Seafood Macaroni

***No names are used to protect those who encountered this clown from being revealed.***

You’ve probably already guessed that this really isn’t about seafood macaroni, although the decadent dish that day was just as amazing as it sounds. The creamy, cheesy goodness with real crab meat and shrimp lumps perfectly baked…. I’ll be needing another soon. But, now that I have you salivating, you’re right. Seafood macaroni is the dish that I was invited to enjoy the night I found out this dude I was seeing was also seeing the host. 

Rewind a couple months prior to dinner: After rekindling with an old fling, I was coming out of a traumatic situation. I was convinced to be a part of his organization. I supported this vision wholeheartedly. It helped the community. It created a space for young adults to give back and it opened an avenue for youth to get involved and hide under the wings of folks who've been there. It was a perfect way for me to put my hand to the plow after removing myself from my previous church. How could I turn down the opportunity to give back and support a man I was starting to re-form a bond with?  And it was wrapped with the idea that “my woman would be alongside me in ministry”…. For a Christian woman, looking for the one to find her, that’s a panty melting phrase. Pardon my French.

I dove in with all the energy. I began singing at services he’d preach. At the time, he wasn’t driving, so sometimes I’d take him home - the complete opposite direction from me. I was even so gracious to get up early some days and take him to work. ***Women! Please don’t be this girl. I hated feeling like I was being used - and even brought it up - but a narcissist will always be crafty enough to turn it around. Meanwhile, he could’ve got his ass on the bus.  I digress.***

I was also convinced to play a leadership role in the org. One day, we had a photoshoot, and I was volunteered to take another member home. We clicked. The ride was pure laughs and sharing personal stories and I found this chick to be straight dope. We exchanged numbers and I told her to let me know if she needed a ride or anything. The next meeting, she text me for a ride. We shared more stories: this time - about the men we were dealing with. It was amazing how many “girl, me too” moments we had on that ride.

Dinner night: I couldn’t even tell you exactly how we figured it out, but we had an 'aha' moment. We laughed because it didn’t surprise us. We compared stories and then realized just how corny this man was. 

Our plan: The plan was simple: You’re a Queen. I’m a Queen. It is evident that he has great taste. Why take that out on each other? Our bond grew. If nothing else, we knew that we had this bum in common. The pure comedy of that was enough to keep a friendship going. We both were vocal. We questioned him. True to his character, he denied and turned it into us being crazy. His concern was not to apologize and change. His concern was if we would leave the organization. As a matter of fact, I still don’t think we ever got an apology. Oh well. 

I could go on and on about the things that my friend and I picked up on after that. Our spider senses were in full activation mode. We wondered who he lived with, since he said it was his cousin. We wondered how many other girls worked right beside us. I wondered how many others his leaders were calling “First Lady”, a term I absolutely despised being called in the first place.

I stopped taking him seriously even before this discovery. I continued to date and was available when I was available and nothing more. (Isn’t it funny how unavailable men will get mad when you don't have all the time in the world for them?) I followed through with the things I promised for the year, but I let him know as soon as the new year came, I would finish my last assignment, but I was no longer a part of the organization. He dared to question my frequency with the last assignment and when I explained to him that my schedule wouldn’t allow for more time, he boldly told me that his organization was built on integrity!!!! Bwahahahahahahaha. I laughed right in his face, well Via text, and let him know that I wouldn’t be able to fulfill his expectations, so I will no longer complete the assignment. That felt empowering.

Seafood Macaroni is not a story about my vulnerability. It is a story about how I overcame my trauma with the help of an asshole. Mr. Macaroni looked great on paper. He was the life of the party. A handsome man who said all the right things and created all the right feelings. But Mr. Macaroni was insecure, so he took advantage of strong, beautiful women, who were willing to pour out their hearts and talents to help others. He manipulated many. It’s quite disgusting when you know the whole story. He tried to break many down for his own ego; but he failed fiercely. 

My prayer for you is that if you encounter a Mr. Macaroni, you see his true colors before he cuts you and you can’t be repaired. Walk in your empowerment NOW. Your Macaroni may come in the form of a companion, a boss, a friend or even an institution; but I hope you know who you are so when Mr. Macaroni tries to pull your talents for his gain, you already know what it is…

Now, can I get that dish of seafood macaroni?