After I live tweeted her impromptu engagement party, she inboxed me this shocking message with a scandalous, lustful ending.
“Andrea,” he said, looking me in my eyes, “your fiancée, Keyshia and I are threesome partners. Well… we were. Look, he loves you ok, I know he loves you if I know NOTHING else, but he loves us too……”
By: Ebrahim Aseem
“E, thank you for using your platform to help me. I have no real girlfriends I can trust. My last ‘bestie’ slept with my previous EX. I always love the insight the queens who follow you give. Please ask them the following questions & keep me & his name anonymous.
If you’re reading this, know I desperately need your advice on my love life.
I met the love of my life two years ago at CAL Berkeley. As a photojournalism major, I always have my camera in hand, ready to snap unforgettable memories in time. So, when I saw this fine, tall, athletic, chocolate hunk of a man running suicide drills during my cardio walk to the coffee shop lol, I had to shoot him. Click. Click.
He said, “say, baby… can I be your slave? I’ve got to admit girl you’re the shit girl… and I’m digging you like a grave.”
I immediately clinched my thighs to prevent from squirting. This man had not only quoted poetry from my favorite movie, he had debunked the assumption in my mind that all athletes were unintelligent.
“What you know about Love Jones?” I asked him, trying my hardest to fight off a smile.
“I know I got one, for your body and your skin tone. My name is Patrick. What’s your name?” he said walking up to me & reaching out his hand, with a smile brighter than headlights in heavy fog.
At that moment, I knew he could get it. My hand in marriage, as well as my panties. Guys don’t know, that slight smile shit they do, showing just the right amount of pearly whites, with the raised eyebrow joint poppin, lawd hah mercy! Makes a woman have inappropriate thoughts. I wanted to rub my hands up against his chiseled chest right then and there!
“My name is Andrea. Are you somebody important?” I asked, losing my battle to fight off my smile. “Someone I should know about?”
“Not yet,” he said, “but I will be. I can tell you’re the type of girl who loves to ask a bunch of questions. Let me take you to grab some coffee and you and that camera can ask me anything you want.”
Not only did I let him take me for coffee, I let him in my life, and in my heart forever.
He was a gentleman. Held open doors. Studied with me every night. Text me throughout the day. Took me on dates. Bought me flowers. Held my hand. Said, ‘I love you’ in front of his homies. He even meet my father who hated all my boyfriends, and my father just loved him.
This man didn’t have side pieces and always put his little fans on Instagram in check when they got emoji happy. Y’all know how thirsty females do. They see a good loyal man and try to test his loyalty. Patrick never had me looking stupid on social networks throughout our whole two-year relationship.
So, right after the Super Bowl this Sunday, when his EX girlfriend Keisha tweeted,
“kinda don’t know how to feel right now, my bd just proposed to a Boo Boo Kitty wannabe while I’m expecting wit our 2nd bundle of joy”
it hurt, because I never even knew she was his EX, let alone that they had any children together.
I met Keisha before I met Patrick, but it wasn’t like me and her were friends. Her and I just happened to have the same hairstylist on campus. We’d both hosted the same club events a couple of times, but we never hung out together. We didn’t even have each other’s phone number. We just followed each other on twitter.
I never saw any pictures of her & Patrick online, nor did they ever tweet each other. I checked Patrick’s mentions periodically. It’s not something I am proud of, but when you find a rare good man, it can make you a little insecure if you’ve never been blessed to have one.
I now know why Keisha tweeted that after Patrick proposed to me, but at the time I was too hurt to think with the right side of my brain. I pulled her to the side and gave her a piece of my mind.
“Excuse me, but what the fuck is this about?” I asked Keisha, holding up my phone so she could see I saw her sub-tweet.
“Something I said?” Keisha said smugly, sipping her IPA.
“You know what you said Keisha,” I tried to reason, calming myself down.
“What’s wrong?” one of the other girl’s at the party asked us.
“I’m expecting and Patrick is my baby’s father,” Keisha answered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Other than that, everything is just peachy.”
I took my earrings off. Patrick came over and put his hands around my waist. Keisha poured a little of her beer in my direction, making a ‘oops’ face to pretend it was an accident.
“Now we’re pouring drinks bitch?’ I asked, fighting Patrick off. Keisha winked at me, which damn near made me lose it.
“Babe, be cool, she’s a straight up liar,” Patrick told me, calming me down.
“Oh, you ain’t my baby’s daddy?” Keisha asked Patrick. “You ain’t tell her?”
“Patrick?” I asked, staring in his eyes. He exhaled deeply, then after ten seconds of silence, he answered.
“Keisha and I have a daughter together,” Patrick admitted, with his head down.
“When the hell were you planning to tell me you had a daughter Patrick,” I asked, freeing myself from his grasp, “after she walked down the aisle as the flower girl at our wedding?”
I stormed out of Ebrahim’s party room and into the women’s restroom. A minute later, Patrick followed me in.
“I got my eyes clothed, just incase there are any other women in here,” Patrick yelled.
“Nah, it’s ok,” I told him, “even tho this is a women’s only restroom, you can come in, since you wanna act like a little bitch. How the fuck are you going to have me out here looking like your fool in front of all these people and not let me know you were fucking this Iggy wannabe?”
“Babe, It’s not even like that!” Patrick assured me in a stern voice. “Look, after she found out she was pregnant, Keisha texted me and told me I was the father. An hour later she texted me that she had gotten an abortion. We didn’t even get to discuss it, because at the time, I was in Oregon with the team, playing the Ducks.”
“Then how the hell are you the father of her children?” I asked.
“She lied about the abortion,” he yelled. “I only found out after she posted pics of her & the newborn baby in the hospital, and tagged me in them on Instagram. I had to rush to remove the tag, before texting her asking what the fuck was going on. She told me, she wanted to keep the baby, and that she didn’t want me in my daughter’s life. She said she wanted to raise it on her own and that she only had a baby by me, because she wanted a pretty mixed baby with my green eyes and curly hair.”
“The fuck? You should’ve let me slap that high yella heffa while I had the chance,” I complained.
“I know babe, you can still do it, I’m sure she’s still out there,” he joked.
“Don’t tempt me,” I complained. “ I need you to be completely honest with me. Is that baby inside her yours or nah babe?”
“Ain’t no way,” he said, “I haven’t slept with her since before you and I even met. Ever since I made it to the league, she’s been trying to DM me and text me, asking to hook-up, but I just ignored her.
“Hold up, why are you even still following her on Instagram?” I asked. “I feel like I don’t even know you right now. You should have been told me you had a daughter. God. I can’t even go back out there, I’m so embarrassed right now. Can you just give me a minute alone?”
After arguing with me, Patrick left me alone in the restroom to think. I spent several minutes sitting on the toilet seat, fully clothed crying. I felt stupid.
I went on Keisha’s twitter and scroll down her tweets for the past eight months for answers. I didn’t find anything about Patrick, just pictured of her & her current boyfriend. I went on Instagram & tried searching her twitter handle, then her name. Nothing. That’s when I noticed Ebrahim poster about what had just happened on his Instagram page.
There were 100s of comments from women offering advice. It made me feel better. Somehow, reading personal testimonies from all the women across the globe who’d gone through something similar made me felt like i wasn’t alone. I felt empowered. I started to comment thank yous, but I didn’t want to put myself on blast. I wiped my runny make-up off, took a deep breath & returned to the party, confident & empowered. I knew what I had to do.
When I walked in the Party room, everyone was standing by the bar and Ebrahim was speaking life into them.
“But, I have to speak the truth to you,” Ebrahim said. “As men, we will pat another man on the back for disloyal behavior that holds back his manhood and mental maturity. That’s not a homie, that’s an enabler.”
“You always say we come from African kings right?” a man with a neat-dreads said. “Well, didn’t they have a harem full of hoes?” Shit, Patrick is just one step ahead of us. Side piece is the new wifey, I’m just keeping it royal.”
“How the hell can having multiple women make you a king, if you’re sitting on a throne of dishonesty, wearing a crown of infidelity to mask your receding insecurity?” Ebrahim said. “Bro, you know these brothas only have side pieces, because they lack the ability to keep one woman satisfied, in the mind and in the bedroom, so they build a team of side pieces.
The reason some men never cut off Ex-girlfriends is, he’s using the attention & love his ex gives him to extinguish the heartbreaking complacency he feels for not being on his current girlfriend’s level. An insecure man’s pride is his loyal woman’s worst enemy.”
“Honestly, and I will keep it one hunnit right now,” neat-dreads said, “the real reason niggas keep their ex around and have side pieces is, because sometimes your girlfriend can get annoying. Y’all know I’m right. The nagging and repeating shit over and over, like damn calm that shit down. Y’all talk ya man into some new pussy.”
“If it is annoying to you when the loyal woman who loves you, sees the best in you and prays for you, respectfully speaks her mind with words to make you better, you simply don’t deserve her,” Ebrahim said. His words were empowering me.
“If she mentions it more than once, it’s bothering her. Don’t make her always have to seem crazy for noticing our inconsistencies. Listen. When she says, “it doesn’t matter” it always does. She’s just wants to see if you care enough to realize what matters to her. Listen more. How is it hard to listen? If she says it more than once, it means you didn’t love her enough to listen the first time.
Cheating and lying is for boys of insecurity, marriage and fatherhood is for men of valor. Patrick, you have to decide which one you are before you ask Andrea for a lifetime of loyalty.”
“Thank you Ebrahim,” Keisha said. “I ain’t hating on your marriage or nothing Andrea, I’m just trying to protect my babies’ future.”
“I don’t believe you,” I told Keisha. “You wish you were me. You wish you had this fat rock on your finger. You wish you were marrying a NFL player. You wish you were wife material, but you’re not. You’re just side hoe material, and the fucked up thing is, that’s good enough for you, isn’t it? You l’re the crazy EX Patrick always talks about. The one who left him after he got injured against USC.
Well, I AM the woman who motivated him through rehab. I AM the woman who studied his ass out of academic probation. I AM the woman who held him down after his father died. I AM the woman who earned this ring, and I will not let your jealousy, lies and misery destroy my engagement. There’s no way Patrick could be your unborn’s father. You and your man have been a couple for months. How do you know it’s not his?”
Keisha smiled really hard, like she’d just heard a dirty joke.
“It’s both of there’s Andre,” Keisha said.
My heart sank. I tried to replay what she’d just said in my mind, but the sound of everyone voicing how shocked they were was too loud for me to think through.
“You’re full of shit!” Patrick yelled, trying to fight off the other men who were holding him back from getting in Keisha’s face.
“No, you’re full of shit!” Keisha’s boyfriend yelled, breaking his silence.
He looked like a building. Tall, brown, bald and muscular. When he spoke, he spoke with authority.
“You are a coward!” Keisha’s boyfriend yelled. “What are you afraid of bruh? It’s 2015. Embrace who you are. There’s nothing for us to be ashamed of anymore.”
My head was throbbing. I had no idea what was going on, but somehow, my heart knew what was about to be said, because it was beating hard and fast non-stop.
“Andrea,” Keisha’s boyfriend said, looking me in my eyes, “your fiancée, Keyshia and I are threesome partners. Well… we were. Look, he loves you ok, I know he loves you if I know NOTHING else, but he loves us too.
I never meet you, but I know a lot about you, because all Patrick does is talk about you. He screams your name during our threesomes. Now, usually we wear condoms, but that shit just got old real quick you know what I mean? So, I’m figuring based off what Keisha is saying, Patrick and I both got Keyshia pregnant together before Thanksgiving break, while you and him were on your relationship break.”
“Wait, how the hell can two men get one woman pregnant?” one of the Italian men holding Patrick back asked. He sized Patrick up in disgust.
“Just use your imagination,” Keyisha’s boyfriend said. “Two men, one box.”
“Ewwwwwwww,” all the women in the room screamed.
“Ooooooooooooh!” all the men in the room yelled.
I held onto the nearest chair, gripped it, and fought so hard not to cry. I felt broken into a million little pieces. I felt like the whole world was staring at my brokeness.
“You know what? I’m done,” I said with a laugh, before walking away. I know I probably looked crazy for laughing at a time like that, but in stressful times I laugh to keep from going insane.
I got in my car and drove across the bridge to go home. Every 20 seconds, my phone rang with a notification from either Patrick calling, my girls texting or Instagram activity. I ignored them all until I got home. I cried the whole drive home, and a little in my driveway as I sat in my car, thinking about my life.
I came up with three questions I would love anyone reading to help answer for me:
(1) If the DNA test proves Patrick is not the father of Keisha’s unborn baby, should I go through with marrying him? Break-up with him? or just cancel the engagement until we grow closer? Because as much as I hate to admit it, I still love him. Ebrahim offered to give us counseling no matter which I decide.
(2) Do you consider a man ‘gay’ for having male-female-male threesomes?
(3) If you met the love of your life, the best person you ever dated, would the fact they have a child by a crazy, jealous EX be a deal breaker to you?
(4) What do you think is wrong with me? Like what did I do wrong to deserve being lied to and cheated on? I am intelligent, independent, ambitious, beautiful, fit, curvy with a genuine soul. I treated every man I ever committed to like a king, and I have been lied to, cheated on and even abused by my high school sweetheart. I just want a happy life and I planned to be married by graduation, which is this spring. I just feel so hopeless, so any insight and criticism is welcomed. Thank you and much love to you for taking out the time to hear my story. Hopefully it helps some woman out there.”
*Please include the number of the question in your comment, so she can know which one you’re answering.
I changed the names & edited her email to protect the privacy of all parties.*
By: Ebrahim Aseem
Author of the book, “Why Men Cheat on Loyal Women”
Motivational #SpeakLife vidoes: Youtube.com/RealNewsmagazine
I prefer COURTING over "talking". I resent society deems it "soft" for a man to be caring, chivalrous & monogamous. I'm tough AND affectionate. I aspire to be a father & husband. What you brothas get from having 5-minute sex with multiple girls who lack consciousness is beyond me.😒 No shade. Do you, but I just want forever with that one 💍👰💒👪🏡✈🗼 #EbrahimAseem #SpeakLife