Basically, you meet a guy that you like, you go on a couple dates with him, maybe you sleep with him, then he becomes your boyfriend. I’m not positive about the exact order of events, but you understand what I mean. You start cooking for him, cleaning up his apartment, spending the night at his place, and whatever other benefits come along with being in a committed relationship. Ideally, you both cut off all contact with previous partners and refuse the affections of all suitors. You are essentially his wife.
Except for the fact that you are not his wife.
Your boyfriend is getting all the benefits of marriage: exclusivity, sex (usually unprotected, eek!) constant companionship and a hot plate upon his return from work. If you meet another nice young man who wants to court you, you have to pass. He may, in fact, be the man you are supposed to be with. You’ll never know. Eventually, this relationship will end, for whatever reason. And you’re supposed to do this over and over throughout your teens and twenties until one of these boyfriends proposes.
Here is where I feel like we got the game twisted: By the time marriage rolls around, I’ll have more baggage than RHOA’s Marlo Hampton did in South Africa. No, I don’t believe in boyfriends. I believe in dating. Meeting a nice guy and going out on a few dates or having great conversation and getting to know each other as friends. Me going back to my place at the end of the night, him going back to his. Meeting another nice guy and going out on a few more dates. I believe in men courting women, and when you’re a good woman, I believe that a good man will recognize that you are not girlfriend material– you’re wife material.