He too sassy, I’m too classy.

Live from Mykonos.

The view is beautiful, the outfits are even better, and I had no idea I’d need this trip as a reminder that I really got me 🥰 for real.

Let’s start here: everything was covered. The flight, the villa, the food, the wine… all paid for. And I appreciate that. I do. I don’t move like a girl who can’t pay for her own things, I move like a girl who knows she doesn’t have to. So when someone wants to do for me, I let them. Especially when the trip sounds like romantic date nights and sunset rooftop dinners. That’s what I packed for.

I showed up soft. Feminine. Pretty.

My suitcase was full of looks that he actually approved of. Dresses he said he liked. Styles he thought I looked good in. I wanted him to be happy. I really thought this was a “us” trip.

But what I didn’t pack for was the disrespect.

From the moment he landed, his energy was off.

He was passive aggressive. He had an attitude for no reason. He moved like someone who didn’t want to be touched or bothered but still expected me to smile, show up, and play my role.

Sassy is honestly an understatement.

If I’m being real, he gave me more diva than date. More feminine than flirtatious. More competition than connection.

At first, I was confused. Then it clicked.

This man isn’t attracted to me…. not really.

This man doesn’t even like women…🥱

And now that I think about it, nothing about this trip was actually for me.

This wasn’t about spoiling a woman. It was about performing masculinity.

Putting on a show for the group chat, the family, the followers.

He wants people to see he’s with me. He’s quick to record me, post me, like he’s trying to prove something. Like being seen with EatMahKandy earns him points. Like being next to a woman makes him more of a man.

But real ones can always tell when the vibes are off.

I’m not judging him. I actually feel bad for him.

His father is a big name back home. That whole proud, powerful African legacy is sitting on his back, and he’s folding under the pressure.

So here I am 😌 the soft, pretty, respectable woman by his side.

A good look. A great cover.

A beard 😒

I stayed sweet. I still showed up. I still looked good. I took my pictures. I drank my wine. I didn’t let it ruin my trip. But at this point, I can’t unsee what I’ve seen or unfeel what I’ve felt.

So okay I’m gonna put a smile on my face and continue on with grace.

Let’s see how he ruins today.

Because truthfully?

He too sassy, I’m too classy.

We’re not a good mix.

And honestly?

Maybe it’s best I leave him here in Mykonos…

To find the man of his dreams.

I heard this is a good place for that.

😌🤏🏽 ——— clock it.