Thursday, April 16, 2015

Baby Mama Drama

"I got the baby mama drama
Enough to make you want to scream and holla"
-Dave Hollister

As you may already know, I have reentered the dating world in the past few months. Ready to open myself up to the endless possibilities when you take a chance on love. Whether it is a uncovering a deep connection, making a new friend or gaining better insight into what I am searching for, I am enjoying the journey. 

After taking a few years off of getting romantically serious with anyone, I have had the opportunity to really figure out what I am looking for in a partner. No longer do I settle for just anybody. Having been around the dating block a few times, I have been really mindful and observant of the men I have gone out with. 

Recently, I started communicating with several different potential suitors on the various online dating websites (i.e. Match, OKCupid, POF, eHarmony, etc.) Before I even consider going out with someone, I like to filter out who are the serious contenders. Why waste both our time?

Granted it takes time to really get to know someone, I think you can find out a lot about a person through a simple phone call. 

When I am dating, I do not spend endless time wasted on back and forth communication on email or text messaging. I like to get right to it by either telephone conversations and/or meeting up for a first date. 

Unlike so many other people, I like to get straight to the questions that matter and then I actually listen to what the person has to say.

If you ask all the right questions, you can know if that person is wrong for you.

It's not as if I am interrogating, but being smart about skillfully interviewing my potential life partner, without them realizing it. 

Listen, if you were hiring someone to build a business with you, wouldn't you want to see their resume, make sure they meet your qualifications and be the best possible candidate for the position? Why is it any different than the person you want to build a life with?

Over time I have been revising my list for a life partner, tweaking it here and there, as I gain more experience with dating different men. 

Tonight I would like to add "No Baby Mama Drama" to my love list. In the past, many of the men I have dated were divorced with children. Sadly, many of those same men had serious drama with their babies' mamas. Whether it was crazy custody battles or really horrific relationships with their exes, I do everything can to avoid it. 

Sorry about that, but I do not want your problem to be my problem one day. That is the reality of getting involved with someone who has really heavy baggage. Eventually, you will be asked to help carry that load. 
Are there great people who just happen to have crazy ass exes? Of course there are. I know many wonderful family and friends who unfortunately were married to awful people and still have to raise their children together. 

At this point in my life, most of the men my age have been married and have children of their own. I pay very close attention to what they say about their ex wives. Does he describe her as a shrew that doesn't let him see his children? Did you sign over custody, but it all seems sketchy? Maybe he is a really nice guy, but she is bona fide bananas? When he talks about his children, is he respectful and shares he maintains a really good relationship with his ex wife? 

Listen very carefully and don't let attraction butterflies distract you from the reality of the situation. 

Sadly, far too many blended families have to deal with this never ending drama, which often lead to another broken marriage. Going through a difficult divorce myself has left me more realistic than a hopeless romantic. 

If there is any indication of Baby Mama Drama, I make the choice to walk away. Fortunately, I have a really great relationship with my son's father and his stepmother. Despite my history with my ex husband, I am so grateful for him being a really a great dad. Never do I have to worry about a lack of a support for our son. 

He is loved by so many people. This is all that matters to me. 

I don't have any Baby Daddy Drama, so I want someone who doesn't have Baby Mama Drama. When I meet a single dad who has a similar family arrangement, he is more attractive to me in my eyes. 

In fact, I have a date this weekend with another single dad, who is really involved with his children and speaks highly of his ex wife. Now that is sexy as hell to me. An actual grown up, who supports his children, loves their mom and knows how to maintain a healthy relationship for the benefit of his kids.  

Drama is juvenile and belongs in middle school, not in relationships with grown ass men and women.

Not all marriages work out, sometimes you cannot control if your ex turns into a raging lunatic, but you can do your best to be honest with what you will accept into your life and relationships.

 Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily ;) xo

The First Time I Saw Her

 Today's guest blog post on Sweet Cicily was written by a wonderful woman that I had become friends with at my CrossFit box. After reading some of Kayla's social media writings, I knew I wanted to ask her to consider being a guest blogger/writer for the website. 

Her writing is beautiful, honest and raw; I hope you enjoy today's story as much as I do. Have a wonderful day. If you have a story you would like to share, I would love to connect with you and discuss guest blogging opportunities.

We first met at a horse race in 2010. It was a cool night and I was cleaning the horses up after their heat. I didn’t race anymore. Not since the accident. I just went to watch; to remember the thrill. The race had finished and everyone was dancing. I was off to the side, watching. I often observed. I was worn out with the beauty of the most trivial things. I watched the shadows cast by the horses, the way someone’s mouth moved and if their eyes match their laughter. Every day, I spent time and energy on the simple movement of objects and people; on details. Soda cans abandoned on curb. Notebooks forgotten in the back of car seats. Thousands and thousands of random details were strewn about my landscape, mixed with their conversations, stomping horses and the smell of the track. Some people have to strain to notice these dramas, or they don’t see them at all. I had to squint to ignore them.

The first time I saw her she was in the distance, holding back an unruly gray stallion, who had the crowd gasping and parting as he reared up again and again, lashing out with his hooves. And then there was her, mouth set in a straight line of determination as she held onto his lead line, carefully avoiding his furious strikes. I came up behind her and snatched the rope, pulling the stallion to me and breathing into his nose. He settled and she smiled at me, relieved.

“I had him, you know,” she said kindly, yet stubbornly. Her eyes were a brilliant blue and made my breath catch in my throat.

I ignored her, looking at the stallion instead. I gave him my palm and he gave me his breath, warm against my skin. “What’s his name?”


Her name was Alli and she had an accent. She grew up in Mexico, and moved to the states to look for work. She was dying of heart failure, but you would never know. I don’t think she knew either. She didn’t live like that. We connected instantly. Horses were all she knew. Her voice was musical, her eyes swallowed me whole and I saw my own soul in hers. Her long, black hair was tied in a messy braid, she often forgot to speak English until I reminded her that I couldn’t understand her, and I could not tear myself away from her for one moment. We danced until dawn, stopping only to speak in whispers, leaning closer each time. We traded phone numbers, but she didn’t call and neither did I. That’s just how it goes sometimes. Two ships passing in the night.

The second time I saw her, six months later, I was down by the ocean. This time, I was alone, capturing the secrets of the ocean with a camera and a telephoto lens. I loved the details that the world held. I was taking pictures of the white crosses against the pale blue sky.

“Hey, you left me there at that horse race and you never called.” I recognized her voice immediately. I turned and she was standing beside Sultan, head tilted to the side and smiling. She was wearing a white dress, no shoes, and had  her dark hair tied in a messy side braid. She made my throat close. I hugged her and stroked an uneasy Sultan, who eyed the crashing waves uncertainly.

“Do you want to try to ride him?” she asks me. I eyed the notebook tucked under her arm. She had been writing. She pulled on Sultans ears affectionately and he tossed his head impatiently.

“I can ride him into the ocean?” I asked her.

She shook her head, her face darkening. “He was not born of the sea. He will not. He doesn’t trust the ocean.”

“I don’t trust the ocean either. It doesn’t mean I’m afraid of it. It doesn’t mean he’s afraid of it.” I regard her silently. We spoke the same silent language. I tilted my head and smirked and she rolled her eyes, but offered me a hand and a leg up onto Sultan.  

“You won’t get him into the sea,” she told me, winking at me.
I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I whisper like the sea in the horse’s ear.”

Sultan reared and I clung to his mane. There was no saddle. I whispered to him and urged him forward. I anchored my soul to his. I was a part of him and he was a part of me. He sidestepped and we danced along the shore of the ocean. I turned him towards the sea and he screamed. He was a handful. My cheeks were raw with the wind throwing sand against them. My thighs stung from holding onto his sides. My arms ached from holding up two thousand pounds of horse. Sultan was hungry and wicked, vicious and beautiful, hating me and loving me. He danced into the sea and he sang. She sat on the shore and wrote. Sultan took the reins from me and went deeper into the sea. I urged him back, but was hesitant. Once you taste the sea, there is no going back. I took the reins and gave them back, gave and took, gave and took, willing him back to letting me have control.  He was slow, the ocean sang to us both, but he returned to me.

    “How did you do that?” she asked me when I slid off Sultan beside her. She is breathless. I was fascinated and repelled by her at the same time. She was both a mirror of myself and a door to a world I did not know. I will never in my lifetime see eyes that color again, contrasting against her dark skin and hair.  Instead of answering, I picked up my camera and aimed it towards her, snapping while she laughed. She mounted Sultan, and he brings her into the ocean. I followed them with the camera.

    The first time I saw the picture in public, it was hanging in a gallery in the power and light district in Kansas City. I had been asked over and over who the woman in the pictures were. A friend, I had told them simply.

    The second time I saw the picture, I was in Chicago one weekend and I had the day to myself. She lived in Chicago at the time. We had stayed in touch but I hadn’t heard from her in six months, which was unusual. Her number was disconnected. I emailed her but she never wrote back. The last address I had for her was right outside Chicago city.
I carried a small snapshot of her in my wallet. I showed the doorman her picture. “Does she live here?”

“Who are you? A cop?” he asked me.

    “No. Why?” I said, looking down at my torn jeans and messy ponytail. I felt sick.

    “Relative? Friend?”

    She didn’t have any relatives in the states. I swallowed. “A friend. A very, very good friend. Please,” I said, “Does she still live here? Is-“

    The doorman cut me off. “She used to live here. Listen, lady. I don’t know what to say. You should go in and speak to Mrs. Anderson. She’s the landlord. She will fill you in.”

    So, the second time I saw the picture, it was in the Chicago Times Obituaries, while I stood in the landlords dusty apartment. She had been in Chicago for six months. She was training horses. She wanted to perform, like on Broadway, but with Sultan. She met a guy. He has beaten her. Beyond recognition. Sultan was missing. She was dead.

I put away my camera. 


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Going Dutch: What Does She Really Think?

Last night I went out on a date with a man that I met on the dating website Match com. Out of all the various dating websites, Match seems to have more "relationship" minded individuals. Unlike other dating application, you have to be a paid subscriber to the website if you want to communicate with potential suitors. 

Over the years, I have either actively dated, been in 2 one year long relationships, gone on a few "manbaticals" and returned to online dating to see if there were any new people I might find interesting.

Most recently, I am coming off a 6 month break from dating, where I had been focusing on other areas of my life, such as family time and training at CrossFit. It was a really great few months of just focusing on me.

Men were the last thing on my mind. However, the desire to feel a connection was growing strong. Six long months of complete celibacy will do that to you. As much as I enjoy my singleness, I miss companionship, touch and butterflies fluttering.

It was time. I was ready.

Around the end of January I decided to be open my heart to the possibility of meeting someone special. Yet, this time I was going to take me sweet time searching for a person to share my life with. While it is taking a lot longer than I thought ( 6 years) to find my Mr. Right For Me, I don't mind the journey it has taken me to find him.

Sometimes I wonder if my future love is also going on really bad dates too now as we speak. Wondering where in the hell is his Mrs. Right For Me.

Don't worry sweetie! I am out here. Right now, as God is getting us both ready, I am going out on bad dates, so that one day I will appreciate just how amazing you are to me!

Now to the point of today's blog post, going on a bad date. At some point in our lives, we have all been single, which means you have more than likely had bad date stories. Bad dates stories are the BEST stories. 

Overall, I have had good dates, so it is only natural to have a few not so great dates sneak in there. Now I know you like my dating and love life stories, because my traffic views skyrocket, so here is another chapter in my real life romantic comedy We Are Past 50 First Dates.

As I had mentioned earlier, last night I went on a date from a man I met on Match. It wasn't a bad date, after all I did enjoy his company. Not only was he intelligent and cute, but he was also very well traveled.

When we met at the restaurant HE had suggested to have dinner, I realized I had recognized him from around the small town we live in. He was the cute man at the coffee shop, glancing over his lap top and latte at me. Now here I was on a date with the cute military pilot. Lucky me!

Dinner was yummy, conversation was lively and then the most awkward moment in a first date ... the waiter places the check in the middle of the table.

We keep talking. We both know it is there. It was like a Wild Wild West show down. Who shoots first? Both hands on our wallets. Looking straight at each other. Who grabs the check?

More uncomfortable talk and several minutes pass. No indication of him going to grab the check holder. Clearly, I knew he wasn't going to offer to pay, despite being the one asking to take me out for dinner.

Do you know what I was really thinking in that very moment?

I am out with Mr. Let's Go Dutch. 

After almost 60 first dates, in a span of 6 years of singleness, I have only been asked to pay on 3 of those first dates. Remember Mr. Christian Coffee who asked me to buy me coffee after church, then left me standing to literally buy my own cup of coffee. Jesus would have bought me coffee, right?

So back to last night.

Let's see, the same man who was telling me he is buying a condo and has enough money to take a year off to backpack across Asia, can't even pay for my $15 Panang Curry. Really? I just wanted to get out of there.

Immediately, I offered to pay my half, handed him a $20, watched him pocket it and charged our dinner on his Platinum AMEX. 

All I could think about was if this is him impressing me in the beginning, God knows what he would be like down the road.

Listen, I am all for women's liberation, offering to pay and even picking up the tab myself. Hell I have even covered entire vacations without hesitation. However, if you ask someone out on a first date, it would be really nice to offer to pick up the tab. 

As my friend, Chad stated, "Open her door and pick up the tab, manners separate us from the animals." We need more gentlemen like that in the world. 

My officer tonight wasn't all that much of a gentleman. I broke up with him in my mind immediately.

How people treat you from the start is only the tip of the iceberg. As my other wonderful friend Dan said, "If he doesn't (without hesitation) grab the bill, run away as fast as you can. Save yourself the aggravation. That's just classless, cheap, and inconsiderate. And if he's too broke to pay, then that's even worse. If he can't afford to date, then he should have never asked. Go find another job pal."

Granted, there are other men and women who have different opinions on who pays for the first date, which I completely respect, but I know what I am looking for in a partner. 

Call me old fashion, but it is really nice to be treated like a lady. What happened to those days?

Even the last man I dated was really great about picking up the tab, but I always offered to treat him to dinner too. He really appreciated it. Although, I probably make less than half of what most of my dates make, I always contribute to the relationship. 

I am not being a freeloader, but I do value my time. 

Let me be honest, fella was doing really great during the date, but that left me with a lasting impression and my attraction faded as fast as I fled from that restaurant. 

Guess who texted me tonight? Guess who isn't going to go out with him again?

Little did he know I would have gladly picked up the next check, gone on a free outdoor date or even cooked him a nice meal. But he blew it. 

You truly only have one chance to make a first impression. 

Who do you think should pay for the first date? 

Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily

Monday, April 13, 2015

Dear Diary ... Faith Love Hope

“You possess a great soul, awaken the spirit.”

Faith has the ability to change your heart. What was once broken can be restored to something even greater. How do I know this? I have lived to tell how God transformed me into a whole new person. I ascribe my change wholly to HIM, as he has shown me through my struggles that HIS faith, love and hope are all I ever need. 

As a former Atheist, I used to think that Christianity was filled with hypocrisy and if I couldn't see it with my own eyes, then how could there be a God. Despite not believing, little did I know he believed that he had a brighter future for me. 

While I never want to force my beliefs on others, I am not modest about my love for God. No matter what obstacles I may face, I know that I can fix my eyes on Jesus, turn to HIM when I am lost and pray that he will lead the way.

I hope all of you have an amazing week ahead. Remember, that each day is a gift and make the choice to be loving with those you encounter in life. 

Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily ;) xo

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Episode #6 Should You Date a Less Attractive Man?

"Why the hell is she with him? How the hell did he pull that off? Are her standards dipping, or does he fulfill her in some way hot men can’t?"

Just yesterday, I was introduced to a recent article that was shared on Elite Daily, advising women to date less attractive men if they want to find love. 

Tired of having the hot guys break your heart? Well, according to Elite Daily, there a few reasons supporting dating someone is who isn't as attractive as you. 

Honestly, I had mixed feelings about this article, as it makes the assumptions that all "hot" people are pretty much superficial assholes that will break your heart. I don't think it is as simple as what they are suggesting. 

Trust me, I have dated the "nice guy" who wasn't so attractive and he wasn't any better. Maybe we should go deeper beyond the the surface and date someone who brings out the best qualities hidden in ourselves?

I have also dated ridiculously good looking men who were either douches or really great guys that just weren't for me. At this point, I want someone to share my love with someone who has a great heart, depth and I want to tear his clothes off when we get home. Is that too much to ask for?

Listen to today's podcast, as I respond to whether women should date a man who is less attractive. 

What do you think? 

It's Not For Money: Why So Many Women Are Dating Less Attractive Men

Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Episode #4 Don't Come Running Every Time He Calls

"When you over invest in a guy too quickly, it extinguishes any initial attraction he  may have felt for you."

- Matthew Hussey, Get the Guy

Today's podcast touches on a very common dating issue found in relationships early on. Listen now to why I think it is really important to not come running every time a man calls you. How have you dealt with that with your own personal experiences?

Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily ;)  

Dear Diary ... Have Hope

“Just knowing you're not alone is often enough to kindle hope amid tragic circumstances.” 

Welcome to my Dear Diary video series on YouTube. It has been a very long time since I have posted a regular video blog, but I am ready to connect with you. 

Let's create a place of inspiration, love, trust, acceptance and let's share our life stories together. 
As always, I love reading emails from readers and viewers on Sweet Cicily, so if you have a question or comment, feel free to send me an email at or on Facebook at Sweet Cicily. I promise to get back with you and make that connection. 

Have a wonderful weekend!

Love Yourselves,

Sweet Cicily


* I accidentally said Adrian and meant Adrial. Sorry, I was really tired when I made this YouTube. My apologies. If you want to find out more information about H Oppotunity please visit .