“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet
Alright, so I literally had to Urban Dictionary this shit;
Urban Dictionary: The other woman. Also see Goomad.
So naturally, I looked up Goomad: Italian Term for the broad you’re banging on the side. The other woman.
While I was on my Googling journey, I came across this catchy little tune entitled Side Pieces by Drake and Brian McKnight that I listened to probably twenty times in part because its Drake and Brian McKnight and the fact that its actually hilarious, each time making me painfully aware of how pathetic dating can actually be.
I know you’ll never be more
And you’ll always be less
But there’s comfort in knowing that you’re okay being second best
I already got a starter but I’m looking for the rest of my team
This is probably one of those terms that was invented to cover up the negative stigma that clouds “The Other Woman” or “Mistress” (ew) but side piece well, that sounds like something you could handle, maybe even a little bit classy (lol, yeah right) and that perhaps you don’t need to reevaluate every aspect of your life.
Have I ever been someone’s side piece? 100% I have, I don’t know if I know anyone who hasn’t been someone’s side piece at one point in their life or another whether they knew it at the time or not. Are you kind of an asshole if you know you’re the side piece and keep him in your roster anyways? Maybe. Okay probably, but no judgements girl, it’s your journey.
I ended up going out with this football player who I’d met on some random dating app and when he invites you to his house as your “first date” (we’re going to loosely use the word date here) if you don’t know what’s going to happen, well, honey, you shouldn’t be going to his house then. Naturally I texted his name and address to my girl, you know, safety and shit. I knocked on his door and in less than ten minutes of me being there, my skanky ass was naked. I couldn’t be ashamed, I had to own it; one thing I’ve learned, life is way too short to be embarrassed of your inner slut, let her free girl.
You know how they say, it’s not the size that matters, it’s how he uses it? Well boy was hitting tens in every category. It was a memorable afternoon that had me smiling for a few days; until I realized the sweet nothings he was whispering in my ear, he was whispering them in other ears too. I wasn’t just the side piece, I was one in a harem of side pieces. There were no rules, it wasn’t a relationship, I basically showed up at his doorstep in my birthday suit begging to be touched by this sexy giant, but in the end, it wasn’t enough for me. One thing I learned from this experience was the fact that I’m not okay with fighting for someone’s attention, I’m greedy and I want all of it.
So the questionable morals of the side piece fairy tale, should you settle for being runner up? (hell no) Remember, you’re a side piece for a reason, that reason being he’s a shitty human being.
Side Pieces – just another play in the mindfuckery game of dating. Don’t share your crown, girl; wear it, own it, you’re a queen.