Yesterday, new pics surfaced of singer Fantasia Barrino and her on/off beau Antwaun Cook vacationing on a yacht in the Bahamas. And yes, that’s the same dude whose wife, Paula, sued Fanny last year for creeping with her husband. And yes again, that lawsuit is what Fanny credited as the final factor in her highly publicized suicide attempt.
In an all-too-candid interview on VH1’s “Behind the Music,” she confessed, “I was tired of people doing me wrong, constantly, over and over again… I was over it.” And yes, yes, yes! Fanny and the same father of two are seemingly back together, and possibly with child. (Tasia’s tummy is huge in the vacay pics.)
If a woman can let herself go so crazy over a man that she crawls into her own dang closest and takes a bottle of pills, and then gets back with that mofo, then that is her business. No amount of calling out and putting on blast is going to help a woman see the light, which is what I ultimately want for ‘Tasia.
There are few things that can create or accelerate a woman’s downfall like loving the wrong man. And I hate that a woman as talented (and young) as Fanny is on a path to apparent destruction. And I know, I know, the jury may have found her not guilty of breaking up a marriage, and yes, ‘Twaun was married when they met. Her actions may not deserve our sympathy, but she does. Fanny is lost. She needs a hug, not another critique hanging her out to dry. There are certain things about love that we as women need to know, and maybe Fanny missed the memo or never saw a healthy relationship up close. Whatever the cause of the lack of her information, let me help you out: love is supposed to feel good.
There’s a type of guy I wrote about in my earlier blogs. I call a “B.” Loosely, he’s “not really reliable. He’s definitely inconsistent and usually not entirely honest,” however, when you’re around him, “suddenly life gets way more interesting. Your emotions run the full gamut; you are a wreck operating at a near constant state of stereotypical PMS… ” This guy? The B? The one who makes you want to act crazy to get his attention, which ticks you off so bad you want to throw your own damn electronics, or worse, and makes you consider taking your own life, is not the guy for you. I don’t care how good the sex (or the money) is, and he’s usually bringing one or the other to the table in abundance. Whatever he brings, that emotional roller coaster isn’t love; it’s classic dysfunction.
If you’re that chick, with that guy, do what Fantasia hasn’t and run, don’t walk, to the nearest exit. Go, and stay gone. Your sanity depends on it.