Editor’s note: This is part 2 of a multipart series. Catch up with part 1.

Recently, a couple I have known for a long time split up—much to the surprise and disappointment of everyone around them. They were the kind of couple that threw amazing dinner and cocktail parties, who were the picture of love and affection everywhere they went, and generally made you feel good whenever you were…

New year, new me. People make fun of that saying, but if you think about it, it is a mood, a message and a lifestyle. Each year on Dec. 31, we shed at least some part of our old selves and take on new habits, ideas or mantras. For me, Dec. 31, 2017, was no exception.

Sunday night will be the last Sunday night of 2017. For some, it will be the last night they can stay up as late as they want before starting out a new year at work Tuesday morning.

Your MCM was secretly engaging in personal relationships with three women on the timeline, lying to each of them, telling each of them lies about the other in an attempt to pit them against one another, all the while denying accountability for his actions by saying, “We were just talking.” He’s 33.

Would you believe that as we near the end of the year 2017, there are still men out there who have not mastered the art of cunnilingus? It’s true, my sisters—I have met them. I shit you not. And it is the most frustrating thing ever.

On Friday morning, Ann Coulter sent out a tweet about single people living empty, quiet lives of desperation and dying alone.

On Thursday night, I was looking at the Facebook post that linked to my column on raunchy twerk anthems. As I do on our main site, I like to engage with the readers in the comments. As I read through what people were saying, I noticed a disturbing pattern: A great number of men were criticizing me for talking about…

I know I am not the only person with a playlist full of raunchy songs that get me in the mood to twerk all over my apartment whenever I play them. I actually have two: one I call the “Ratchet” playlist and the other called “Let’s Twerk.” They are my guilty pleasures.

There was a time when sex on the first date was considered taboo. Is that still a thing?

Last week, over chicken wings and tequila, one of my girlfriends relayed a story to me that was hilarious, embarrassing and troubling all at the same time. She had a sexual encounter with a man who knew absolutely nothing about foreplay. He kissed her one or two times, slid into her without even making sure she was…

Sometimes we want someone so badly, we overlook all the warning signs and red flags that should send us running in the opposite direction. Other times, we are already waist-deep in emotions and feelings before we realize that the dude has no intentions toward us, accepts no accountability for his actions and is really…

I can’t count how many times I played Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor,” singing along to the lyrics, woefully aware of the fact that she was telling my life with her song. I couldn’t let him go. I couldn’t get him out of my system. I kept letting him back in.

I spent $300 on bras last week. Lane Bryant had an incredible sale: any single bra for $29.50. On Thanksgiving night, I bought four bras on their website. On Black Friday, I bought six more. I felt accomplished. This was a big fucking deal. I couldn’t keep it to myself. I had to share it with all my ample-bosomed…

In one of my previous posts, I asserted that I am, in fact, a size queen. I am also queen-size, but that’s a different post for a different time.

Welcome to The Root After Dark, where I get to talk about all the things Danielle Belton (our editor-in-chief), Genetta Adams (our managing editor) and Yesha Callahan (our deputy managing editor) won’t let me talk about during the day. This is going to be fun for me, and I hope it is fun and enjoyable for you as well.…