Not too long ago, I read a post from a man that outlined the reasons why he would only date women of any other race except black women. As you may have guessed, this person happened to be a black man. This wasn’t particularly anyone I knew, rather it was a post that had been circulating online and had received considerable backlash from readers, specifically from women of color.
Once again, the year is coming to an end and you find yourself single once more. You're in the same spot where you found yourself in the beginning of the year. Somewhere in between you met someone. There was hope. There was something brewing. You thought that perhaps, he could be the one you brought home to your mother.
I recall a period of time before reaching my early twenties when my friends and I made a conscious decision to not try to get into a “serious” relationship. My best friend vowed that she only wanted casual flings, and nothing but casual flings. It was the age of “talking” which to be honest, I’ve always had mixed feelings about. More so confused, since the phrase seemingly had too many meanings.
I’m a writer, and love every part of it. Most people who know me, are aware that in my spare time I grab a cup of coffee and sit down to write for hours. It’s more than just a passion, it’s a form of therapy. Anytime someone asks me how I started writing, I always respond by saying it was two years ago when I started publishing for a travel blog.
Things were hazy in the beginning. I never thought much of what could possibly happen out of our casual dating, but time created a rollercoaster of emotions and circumstances. I had just gotten out of a relationship that I was unsure about, and truthfully I was ready for something different.
We see you open the door as we walk through it. We see you wait outside in the car until we are safe inside. We see the concern in your eyes when we seem the least bit unlike ourselves. We see you when you smile politely to other girls but squeeze our hand to reassure us that you are happy with your choice. We see you asking us on dates and not just to hang out. We see you not pressuring us to be in a relationship we may not be ready for. We see you.
I only ask because there is a Breakfast Club interview where self-proclaimed black feminists Amber Phillips and Jamilah Lemieux were of course speaking on race, gender and how they intersect for black women and Ms. Phillips struck more than a few nerves during the interview.
Just this time last year I was in an unhealthy relationship with a woman I planned to be with for the rest of my life. So how did I end up here? The answer is simple. Faith. But before I talk about where I am now, I want to give you all a little knowledge about my past life.
On March 27th 2015, Ms. Dolores lost her husband. We weren’t present at church to hear the news. I woke up that Sunday morning to a text from a youth group friend informing me of the recent death. “I’m sorry about Ms. Dolores husband,” it read. Truth is, I was confused and didn’t realize who Ms. Dolores was. At the moment, I didn’t realize that Ms. Dolores was the woman who sat a few seats down from us at church. I didn’t realize that she was the woman who gave hugs and talked to my family every Sunday. It was simply a misunderstanding. I knew the face, but I didn’t know the name.
One of my good friends showed this quote to me a couple of days ago, and since I can’t stop thinking about it. Why is it, that successful and minded women intimidate certain men? As if a woman’s duty in terms of success is to be inferior to men.