Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to walk through life with the confidence of a straight, white wolf/vixen?

this morning,
i ( x scrolled through an article ) about gwyneth paltrow’s daughter,
apple martin,
and i blurted out a thought i felt we weren’t supposed to say out loud:

Why can’t I feel entitled like that?

not the kind of entitlement that screams “spoiled brat” or “trust fund menace”,
but moreso a healthy entitlement.
the kind where you know your worth and demand that others treat you accordingly.
naturally,
my mind took a detour into the days i was a hot ‘n’ happen’n pick-me…

i was the king of of begging for emotional scraps.
i’d bend over backward with the hope of being bent over just to get the manz.
when i think about it,
after this amazing sex i was fantasizing about,
i kinda didn’t know what was gonna happen next.
these days,
even tho i have no problem catering to my manz:

What is he doing for me?

…and don’t font “buying me shit“.
he better be rolling out the red carpet for me too.
no more begging for emotional scraps.

I don’t care if you’re #1 in your career.
I don’t care if you spend 6 out of the 7 days in the gym.
I don’t care if you can rap, sing, or throw a ball.

all that is great but if i’m not feeling safe and loved on,
that shit means nothing to me.
if i’m not gaining anything from this dynamic then it’s pretty simple:

He’s out.

he doesn’t realize that he goes and someone else comes.
he thinks i lost something but God arranges the cards for another to come in.

the way i’m seeing things nowadays:

I’m not losing anything if he is an asshole.

i’m sure those rabid hoes he is used to might let him slide with the bare minimum.

I’m in a different league entirely.

…and i need him to come correct.
in all ways,
shapes,
and forms.