Latest news with #ShirleyWilliams
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Dating Coaches Are On the Rise. Some Women Are Investing Thousands
In October 2023, after two years of no dating — preoccupied caring for her sick parents and recovering from a difficult break-up — Shirley Williams, 39, implemented a new strategy to find her husband. First, she'd complete self-evaluation exercises, where she'd discover her flirting style and humor type, but also her hang ups: overly assertive and unreceptive. Next, she'd overcome her reluctance to dating apps, creating profiles on Bumble, Match, and Hinge. If she matched with 170 men, only 30 would make it to the next round in a process called 'funneling,' weeding out those who could get her number. When only four made an impression upon Williams — who used a strict 20-minute phone screening to determine whether or not they could take her on a physical date — they had a week to ask her out. (She would only agree to quick meetings over coffee or ice cream.) Only one man, Ty, would keep her interest. By their 10th date, he asked her to be his girlfriend. In January, he asked her to be his wife and they eloped on April 29th. She credits her happy ending to Anwar White — the self proclaimed 'Fairy God Brother' whose 'Get Your Guy' program guided her through the process. 'I invested $10,000 into my dating coach Anwar White and met my fiance in one year…on Hinge,' Williams told her 4,400 followers on TikTok in April. 'Anwar always preaches 'You are the CEO of your love life,' and I am the CEO of Willie B Studios,' says Williams, referring to her content studio. 'We are doing very well over there, and I needed to be taking the same strategies and tactics and bringing them into my love life.' Only 3,500 people liked Williams' post, but her video circulated over 10,000 times, sparking a conversation within Black social spaces: Was Williams a victim of exploitation, or was her investment necessary? If she could afford it and it worked, who cares? 'I've been working with [Williams] for multiple years,' White tells Rolling Stone. 'A lot of people are focused on the price point because it's a fair amount of money, but they're not understanding that that price is me being available to her 24/7, for multiple years at a time, but also all of my intellectual property.' (He has more affordable classes starting at $149.) Over the past few months, the topic of Black women's ignorance in dating men has gained traction online. White wants to change the narrative for women like Williams, and his 586 clients to date. More from Rolling Stone F1's Popularity Is Revving Up. Romance Authors Are Getting In on the Action Zohran Mamdani's Primary Triumph Has People Nervous. Could This Be ... Joy ? He's Not the Left's Joe Rogan - But He May Be Even Better Yet in a tech-forward world, which has contributed to the loneliness epidemic, paired with an overall decline in marriage, has the rise of dating content and coaching become a business tactic preying upon women's desperations and vulnerabilities? Or are dating coaches, like Anwar White, responding to a cultural need and building a new ethic within the dating and marriage sphere? 'I want Black women to be very self-centered,' White tells Rolling Stone. According to Census data, heterosexual Black women, like Williams, are the least likely to marry. 'I coined this term called 'white women audacity,' because having that in dating is very important. It's about you focusing on yourself, making sure you're happy and that your pleasure is first. A lot of women, specifically Black women, have been conditioned to prioritize their parents or men and that's not something that is going to serve them.' White's insight into the dating world comes from his experience as a Black gay man, and from observing the relationships of his maternal figures, who raised him in Georgia. His great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother were each married three times. 'This work is very personal to me. I've seen a firsthand account of this landscape and what it can do for Black women.' White found his first clients on the elementary school playground, where he paired up his peers. But after he completed his MBA at Columbia University in 2010, he realized his gift and started his business. 'Being a gay male, I navigated both boy and girl circles,' says White. He noticed how successful his women friends were in their careers, but not in love. 'I was like 'Let me take this over,' and before I knew it, they were in relationships within a couple months and in a couple of years they were either engaged or married.' By 2015, after advising dozens of friends and family, White was being recommended to extended networks. He'd soon quit his corporate job in fashion and become a certified dating coach. In 2020, when the pandemic hit, he was among the dozens of dating coaches who migrated to TikTok and Instagram reels, expanding his clientele even more. White is not without his critics: Some believe that, regardless of his sexuality, it is problematic for a man to be dictating women's lives and behaviors. Yet White maintains his intentions are not to mislead. 'I'm not a single man out here or cheating on his wife or some narcissist trying to get women to fall in love with me,' says White, who is married. 'Ninety percent of this work is inner work, it's not male centered. It's about understanding their clarity and using dating as an opportunity to practice,' a practice that White feels historically, Black people, especially women, haven't had autonomy to do freely. Dr. Sarah Adeyinka-Skold, a professor and researcher of gender and sociology at Loyola Marymount University, believes it's unfair to judge how Black women choose to find love. 'It would behoove people, even Black women, to ask, 'Why am I mad when a Black woman decides this is how she's going to solve her problem?' she says. 'Black women are the most disadvantaged in the dating market because of the way American society is structured. We have to survive racism and sexism at the same time, which creates people who are disintegrated in a system that is not set up for them to win.' In a recent post, labeled 'What To Say While You Are Dating,' White pushes women to 'talk their shit.' 'You cannot be cute and mute while dating,' he says in a video that received over 91,000 likes. 'Sometimes that's really hard for women because they've been conditioned and programmed to perform for men and we're not doing that anymore, that's lame…Let's start with boundaries.' Most of White's clients who spoke to Rolling Stone are over the age of 35, a testament to the shift in dating culture that is impacting everyone. 'Since the dating apps came out 20 years ago, the game has changed, we're not playing in the same field anymore,' says Connie Lozada, 47, a client of White's from New Jersey, who recently got engaged. 'I'm a late Gen Xer, who grew up without technology. I was going on skills from the 1990s and not 2024, so to have somebody navigate that for me was helpful.' For Lozada, who opted for the $3,000 'Get Your Guy Club' package — a cohort of women who have unlimited access to White's content and meet with him for a year, as a group, weekly on Zoom — much of his work is therapeutic and rooted in overcoming relationship issues. 'You are taught to dig deep. For some of us, our choices in men were based around trauma,' says Lozada. 'I was dating men like my father and I never set boundaries or a standard for myself. I added [Anwar's] strategies, and learned how to weed out guys, which helped me recognize my fiancé.' Despite critics seeing women like Lozada and Williams who've invested thousands of dollars into a dating coach, as 'pick mes,' the women in the program see a different narrative, one in which they aren't ashamed to admit their desires and traumas forming genuine connections. And they are finding it on their own terms. 'We're socialized to be pick-mes,' says Reagan Jackson, 45, of Seattle, who is in the Get Your Guy Club. 'I don't think that we're taught how to date and we make a lot of mistakes. Dating coaching has changed that for me and has given me back a sense of dignity and autonomy that I wasn't feeling before.' Best of Rolling Stone Every Super Bowl Halftime Show, Ranked From Worst to Best The United States of Weed Gaming Levels Up
Telegraph
02-05-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
The SDP failed to break the mould of British politics. Reform has a better chance
In living memory, the only comparison with the big political effect of Reform UK is the Social Democratic Party (SDP), which was born in 1981 as a breakaway from Labour. In that year, the then-famous Shirley Williams won a smashing by-election for the SDP at Crosby, a mere half an hour's drive from Runcorn, scene of today's Reform triumph. Although the SDP had a sort of afterlife, it died as a political force in 1988, merging with the Liberals. Arguably, it failed even earlier: at the 1983 general election, it severely reduced the Labour vote but did not prevent a Conservative landslide for Margaret Thatcher. Both the main parties survived this onslaught of fanatical moderation. The SDP did not, in its own phrase, 'break the mould'. Reform, though under different names, has had influence for far longer. Even in the 20th century, Nigel Farage began to be the key figure. In 2006, he became Ukip leader for the first time. In 2016, the threat which his party posed to the unity and electoral success of the Conservatives caused David Cameron, without nearly enough time spent in reconnaissance, to rush into – and lose – the momentous referendum on Britain's membership of the European Union. The rise of Boris Johnson, and the electoral success of Boris's 'Get Brexit done ' general election of 2019, eclipsed what had now become the Brexit Party. Until galvanised by Rishi Sunak's sneaky snap election gamble in July 2024, Mr Farage appeared to have resigned himself to becoming a full-time media personality. But then, seizing the moment, as he does so well, he swept back. His party (latest name, Reform UK) won five seats including his, and, more significantly, more than four million votes, making it the third-largest party in Britain. And now this. Reform has seized (just) one of Labour's safest seats and some of the Tories' safest councils. Mr Farage has rightly intuited that, while it took the Conservatives 14 years to get themselves into a thorough mess, landslide Labour managed it in about 14 weeks. Today, the Tories suffered further, expected humiliation; Labour suffered new, perhaps unexpected, humiliation. So the Farage-Reform effect is durable. Why? Here again the comparison with the SDP may help. In its very conception, it was an elite movement. Its 'Gang of Four' that got it going consisted entirely of Labour former Cabinet ministers, three of whom – Roy Jenkins, Mrs Williams and David Owen – were household names. It emerged less from popular discontents than from the quarrels at the top of the Labour Party. It also had tremendous backing from London-based media. We at this newspaper had the greatest fun at its expense but, for grand organisations like the BBC and the Financial Times, the SDP fulfilled their almost erotic fantasy of a 'compassionate' centrist pro-European party that also wouldn't tax important people like them to death. The SDP caused less excitement down the pub (I should explain, for younger readers, that a 'pub' was a local bar where people, mostly men, mostly far from rich, could drink, smoke, laugh and complain. It was the mainstay of almost every community.) When the SDP died, it was not widely mourned, though it did help strengthen the Liberals. Its history was a useful cautionary tale to a young man called Tony Blair. He worked out how to bring quite similar policies to Labour without splitting the party. Reform, by contrast, had no encouragement whatever from the mighty. I remember being ticked off by Douglas Hurd, who was then the foreign secretary, for the simple act of publishing, in the Sunday Telegraph in 1995 or so, a comment piece by the then leader of Ukip. If Ukip appeared on the BBC at all, it was only to be roasted for some obscure council candidate who had been caught making off-colour remarks about a sacred subject, such as immigration or LGBT rights. The Farage vehicle, under its various names, mostly had to make its own way in the world. It therefore has an air of authenticity about it. It is the political equivalent of the self-made man – a bit cocky, perhaps, a bit insensitive sometimes, but a life force, something to be reckoned with. The two main parties do not feel like that at all, even though Kemi Badenoch's rise as the first African to become a British party leader is quite a story. Both sense they have not got anything much right for a long time. The Labour Party lost authority in Iraq and when the economic good times came to an end during the financial crisis of 2008-9. The Conservatives lost it over Covid and the accompanying disarray. Both lost it over Brexit, not so much, perhaps, because they supported Remain (a respectable, though mistaken, cause), as because they managed to lose. Over net zero, both have deployed moralism to override legitimate fears of cost and impracticality, so both are no longer believed. Over immigration, both advocate control but produce chaos. Our prosperity, security and liberty all feel shakier than they did a quarter of a century ago. And since the Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, lashed her economic policy to figures about government borrowing which are largely beyond her power to hit, the whole Starmer government is in a state of frantic inaction. I did not have a vote in Thursday's local elections (my county's choice is postponed by a year because of this funny business with mayors), nor am I a citizen of Runcorn or Helsby. But if I had been able to vote, I can well imagine choosing Reform, not because I would have had any particular belief that the party will get things right, but because I could find no other appropriate gesture to indicate that things are wrong. It might seem to follow from what I have said above that I am arguing that Reform should take over from the Tories or even from Labour (quite a lot of its policies are becoming socialist). Actually, I am not. Our two-party system has some disadvantages, but it has at least two virtues. The first is that it prevents the main parties from being captured by one sect. They must be informal coalitions to win. This is good training for future ministers. The second is that when they win with a good working majority, they have the possibility of bringing about real change. That was true for Attlee in 1945, Mrs Thatcher in 1979 and Blair in 1997. The same ought to be true for Sir Keir Starmer, with Labour's overall majority at the last election – 174, now reduced following Runcorn and other embarrassments, to 156 – still unassailable. But this time, very unusually, the disproportion between votes cast (33.7 per cent for Labour) and seats won is so great as to be unsettling. Labour is the uncomfortable beneficiary of an arithmetical freak: only 20 per cent of those entitled to vote supported it last July. The chances must be that, next time, the seats will be more proportionate to the votes for the main parties. If so, normal rules will apply once more and Reform will find it hard to break through. The Tories will have used their time to rethink and, just possibly, Labour will have done the right things, all else having failed. We still cannot possibly say that Reform is fit to govern. I must admit that I doubt it. But what can now be said is that Reform has shifted the burden of proof: the two main parties always argue for their competence. On what evidence?
Yahoo
02-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
The SDP failed to break the mould of British politics. Reform has a better chance
In living memory, the only comparison with the big political effect of Reform UK is the Social Democratic Party (SDP), which was born in 1981 as a breakaway from Labour. In that year, the then-famous Shirley Williams won a smashing by-election for the SDP at Crosby, a mere half an hour's drive from Runcorn, scene of today's Reform triumph. Although the SDP had a sort of afterlife, it died as a political force in 1988, merging with the Liberals. Arguably, it failed even earlier: at the 1983 general election, it severely reduced the Labour vote but did not prevent a Conservative landslide for Margaret Thatcher. Both the main parties survived this onslaught of fanatical moderation. The SDP did not, in its own phrase, 'break the mould'. Reform, though under different names, has had influence for far longer. Even in the 20th century, Nigel Farage began to be the key figure. In 2006, he became Ukip leader for the first time. In 2016, the threat which his party posed to the unity and electoral success of the Conservatives caused David Cameron, without nearly enough time spent in reconnaissance, to rush into – and lose – the momentous referendum on Britain's membership of the European Union. The rise of Boris Johnson, and the electoral success of Boris's 'Get Brexit done' general election of 2019, eclipsed what had now become the Brexit Party. Until galvanised by Rishi Sunak's sneaky snap election gamble in July 2024, Mr Farage appeared to have resigned himself to becoming a full-time media personality. But then, seizing the moment, as he does so well, he swept back. His party (latest name, Reform UK) won five seats including his, and, more significantly, more than four million votes, making it the third-largest party in Britain. And now this. Reform has seized (just) one of Labour's safest seats and some of the Tories' safest councils. Mr Farage has rightly intuited that, while it took the Conservatives 14 years to get themselves into a thorough mess, landslide Labour managed it in about 14 weeks. Today, the Tories suffered further, expected humiliation; Labour suffered new, perhaps unexpected, humiliation. So the Farage-Reform effect is durable. Why? Here again the comparison with the SDP may help. In its very conception, it was an elite movement. Its 'Gang of Four' that got it going consisted entirely of Labour former Cabinet ministers, three of whom – Roy Jenkins, Mrs Williams and David Owen – were household names. It emerged less from popular discontents than from the quarrels at the top of the Labour Party. It also had tremendous backing from London-based media. We at this newspaper had the greatest fun at its expense but, for grand organisations like the BBC and the Financial Times, the SDP fulfilled their almost erotic fantasy of a 'compassionate' centrist pro-European party that also wouldn't tax important people like them to death. The SDP caused less excitement down the pub (I should explain, for younger readers, that a 'pub' was a local bar where people, mostly men, mostly far from rich, could drink, smoke, laugh and complain. It was the mainstay of almost every community.) When the SDP died, it was not widely mourned, though it did help strengthen the Liberals. Its history was a useful cautionary tale to a young man called Tony Blair. He worked out how to bring quite similar policies to Labour without splitting the party. Reform, by contrast, had no encouragement whatever from the mighty. I remember being ticked off by Douglas Hurd, who was then the foreign secretary, for the simple act of publishing, in the Sunday Telegraph in 1995 or so, a comment piece by the then leader of Ukip. If Ukip appeared on the BBC at all, it was only to be roasted for some obscure council candidate who had been caught making off-colour remarks about a sacred subject, such as immigration or LGBT rights. The Farage vehicle, under its various names, mostly had to make its own way in the world. It therefore has an air of authenticity about it. It is the political equivalent of the self-made man – a bit cocky, perhaps, a bit insensitive sometimes, but a life force, something to be reckoned with. The two main parties do not feel like that at all, even though Kemi Badenoch's rise as the first African to become a British party leader is quite a story. Both sense they have not got anything much right for a long time. The Labour Party lost authority in Iraq and when the economic good times came to an end during the financial crisis of 2008-9. The Conservatives lost it over Covid and the accompanying disarray. Both lost it over Brexit, not so much, perhaps, because they supported Remain (a respectable, though mistaken, cause), as because they managed to lose. Over net zero, both have deployed moralism to override legitimate fears of cost and impracticality, so both are no longer believed. Over immigration, both advocate control but produce chaos. Our prosperity, security and liberty all feel shakier than they did a quarter of a century ago. And since the Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, lashed her economic policy to figures about government borrowing which are largely beyond her power to hit, the whole Starmer government is in a state of frantic inaction. I did not have a vote in Thursday's local elections (my county's choice is postponed by a year because of this funny business with mayors), nor am I a citizen of Runcorn or Helsby. But if I had been able to vote, I can well imagine choosing Reform, not because I would have had any particular belief that the party will get things right, but because I could find no other appropriate gesture to indicate that things are wrong. It might seem to follow from what I have said above that I am arguing that Reform should take over from the Tories or even from Labour (quite a lot of its policies are becoming socialist). Actually, I am not. Our two-party system has some disadvantages, but it has at least two virtues. The first is that it prevents the main parties from being captured by one sect. They must be informal coalitions to win. This is good training for future ministers. The second is that when they win with a good working majority, they have the possibility of bringing about real change. That was true for Attlee in 1945, Mrs Thatcher in 1979 and Blair in 1997. The same ought to be true for Sir Keir Starmer, with Labour's overall majority at the last election – 174, now reduced following Runcorn and other embarrassments, to 156 – still unassailable. But this time, very unusually, the disproportion between votes cast (33.7 per cent for Labour) and seats won is so great as to be unsettling. Labour is the uncomfortable beneficiary of an arithmetical freak: only 20 per cent of those entitled to vote supported it last July. The chances must be that, next time, the seats will be more proportionate to the votes for the main parties. If so, normal rules will apply once more and Reform will find it hard to break through. The Tories will have used their time to rethink and, just possibly, Labour will have done the right things, all else having failed. We still cannot possibly say that Reform is fit to govern. I must admit that I doubt it. But what can now be said is that Reform has shifted the burden of proof: the two main parties always argue for their competence. On what evidence? Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
