So you keep dating fuckboy, eh? I hear you, I feel you. Because for a long time I did too.
It’s like I was the ying to the fuckboys yang, the Yoko to their Lennon. I could not get enough of them and them of me. No matter how much I said I wanted a healthy, committed relationship with a man who loved me reciprocally, I ended up with a fucking fuck boy.
What is a fuckboy exactly? If you haven’t figured it out quite yet, a fuckboy is a player. A man who can’t commit and sleeps around instead. In Dominican speak, a fuckboy is un mujeriogo and kind of a loser.
I met my first fuckboy at 18 year old, decades before the term came to be. His name is Kurt, and although I didn’t fuck him, he treated me like a piece of caca and played with my heart and mind despite the fact that I was in luuuuuuuuuuuurve with him. I now know it was stupid, pathetic, unrequited puppy love, but at the time, I wanted and needed Kurt to desire me. He knew that and used me. He had me on the shelf. Way back! And I let him.
That’s right, I said I let him. I allowed this fuckboy to enter my life (in and out, in and out) for 10 years. 10 years!!! That’s on me.
Why did I allow it? You ask. I wasn’t crazy, I knew exactly what I wanted – him. And I tell you my reasons on this podcast episode. Press play to listen to episode 65 of Love Sujeiry: Talk Served Raw where myself and Jenny from MindfulMamis.com dish on fuckboys – why we date them, love them and keep going back to them.