saw him motioning to me in my peripheral. I removed my earphone from my left ear.

“Hi, are you from here?” I heard a thick accent. I am not great with determining accent origins but knew he was not from the U.S. He wore a bright yellow soccer jersey that fit a bit snug across his middle section. He paired it with dark grey mesh shorts and white socks that came up to his shins.

“From California?” I asked, hoping he would catch my accent which would confirm where I was from if this conversation was going where I thought it was.

“You look like you’re from Africa,” he said. Yep, here we go.

For the record, I’ve heard the “you look like you’re from Africa” line more than once but it has always come from African men. I have never had an African woman ask me where I’m from or make the same assumption. I don’t think that is a coincidence.

Armed with that knowledge and the fact that he had not-so-subtly followed me around the gym, I replied with a simple “nope.”

“Oh, okay, your features remind me of back home.”

“Where is home?” I took the bait.

“Ghana. I’ve only been here a year and I find it hard to meet people.” He smiled warmly and I immediately felt bad for assuming he was a lurker. Perhaps, he was actually just a nice guy looking to meet other nice people but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Hence, the random stalker-like behavior.

“Where do you live out here?” I asked.

“Martinez. I just moved a year ago and all I do is go to work and go home, go to work, go home.” He made a circular motion with his finger.

“I’m sure that’s hard. If it makes you feel any better, that’s what a lot of us do.” I smiled and shrugged, unsure of what to say next.

“Yeah, it’s so weird.”

We quickly hit a lull in the conversation. I started to put my earphone back in my ear and got in a couple reps, thinking we were done but he kept talking.

“I was told to go to the club to meet people but I’m not sure if I want to do that.”

“Really? Who suggested the club?”

“A man said that is where you meet nice people.”

“I’m not sure about that but I’m not a club-goer. Have you thought about attending a church? That’s a great way to create a sense of community?” I swear I find a way to fit church into every conversation. Ever the church girl.

He scrunched up his face which quickly told me what he thought of that idea.

“Well, what do you do with your kids?” he smiled.

Oh, I see what you did there. Okay, I’ll play along and get this part over with.

“I don’t have kids.”

“Oh, don’t you want to have kids?”

“Um, I’m not quite sure.” And why are you asking if I want to have kids before you even know my name?

“You don’t?” he responded in mock horror and glanced down at my hips as if they told a different story. “Don’t you love your boyfriend and want to have his kids?”

Smooth, real smooth. I just shrugged, hoping not to have this conversation. I didn’t want to lie to the man but at the same time, I did not want to reveal that I don’t have a boyfriend. I prefer he assume I did so I could get back to my workout. I did a few more reps to signify that I wanted to get back to my workout.

“I want to understand,” he continued, “don’t you want to show him how much you love him by having his kids? Or have you not been together that long? If you don’t want to . . .” He continued talking but I stopped paying attention because I was thinking of what I could say to end this conversation without sharing that I am completely single with no kids and am not interested in having this discussion.

“Well, you know,” I shrugged again and added some weight to the machine.

He did not catch the hint. “What does your boyfriend say about this?”

“I don’t really have a boyfriend,” I mumbled. This. Is not. Happening. Why couldn’t I force myself to lie and ask for forgiveness later?

This statement shocked him. “But, you’re a beautiful woman. You could have any man. You do like men, don’t you? I know a lot of women here do not like men. I was told about that before I came.”

I had to laugh. “That is actually a valid question but yes, yes I do like men.” That was the first time I had ever received that question.

He squinted his eyes and looked closer at me. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.”

The man practically fell off his seat. If I didn’t know any better, I think he was starting to get mad at me. He adjusted himself and turned his full body towards me. Foolishly, I thought he was about to get up and walk away.

“Why are you waiting so long? Do you not want to have kids? Can you have kids? Why you not in relationship?” His questions came in rapid-fire sequence and his accent became thicker. “You are not at an age when you can wait much longer. Back home, most women do not wait until your age to have kids. You don’t have much more time if you plan to start a family. Why are you waiting?” He looked at me with slight horror in his eyes.

I shook my head and shrugged again. I felt my defenses rising up and attitude brimming at the edge of my thoughts. How was I going to explain to him that in my mind, marriage was not something you did just to have a baby nor was it something that I could just wake up and decide to do? Or, that being married and having a baby was not the “end all, be all” of life. How could I explain how long it took for me to get to a place where I lived in joy and contentment, not consumed by my relationship status? Or why I can now walk confidently into a restaurant and not care what complete strangers think when I asked for a table for one. Or how I love the simplistic, uncomplicated, drama-free life that I led; that I love sleeping in the middle of the bed and not worrying about anyone but myself. I love dancing in my kitchen to my favorite songs or creating Instagram stories and chuckling to myself about how funny I think I am. I love the confidence I own and how I won’t feel incomplete or less than because I’m not on some man’s arm. Or how I wouldn’t let his questions diminish the fact that I am successful, driven, purposeful and amazing all by myself.

I wanted him to understand how there are plenty of women living in pretty prisons because they succumbed to the pressures our society places on those who do not follow the fairytale lifestyle. Those women settled for mediocre because they got tired of holding out for great. I wanted to pump my fist in the air and shout that my life is not incomplete because I am not married yet nor is it lacking because I don’t have diaper-fever (the fist pump may have been a bit dramatic but let me have my moment.)

His questions represented what a lot of fabulous, single women deal with on a daily basis. Their successes are diminished and minimized because of their relationship status. Some people don’t see them for who they are and the amazing things they have accomplished. Those same people prefer to hang their hat on archaic notions of thinking that diminish the value of a single woman but celebrate the single man’s lifestyle.

As I delayed my response and these thoughts ran through my head, his previous glances of admiration slowly turned to looks of confusion.

Before my American entitlement was about to rear his ugly head, I paused my rapid thoughts and realized that I don’t owe anyone an explanation about my life, especially not the lurking dude at the gym. But even if this was a conversation in the office or over dinner, I am not going to feel bad about waiting for what God has for me and being happy and fulfilled in the meantime. While I do desire marriage, my life does not revolve around wondering when it will happen or if I have enough eggs to produce a baby.

My life revolves around making the most out of every day and fulfilling my purpose during my time here on earth. I want to travel all over the world, taste new cuisines and experience it through these eyes that represent black girl magic to the fullest. Instead of worrying about something that could happen tomorrow or years from now, I wanted to take advantage of the now- how I live my life now, how I can spread love and wisdom now, how can I be the best I can be now. I wasted enough time pining over broken relationships and wishful thinking. My life is full of wonderful people and activities that deserve my attention now.

I’m not sure what the friend-seeking Ghanaian was ultimately wanting from me. Instead of giving him an answer to his questions, I finished my set on the gym machine then stood, smiled and said, “I hope you find the community you’re looking for,” and walked away.