Kick My Butt & Steal My Heart

I hope you’ll indulge me a little. I’m new to the Chicks, and it’s been twenty years.

When I first saw HIM, he was doing that macho pose–legs spread shoulder width apart, arms crossed his broad chest and a serious “Don’t ‘F’ with me” expression on his face. His chest snagged my attention–I’d always been a sucker for muscular pecs. But the expression on his face was all the warning I needed. I kept my eyes to myself.

The second time I saw HIM, his biceps bulged from the edge of a police uniform shirt, and I couldn’t help but stare as HE walked across a stage in front of me. I never dreamed I’d get to touch those sculpted arms. Well, okay maybe there was a little fantasizing going on but HE was my instructor at the police academy, so the only contact between us, was him kicking my unskilled a** on the mat.  Trust me, there is nothing sexy about stinky old workout rooms, sweaty mats, and ending up sprawled out on your back in front of a bunch of guys. It didn’t help matters that I weighed 95 pounds soaking wet.

Stylized portrait of muscular man flexing bicep

Sidenote: I kinda cheated to get in the academy, duct tape and rolls of pennies lined around my waist and ankles tipped the weight scales over the required 110 pounds. It cost me the skin around my waist, but hey, I wasn’t complaining. It bought my ticket to butt-kicking 101 by the cop with the seriously wonderful bod–what’s not to love about that?

It turned out, there was a lot to hate.  The butt kicking and verbal abuse was constant, but it wasn’t from HIM. It was from his boss, a man openly opposed to women in uniform. Besides being the smallest person, I had the misfortune of having the handicap of being left-handed. No kidding, a skinny left-handed female. The horrors–run for your lives!

There were only four women in my class of almost 50 recruits, and only one female instructor who left the academy for promotion a couple months into our six months of training.  I’d always been comfortable around men, I played sports, hung around frat guys in college, and worked security for years. So yeah, I’d been involved in fights, exposed to weapons and experienced injuries. But my style of fighting, was street brawling, nothing more.

This was different. Every hour of every day the women had to prove that we belonged there, and despite the fact that I’d been involved in countless physical confrontations from chasing down shoplifters, boosters, and perverts at the mall, ( no Paul Blart jokes, please) I was at the top of that questionable list. Remember–small left-handed little girl?


But not HIS list. The biggest, baddest, most macho cop there…was the one guy who believed in my ability. HE was the one to help me learn the tactics ‘left-handed’ when his boss told everyone I was too stupid to learn it. (The insults were shared equally throughout the class, but the truth lay closer to home–despite the fact that he developed the tactics, his boss didn’t know how to teach the complicated moves left handed. They were designed for the perfect right-handed male.)

HE did.  HE also helped me find out which defensive tactics worked best for me. Because not all moves work for all people–HE told me to forget what I saw in the movies, if I punched a three hundred pound guy, I’d break my hand, not the guy’s jaw. I grew to respect the man who didn’t judge my ability because of my sex, size, or left-handed handicap. HIS opinion meant a lot to me–professionally. Yes, the fantasies became more frequent, but HE had become so much more to me. Almost god-like. (picture the glowing radiance of Zeus)

Right before graduation, we had what we called ‘Situationals.’ They’re mock calls with cops as actors, instructors grading the recruit’s performance and scenarios designed for failure. Pass them and you graduate, fail and you’re out. No pressure, right?

On HIS call, it turned into a fight call with me fighting to retain my gun.  My partner stood and watched, my gun discharged(a blank) in my holster. The call was stopped and HE proceeded to chew our butts out more than I had ever seen him do before–furious, yelling with a little spit escaping while HE dressed us down.  I’d made a huge mistake, luckily my tactics had helped me retain my weapon–except in real life I would have shot in the thigh, my foot if I was lucky. My partner on the other hand, failed to join in during a mock ‘life and death’ situation. He allowed me to get seriously injured and didn’t lift a finger.

I was furious. Mad at myself, and mad at HIM for yelling at me. Not mad at my partner, he was wearing the same shoes I had on, but I literally hated the MAN. After that, I kicked some serious butt throughout our testing days–I had some ground to make-up with fights, shoot outs, foot chases, and even the boring routine calls where I thought something was going to happen–but it didn’t.  I finished fourth over-all in my class.

But my hero-worship was gone.  The Street Narcotics Tac guy who’d spent countless hours helping me, fell from his pedestal–flat on his face. He was, after all, just another macho guy who yelled at me. (Yeah, my damaged pride played a huge part in that fall.)

On the day of graduation, he addressed the whole class. He told the guys they’d have to prove themselves out there–that their fellow cops would question their ability to perform until they had a fight under their belt. It wasn’t a conscious act of acceptance, it just happened because the officer’s survival depended on it. (Remember no help while fighting for my gun? In real life if my partner didn’t help, we’d both be dead.)

Two weeks after graduation, I ran into HIM at the gym and we went out for a healthy lunch– Burger King. ;). That was my choice, not his cause I knew he’d pick tofu or grass or something equally disgusting to eat. Over the next few years I learned a lot about his softer side–he wrote poetry (ssshhhh-it’s a secret and he’ll probably kill me for divulging it), he loved Jazz music, and he would help ANYONE who needed a helping hand–every weekend filled with volunteering. His hard exterior, had a very mushy center.

A few years later we were married.

Chuck & Kym

And twenty years later this week, he still has my back. His broad chest and wonderful arms are still there and I absolutely love when he wraps them around me with encouragement–just not on a stinky, sweaty mat.  Okay, maybe sometimes we still engage in wrestling matches and I actually do win every now and then, but I have to remind him it’s his fault when he loses because he taught me to fight dirty. 😉 His heart, strength and courage are still a force to be reckoned with.

He’s also the biggest pain in my a** to ever walk this earth.  Alpha men get injured-ALOT.  They push physical boundaries, take on tasks they shouldn’t, give instructions non-stop, pump iron constantly, and don’t believe in stopping. Ever.

Push. Take. Give. Pump. Don’t stop…Wait…I LOVE that;)

So when you meet an alpha male, kick him off his pedestal and look for his softer side. Because that’s what makes him desirable, and worth keeping around for the long haul. Happy Anniversary Chuckles.

Where did you meet the man that stole your heart? And what special plans do you have for him on Valentine’s Day?



  1. Josie Matthews says:

    Oh Kym!!! What a great love story! Such machismo you have to make it through a police academy…my hero!
    My love story with my alpha male is bitter-sweet with a whipped cream ending…
    We met…at the gym 25 years ago, for just a brief “Excuse me…” over the ab machine. He persued me even though I was at the end of a bad relationship…a crazy abusive one that ended with the man showing up at my house with a gun when I broke it off.
    My hubby (just a friend then) immediately came over, forced me to pack all my belonging and dragged me out of there, back to my parents house and safety. He’s been my protector ever since. Nothing this crazy chick dishes out could make his love for me falter. He is alpha-confident all the way! (maybe if I lose weight he will someday lift me and f&$% me against the wall!!!) Shit! did I just say that out loud?
    (pssst….shhhh…don’t tell him, but I think I could kick his ass if I wanted to!)
    So glad you are here at ChickSwagger with us! What a great addition to our fold!!!!
    Love, J

  2. Kym,
    What a great post! Congratulations on your twenty year anniversary. I met my hubby my first day at college when I was eighteen and he was nineteen. So, I’ve been with him a long time. We’ll be celebrating out 30th this year. What will we do on Valentine’s day? Well, I think the two things you and Josie suggested sound like a fun start. Glad you’ve joined the Chicks! Oh, and by the way, I’m a lefty as well. Hugs, Renee

    • Wow, to be so young and recognize a man (or woman) worth keeping–you guys had tremendous emotional maturity–I can’t say I knew how to pick the right guy at that age. I think we’ll all be having some fun on Valentines Day!

    • That’s awesome that you married your college sweetheart, Renee! I married at nineteen and failed miserably at it. I didn’t have the wisdom at that age to make a marriage work.

  3. Welcome, Kym! It’s so great to have you joining us Chicks *sprays everyone with champagne* And happy anniversary! *more champagne!*

    Wow! What a romance! Do I detect a novel in the making? 😉

    Mr. S. and I will be celebrating our 10th soon. We met when his dog broke my dog’s ball at the park. Next day he brought a new one & asked me out. Crazy how fast the years go by because I still feel the same sparks whenever he holds my hand 🙂 He’s still my best friend and a very devoted, um, “research assistant”. LOL

  4. I have been *DYING* to get out here allll morning! (stupid dentist!)

    Happy Anniversary, Kym & Mr. Hotness Roberts!!!!

    Kym, I’m seriously so thrilled you’ve joined the Chicks. From day one I connected with your no-nonsense, fuck-the-drama way of approaching life. I knew you were a hard driver, but I had no idea the lengths you’d go to get what you want (did you really duct tape pennies to yourself?! LMAO!). You are an inspiration, like all the chicks are to me in different ways.

    Okay, so before I get too sappy, Mr. Wilderness & I aren’t exactly sure where we met for the first time. It seemed like our lives intersected at various points: the gym, I worked with a man who used to work with him, college, etc..The problem was, I was always off limits to him because I was dating someone else. About a year later, I broke it off with my boyfriend and my BFF got sick of me being single (LOL) so she asked, “who is the first guy who pops into your head that you’d like to date.” When I told her –David— she hatched a plan.

    I was planning a bachelorette party for a girl and I needed to get the phone number of someone to invite. This someone just happened to be David’s roommate’s girlfriend. So what did I do? Put on my little black mini-skirt and white ruffly top, then did my makeup like POW, and my hair like BLAM, and drove to David’s office to get Holly’s phone number…and to let him know – somehow – that I was single.

    OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I pulled into the parking lot and sat in my car thinking this was the stupidest thing I had EVER done. It took me like 10 minutes to get the balls to go inside.

    The look on his face when he saw me there was just….mmmmmhmmmm. My heart was pounding. He said, “Hey, how are you?” I said, “I’m better, thanks” (so of COURSE he was obligated to ask me why I was “better”).

    And I told him I’d broken up with my boyfriend. Have you ever seen a guy’s eyes do that little flare thing? Dude, it’s for real.

    Anyway, he told me he’d have to get back to me with Holly’s number because she was staying out of the town for an internship….and yeah…the rest is history. He later told me that he could have just called his roommate to get her number, but he wanted an excuse to call me back. *swoon*

    OMG, did I just write a blog post?! Sorry!!

    Anyway, that’s the ONLY time I have ever gone outside of my box for a guy. And after that, he’s pretty much been an alpha wilderness man. 🙂

    • Kym Roberts says:

      I knew the minute you said hello when I called you that first day that you had balls! Thank you for bringing me to Chick Swagger-what an awesome group of women;)

      I love that you asked him out first, when it comes to what you want you show no hesitation–love that!

      Duct tape hurts-but it works well;). And you’re right he was mad because of his street experience. He also told the class that women had to prove themselves every day. It wasn’t right, and they knew what their fellow classmates could do-they needed to change that. He’s a pro-women kinda guy;)

    • I love that you went after him first, Misty! Way to go!

    • Josie Matthews says:

      Oh I love this story! It’s perfect for a scene in a book!!!

  5. By the way, I have a strong suspicion that Mr. Hot Robocop yelled at you because his alpha protective side came out. When strong men feel helpless it’s sometimes expressed as anger. When he saw you (would have gotten) hurt in a (real life) pseudo situation, it tripped his protective side.

  6. KYM!!
    Happy 20th anniversary to you and Chuckles! As I was reading, three thoughts came to mind: 1) “I really want to hate this gorgeous, skinny, petite beeotch, but she’d probably be one of my friends because she sounds like a kickass chick, 2) “I hate double-standard “requirements” that were created simply to keep people out of certain jobs and not because they are indicative of the work to be done,” and 3) “Please get to the part where you knock Chuckles down and climb him like a spider monkey!”

    THIS is what I look for in the books I read. A confident woman who overcomes whatever “obstacles” are placed in her way under her own merits. a complex man who sees her potential and pushes her to be her best, and of course bow chicka bow wow. Because, who doesn’t need a little more pickle tickle in her life. The fact that it’s a real-life love story is icing on the cake of life! 😉

    Have a wonderful day, y’all! I wish you both blessings for many more wonderful years together!

  7. First: Happy Anniversary!!!
    Second: Welcome to Chick Swagger
    Third: Loved…swoon-loved your post.
    I met my Cal on match dot com. He liked my poetry. I mean, who puts poetry in their “date me” profile? I guess the man thought if I was goofy enough to do that, he’d have to find out what who behind it all. The man spoils me and I let him. Hey, who am I to take away his pleasure?
    Now, lean closer, darlin’…a little more…closer…change some particulars–names, location, some of the action–and write this romance. OMG, it’s got best seller written all over it!!!

  8. Great Story! Thanks for sharing!!

  9. Oh, Kym, I love your post!!!
    Such a stellar man you have there! Congrats on the big 2-0! 🙂

    Here’s my story:
    I had this guy friend who I was close with. Best friends, really. We danced around each other for years, both of us contemplating if we should take our relationship further. Everyone assumed we were dating, anyway, which was understandably since he’d spent many nights at my house, sleeping in my bed. Nothing ever happened, though. Sure, there was an attraction, but the thought of ruining our friendship kept us each on our respective sides of the bed. We eventually went separate ways and lost track of each other.

    Years later, I ran into him in a bar, where he finally confessed his true feelings (although his rude-ass friend kept interrupting us). But I had just gotten out of a marriage and wasn’t keen on the idea of starting a new relationship with anyone…including him. So we parted ways once again.

    Fast forward to current day: This August I will be celebrating twelve years of marriage to the “very rude friend,” who says even though his buddy was talking to this cute chick first, he just couldn’t wait his turn. 😉

  10. Hi Allison! If your story doesn’t show that you guys were destined to be together, I don’t know what does. I’m so happy fate was stubborn and didn’t give up on guys. And I think I’m seeing every trope imaginable–who knew?

  11. LOVED this!!! What a great story.

  12. Kym!! Had to read this one even if it was an older post! Too fun.

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