Derrick Jaxn - Dont Forget Your Crown: Self-Love has everything to do with it

By Derrick Jaxn

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 Derrick Jackson

All rights reserved. This book or any portionthereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoeverwithout the express written permission of the publisher except forthe use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2018

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Some of you know me as the Self-LoveAmbassador, a moniker I felt better suited me than the love gurulabel that latches onto you the moment you voice your perspectiveon relationships.

While by its technical definition of someonewho guides and mentors others in a particular area of life, Iwould, in fact, be considered a guru, the implication behind thatterm is that one knows everything, and Id be the first to tell youI do not. I just know a few things are undeniable, and our societyhasnt learned, yet, to stop trying to deny them.

For example, theres no need for a guy to lieand deceive if all he wants is sex. Many women want the same thing,and it could save everyone a lot of trouble if intentions were madeclear from the beginning. Or the fact that, yes, women areemotional creatures, but so are men. We just show it differentlyor let it build up and all come out at once to the bewilderment ofthe woman whom wed been telling we were just fine the entiretime.

Probably the most undeniable of all is thatwithout self-love, no love matters. It can be poured into usendlessly, but with our broken cup, well still be left empty inthe end. The list goes on, but you get the point.

However, I did not. Not until it was toolate.

On the first day of the spring semester in mysophomore year in college, at age nineteen, I met my future wife,DaNaia. It took me a week to realize it, although I spent severalmonths trying to fight the realization. But I couldnt. Sheunderstood me better than my own mother. She could relate to mebetter than any best friend Id ever had. She intrigued me morethan any passion Id discovered. She was fair and kind in how shedealt with others, but she didnt take shit. She was conservativein how she carried herself, but open-minded enough to have fun. Shewas just imperfect enough to be called a human, but more thanperfect enough for me.

Sound beautiful? Well, it was. About asbeautiful as a brand-new Lamborghini. The problem came when thekeys to it were handed to someone who mentally didnt even have hislearners permit, me. I ran red lights, went the wrong way downone-ways, sped up over potholes, and eventually, you guessed it,wrecked.

It wasnt my original plan, but for lack ofplanning for anything else, it was inevitable despite trying tolearn on the job how to handle the luxury vehicle thatd been putin my possession.

I consulted with friends who turned out notto know any better than I did, and even read dozens of relationshipself-help books, but not only were they a complete snooze, most ofthem were either really preachy or outdated and impractical.

Preachy advice made everything strictly aboutwhat was morally right and wrong, not really a how-to for someonewhod never had any experience. Its nice to know that adestination is beautiful, but it doesnt help if theres no map orGPS detailing how to get there.

Outdated and impractical advice spoke as ifwe were in the 1920s, before there was social media, anoversexualized society, and women who no longer wanted to stay homeand scrub wood panel floors on their knees while the man went towork at the steel mill.

Although relationships lasted longer backthen, todays world is much different, and standards for men arerightfully higher. We cant just bring home the bacon and our jobis done. Women today are bringing home their own bacon and want aman wholl inquire about their day without having to beg him to.They also like flowers every now and then, the ability to have asay-so about decisions thatll affect the family theyreresponsible for increasing, and a man whos willing to beemotionally vulnerable instead of just sexually available.

But it was through those books,friend-to-friend consultations, and quests to find out exactly howthis whole relationship thing worked that I heard things like, Aman gon be a man. Sometimes a womans purpose in a mans life isto prepare him for the next woman. All men cheat, even the goodones. If she loves you enough, shell forgive anything.

And it was through experience with a sprinkleof common sense that I learned almost all of it was garbage. Therest just needed to join us in the twenty-first century, and Ivolunteered myself as chauffeur by way of viral online videos andposts a few years ago.

Did I become an expert? By my measure, notreally, although tens of millions of people who continue to gainvalue from my videos every week would suggest otherwise. I justdont think we need any more of the hand-me-down ideologies thatgot dating and relationships into the trouble theyre in now.

What we need is a brutally honest fact-checkon all the normalized bullshit weve been following and in whichweve been failing for decades yet expecting different results thelonger we continue. That includes the medias false advertising,social medias relationship goals, pastors sermons, grannieswisdom, and yes, even some of our favorite experts expertise.

What we need is a complete overhaul andfundamental insertion of self-love, and thats where I come in.After it fixed my wrecked Lamborghini, its the least I could do toreturn the favor.

If hormones were animals, mine were a pack ofwild dogs--a step above lions in terms of domesticity, but far frombeing sophisticated enough to be anyones house pet. I never onceconsidered grooming them since they were perfect for the newlylegal bachelor life I was living when I began college, and while Inever thought about how it would affect a serious relationship, inthe back of my mind I figured the right woman would inspire thequalities I needed to function in one. But for the time being, myjob was to be as sexually uninhibited as possible, get to class ontime, and stay out of jail.

My sophomore year, there was a wrench thrownin my plans when I saw a gorgeous brown-skinned girl with full lipsand curvy hips walk through the door into my math class. The wrenchwas because she didnt too much exude sex, and the feeling that Igot wasnt the familiar one of lust, but there was somewhat of anaura I was yet intrigued by.

I approached the young lady after class andasked for her number. She told me her name was DaNaia, thenhesitantly took my phone and entered her contact info. Maybe it wasjust to be nice or because she had things to do and didnt feellike small talking, but to me, it didnt matter.

Two un-replied-to text messages and a thirdand final attempt to call her later, we had our first realconversation, and it was on from there.

We clicked, instantly and consistently, overthe following months. Her aura had not misled me one bit inconvincing me she was a dope individual, and I made up my mind thatI didnt want her to be anyone elses, which inadvertently meant,it was time for me to be all hers, as well.