More Columns





JILTGIRL DANA...
...............................................................................................................................................................
If ever a woman should never have been a Jiltgirl, it was Dana. This Jiltgirl, this wonderful, gleaming Dana, only serves to underscore the bitter fact that ANY woman can become a Jiltgirl, no matter how successful, how accomplished or how the corporate world may applaud her accomplishments.

Let us first see a portrait of our Jiltgirl Dana. She has been told she looks like Dorothy Dandridge by aficionados of 1940s and 1950s films, she has also been told she looks like Whitney Houston - at her best, and called a Lena Horne double - with the same infectious, gleaming smile - actually, all comparisons are shockingly accurate. This lady is a GORGEOUS person - with the figure of the body builder - which she is, and the grace of fashion model - she modeled her way through law school, at a height of 5 feet 7, with a tawny, butterscotch complexion. She is a real head turner - her black eyes literally flash and sparkle - add to that an incredible smile that ALWAYS lights up her face - oh, how Dana can truly illuminate a room. Her face is impeccably made up: liquid eyeliner in place, blush intact, golden eyeshadow, eyelashes curled and ebony mascared - her mask is in place... It is safe there - the mask of perfect makeup - the model flawless face ... all women know that there is much safety in perfection ... As to coiffure - well, Dana flies to Los Angeles to have her extensions done every 60 to 90 days - thank you very much - shoulder length waves cascade - black and shiny - and at other times, her hair is ribbon tied in an elegant chignon that simply serves to accentuate her elegance.

Jiltgirl Dana is a corporate attorney at one of the largest banking houses in the world. Jiltgirl Dana is perceived to have it all - she is a mover and shaker in the corporate board room, she is political - she has even been approached to make a run for a Senate nomination. A poised and dynamic public speaker - she can work a room with the tireless politicians' smile and actually revel in the banter and Machiavellian undercurrents that are part of the cocktail/corporate/political scene. God, can she work a room - the phrase "glass ceiling" has no place in Dana's vocabulary. This is the perfect life - right? She has it all - right??? Sorry - not quite. Now you KNOW, Jiltgirls, that Fate NEVER just gives you everything and says - "Enjoy..."

"Do actually you think", says Jiltgirl Dana," that if I had any kind of a life - someone to love - I would even BOTHER with this phony scene?" She and I have been talking about political social matters. Oops - I bet I forgot to tell you - silly me ... Jiltgirl Dana is standing in front of me with tears in her eyes - the erect, proud posture of the power broker has been replaced with the downcast stance of heartbreak, so common to Jiltgirls. "We met," she begins, "at a corporate meeting in Palm Springs. Don was vice president of an insurance company. You know - let's be candid - totally honest here - As a black female executive, my opportunities for meeting someone of color are limited. I'm in my forties, and there just are not that many single men available - of ANY race - white, black, yellow or a flaming magenta. But believe it or not - LOTS of men have pursued me - married men, single men - they all seem to have some sort of erotic fantasy that having sex with a black woman is going to be incredibly exotic, but ... that is all they are interested in when they date me - they aren't really looking for a viable relationship. Just look at the statistics - How many Afro American male CEOs are there in the USA? How many are 40 to maybe 60 years old? How many are single? How many are heterosexual? And, how many don't want Caucasian or Asian women instead? After you have eliminated all the above - the answer, girlfriend, is that there are damn few."

"When I met Don, my life was long on sex, but short on the opportunity of meeting anyone who had any serious interest in me. In looking backwards, I think I was not much more than a unique sexual experience - something different and exotic. I was the exciting combination of being an intellectual equal - a business peer, and the mythical black sex symbol. I am sure that was the perception of many of my lovers over the years. They would date me, sleep with me, but there would always be the implied posture of a business involvement - that this wasn't REALLY a love affair - that we were just two top execs who had a lot in common ... But there were lots of laughs, great hotels and lots of 5 star restaurants. In my heart, I think that I was always really looking for someone to really love, but it just wasn't happening."

"Initially, I was NOT impressed with Don. He was not attractive - balding, paunchy, glasses like an owl, very nondescript. The first time we met at this cocktail reception in Palm springs, he said, "I've been watching you light up this room. You are the most gorgeous, and the most dynamic woman I have ever seen. I decided I just had to meet you - take you to dinner." I wasn't impressed, but he dressed very well - the navy blue suit, the maroon tie, Mr. East Coast corporate - and I happened to be free for dinner. The bank had a business relationship with his company, so sure, why not?"

"Next night, over dinner in the hotel dining room, I get his particulars. He is in his early 40s, never married - Hmm ... NEVER??? OK ... (Different, but I don't really care enough to even think about it ...) An only child. Parents - East Coast Old Money, private schools - they dote on him. Nice dinner ... All through dinner he keeps up a never-ending line about how fascinated his is with me. I look at him across the table and think - Damn, you sure are an ugly sucker, you are so full of bullshit. I could be sick, but who cares - good steak, good wine and I'll never see this fast talking flatterer again. He's giving me this crap so he can get into my pants. I've seen his kind like a million times ... I say the usual, "Thank you for a lovely dinner," shake hands, go my room, and immediately forget his name and everything about him. The times I plan to see him in this lifetime again are never. Remember that I have totally forgotten about him - even his name. But when I get up the next morning, room service delivers a huge bouquet of flowers - and they are from Don - What a hoot! - He wants to see me again..."

"To make a long story short - this man pursues me relentlessly. I live in a different part of the US - he relocates to my city. He moved Heaven and Earth to wangle a corporate transfer. There are flowers, dinners, phone calls every day - he is a man who is - and I quote him- "Crazy in love". In two months we are sleeping together - while he is not that good in bed, what he lacks in technique and imagination, he more than makes up for in affection and tenderness. Don is so generous to me, amusing, gracious, kind - I am also starting to look at him differently - he just can't do enough for me, and I am beginning to believe that this may be - finally - Mr. Right. He takes me to Hawaii for a week - this isn't the great romance of the century - we have become great friends as well as lovers - and candidly and openly talked about the fact that he is Caucasian and I am black. He stated that it absolutely makes no difference and although he has never dated a black woman, we have so much in common, that the racial issue is irrelevant."

"On the second year anniversary of dating he proposed - he gave me a 2-carat diamond and asked me to marry him. I am VERY happy - I accept - and we set a date for the following fall. The months roll on - we are within 60 days of our wedding. I still have never met his parents - they lived in Scottsdale - although I have spoken to them on the phone - he said not to tell them about the engagement - he wanted to make it a surprise."

"The night I'll remember 'till I am old - I am at his house, and we have been talking all day about the wedding - and we are in the master bedroom. I am just sitting on the bed in my bra and pants - prattling on about the wedding, the flowers, the cake, what flavor icing, number of guests... He walks out the bathroom, just out of the shower - a Turkish towel wrapped around his waist and says, "Jesus, you look just like a man." "Huh?" I respond. I think I have misunderstood him - he is usually so gracious - I think he's kidding, though I think - a really sarcastic humor. Then he says, "Yea, you look like a man - small boobs, flat-chested and muscles all over, no fat, no curves - you look like a guy - like a boy." I say, "But you've always known that...you know I don't have a big bust - what is it with you??" He has definitely gone CRAZY, I think. He says, with fury - accusingly, "And, YOU'RE BLACK!" I say, "You've known that from the first moment you saw me. We've been together almost 3 years, for Gods sake. Are you sick? What's wrong with you? WHAT????" He says, "Well, my folks don't know you're black. I never sent them the engagement photos. If they see you, I'll be disinherited. After all, Dana, I'm an only child, remember? I get it all -- the whole estate - but..." he laughs, "This has been fun...fun...fun..." I am almost crazy. I am hurt - scared - my heart pounds - my hands are shaking - I have to sit on the bed, because there is so much hurt that I think I might fall over - oh, please God - and I think my heart will really break this hurts so much - I am crying now - I am ready to beg - do anything - this is my life - almost 3 years of it - I say, "Oh, Don - Oh, please - Oh, no, oh please, no - This can't be it - Don't do this now - You KNEW I was black 2 seconds after you met me. You act as if I lied or something. What is wrong? Just tell me!" I am crying and begging... "Dana," he says, "Pack up your stuff and get out - we're through."

"I packed up my clothes. I cancelled the caterers - hung the wedding dress in the closet in a plastic garment bag - and kept the ring. Then I just about died for about 2 years. My God - he was a sick liar - but you know," Dana says, "It still hurts, though 10 years later - and the wedding dress - it's still waiting in the bag..."

................................................................................................................................................................
And yet ANOTHER Jiltgirl is born...