Write On Grrrl

Voice of Empowerment. Not reason.

Dear Kim Humphries, ah, Kardashian

Dear Kim Humphries, ah, Kardashian,

Bit of a rough week, heh?

Seventy-two days of marriage. And then bam! It's over before it began.

Ouch. That's got to hurt, especially since your sister Khloe's got two years of marriage under her belt, after a shorter courtship than yours. Full disclosure, here in little Rhody, we think Lam Lam's a-ok, even though he did bail on our beloved URI for the NBA, without sticking around for a degree. Really man. No degree? But I digress.

Know what, Kim? I give you props for getting out quick. Life's too short, right? And so many couples stay together, completely miserable, for way too long. So bravo for your decisiveness.

Granted, I don't know you, well, at all. But you do appear in my living room on the regular, so I can't just sit by and say nothing. Especially when you seem like you could use some advice.

See, the truth is, I really don't claim to be a relationship expert. But I've been with my husband for nineteen years, and married for nearly thirteen. And that's gotta to be worth something. Especially since we still really do enjoy each other's company. A lot.

I met Andre when I was twenty-one. And trust me, the prince charming of my checklist, didn't quite match up with the one I fell for: an unemployment collecting, part-time cinema working, Chevy Sprint driving, outside of my race dude. But what a match we are. I am grateful every day that I have this kind of love in my life. And my man, are you listening Mr. Odom, has earned, not one, but two degrees in our time together.

Dear Kim, I want the same for you. The man, that is, not the diplomas.

Sigh, I watched your four hour wedding extravaganza, all right; it distracts me when I'm working out. And the truth is, I knew that you and the mister weren't going to make the long haul, even with your over-the-top diamond headdress and flawless make-up.  

Life's hard, doll. And if you don't want to sit together during your rehearsal dinner, or can't find room for your honey in your perfect white (decor, not race) world, there's gonna be issues. Couldn't you feel that underlying tension between you? Not love, no matter how much you loved that ring. Or that dress. Or the second one. Or the third.

Damn girl, didn't you get tired of changing?

Truthfully, it's that image you've been cultivating that's the real problem. The same one that's brought you riches and fame. A beautiful, dark-haired, big-eyed princess with a killer body, that every girl wants to be, and every boy wants to be with. Only problem is, you can't come up with that happy ending, no matter how hard you've tried to stage it for the cameras.

So, here's my radical proposition for you: Give up the hunt.

Yup, that's right. No more boys, until you're okay with being you. No, I mean really okay being you. You've got to change your motivations. Go to the party for the party, not because you think that maybe, just maybe, you'll meet your match. Experience life. Meet people. Wear pretty outfits. But whatever you do, don't try to fall in love.

In fact, don't even think about falling in love. Don't long to fall in love. Don't be sad about not falling in love. Don't think about the bambinos that you're not having. Or the anniversaries you're not celebrating. Don't mourn for that secret couple world you think you're missing out on.

Just be. Got that?

Oh, and, there is something else you could do. Right now, you've got the attention of what seems to be the entire universe. So how 'bout you go ahead and use your platform and give the single ladies out there a shout out. Tell them that they're okay all by themselves. That no one, that's right, no one, needs a man to complete them.

Not even you.