To the Black Women that STILL Love Black Men

***This was requested a while ago, but it seems as if the timing is most appropriate now.***

Recently, it seems that black men have been attacked from every angle possible.  From the media coming at Obama’s throat, from black women, from another Tyler Perry production,  and even cartoons on youtube are having a field day magnifying the shortcomings of black men.  There was once a time that at LEAST, at the very least, black women would support and defend black men at all costs, but it seems most of those have jumped ship…  I say it is their loss because it is clear black men are still a prize…even white, asian, and latinos women recognize this.  And really how can you not see it?
Black men are fine…as hell.  Personally, I don’t see how a woman could ever abandon that godly physique.  Shoulders so wide and broad that they are strong enough to love you, children that aren’t his, your family, and your past.  And after a long day at work, his arms embrace all of you effortlessly and instantly relieving the stresses of your day.  It is with his magical touch that finally your guard can come down and the façades worn to appease corporate America can be taken off because in his presence you have entered a safe place.  And you value this because it is the place where you get to be just you.  Only his full lips can smack your cheeks that force the most genuine smile out of you.
Black men are confident.  As a matter of fact, black men set the bar on confidence.  He is confident about the things he has done and equally confident about the things he has never done.  You see, this confidence rests not on what he does but who he believes he is regardless of others’ opinions. It is that confident stride, whether it is the brother in the mail room or the one in the corner office, that grabs your eyes attention every single time.
Black men are strong.  I know this is a label often reserved for black women- the strong black woman.  However, the strength it takes to be a black man that goes day to day without the respect, praise, or recognition deserved is in a league of its own.  Often they have no voice at work or have to fight harder for gain the respect of his white counterparts, and then come home to black women.  Well, we know how that goes.  Even with his boys, there is only so much as men, as black men, that they can share without appearing weak.  So the load, the burdens, the pressure, the frustration, failures, hurt, and pain they just carry…silently.  Every day.  Yet, somehow they find a way to be the charming, funny, lighthearted yet soulful men in which we depend to always do what is needed of them without exception.
All they ask in return is a little understanding, respect, and allow them to be men without undercutting their efforts and roles.  I know, they are completely unreasonable, right?
So to the black women that look beyond what is fed to them through media outlets, to those women that don’t use black men as a scapegoat for their own issues, to those that love and believe in black men without exception, you too deserve an applause.  We’re fewer in number, so we have to make sure we cheer louder so our men can hear us.

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Girl I Don’t Want Your Man: The Sisterhood Files, Part 1

Black women are often stigmatized with not being able to get along with each other.  In media, black women are often portrayed as aggressive, conniving, and manipulative- typically over a man.   Like most things, the overly perpetuated ideas streamed through media eventually will begin to hold some varying truth.
It didn’t used to always be this way.   Black women used belong to many social groups and circles compromised of only women that confided in one another.  They laughed together and loved one another.  Of course, they also gossiped, but would also give of themselves if the same person was in need.  Black women made a point to stick together because they understood then the power in their numbers.  They knew together they could bring about change in their communities, schools, and churches.  A few dared to even change the world.
But now you meet women who are constantly bragging that they don’t have any female friends.  According to these women, they prefer to hang with men to avoid the headache of friendships with women.  These headaches are usually associated with the aggressive, conniving, and manipulative behavior typically associated around some prized man.  In essence, the scarcity of the black men has diluted black sisterhood.  However, it should be seen as a weakness if a woman cannot maintain a healthy friendship with other women that are experiencing similar challenges and victories as their own.
Sans the fight for the prized man, it is really easy to enjoy the benefits that come with great female friends.  This sisterhood knows how to pick up the slack without words being exchanged- they simply understand.  These black women, instead of telling you, will automatically fix a loose a strap, or pull back stray strands of hair, or pick a piece of lent off your shirt to make sure you are looking your best.  These friendships are with the most resourceful people you’d ever know to ensure you successfully complete any project, to make sure you never overpay for any product or service, and to hold you accountable to your goals, dreams, and standards.  This sisterhood wants all included to not only look their best but be their best because they understand the power in their bond when everyone is one accord.  So this circle of black female friends took a vow to never fight over a man, they have bigger goals- they have a world to change.

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To the Black Men That Love Black Women

I know we live in a supposedly post-racial society.  Yeah… no, I don’t believe that.  I do believe that most relationship issues transcend race and ethnicity.  But there is something to be said about black men that still love black women.
Of course, there is a lot to love.  There are the natural curves that create a flawless silhouette, the wide range of beautiful browns, the full lips & full hips.  Yes, any man can appreciate that from afar.  But it takes a special black man to handle the intricacies that come with loving a black woman.
Black women, to say the least, are opinionated.  Well, all women are opinionated.  However, black women are just a tad more vocal with their opinions.  We speak our opinions just a smidge louder than others.  We often upgrade our opinions to full fledged facts.  We are valiant defenders of our facts, I mean opinions.  We own our opinions/facts until the death; not our death of course, but whoever’s death that doesn’t agree with our opinion (figuratively speaking, of course).
Black women are beautifully animated.  Yes we could just tell you how we feel in a very stoic, docile manner.  We could.  However, we feel like you will get our point a lot better if we point our fingers, roll our necks, and wave our hands in the air.  Black women are natural pantomimists, except we add words.  We can tell any story to our friends and make them feel like they were there when it happened.  It is a gift.  Unless, we are arguing, then maybe it is a curse.  Yes we do curse, I’m assuming more than others, but only for emphasis and sometimes alliteration like an orator.  Black women are orators.
Black women are honest.  Our sharp tongue cuts the fat and goes straight to the point.  There is never a question of where you stand with a black woman- she likes you or she doesn’t.  There is little gray area.  Don’t ask black women any questions if you are not prepared to handle the candid truth.  We are also psychic, often delivering our input prior to you asking.  We are helpful like that knowing you would need it at some point.
Black women love hard.  We love our men, our children, and our various affiliations.  We love so hard as to ensure the intended receiver feels it…even if we are not there.  We give endlessly, selflessly to make sure those we love are taken care of to the best of our ability.  Our love, so strong, creates a bridge between our abilities and our needs.  We take on the needs of the ones we love as our own.  Then we take nothing, add our love, to create more than enough, not for ourselves but for them- our loves.
Black women are loyal.  We cheer the loudest.  We go all out to make sure we properly represent what we are a part of.  This is just to ensure everyone knows what we support because we realize that plays a role in who we are.  We are so loyal we automatically expect loyalty.  It seems like a rational philosophy.  We are loyal to you, so be loyal to us.  Maybe that is our sole flaw.  So we corrected it to maintain our perfection.
Black women hold down black men that love black women down like no other.  To the beautiful black men that understand and accept all of this is our saving grace because he understands that black women will infinitely be part of who he is.

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It has been a minute…
I have made a few moves- some literally, some figuratively, all to get closer to my dreams.   It has been a beautiful journey.
On this journey of life, it is vital to have a person that believes in you.  I’ve always understood that much. It has always been family, friends, church members, teachers- those who you believe it is part of their duty and responsibility to believe, encourage, and aid in your personal aspirations.
As the journey of life continues, if you are doing right, you often get knocked down, disappointed, hurt, deceived, rejected.  If you are willing to try, you often lose before you succeed.  In a search for something, you often end up with nothing…or just regret.   As women, we often allow those disappointments, regrets, and hurts cloud the image in the mirror.   We find ourselves not reaching as far, not dreaming as big, not trying as hard, not expecting as much.
And if we are lucky on this journey, a man will come along, that not only loves us foggy-mirrored women, but wipes our mirrors.  He clears the obstructions so you can remember your limitless potential, your extraordinary dreams, and your lofty ambitions.   It is weird at first, an adjustment to say the least, having a man who seeks to build and not destroy.   But his patience with you adjusts your vision of yourself, helps to facilitate your personal and professionals goals, and aides your spiritual growth.   His love makes you remember what it was like to love before your first heartache.  His love heals.

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Code of Silence

“soooo….you good?” he confidently beckoned still trying to find his breath.
“mmm, wonderful,” she replied.
He grinned, mentally patting himself on the back, as he moved toward kitchen. “Where do you keep your glasses, babe?”
“In the second cabinet from the left…on the top,” she answered.  The sound of fumbling cabinet doors brought her back to reality but still too exhausted to move just yet.  The snap back to reality stirred several questions to mind. Will he stay the night or give an “I got to go” excuse?   They have been dating for several months now and after much convincing, she decided to take the leap….again. She had been talking to her girls about the likelihood that was indeed about to go down- that she was ready.  And they had all but said he would leave immediately afterwards. However, she decided to go with her gut.  And just as she was about to question her decision, he interrupted her thoughts.
“Here you go, fruit punch,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied trying to remain cool.  As he leaned over to kiss her, she demanded her cheeks not to turn red. Or to ask what she really wanted to know.  Would he stay and what this now meant in their relationship. But she knew it was too soon, so she would just have to play it cool.
The stirring in the bathroom initiates the feeling of defeat.  Instinctively, she mentally prepares for his departure soon. To her surprise, he returned to the bedroom wearing nothing more than what he had before.  Her mind was asking a million questions but she said nothing. Simply waited. Silently.
“Hey, I don’t want to seem rude, but,” her heart stopped as he spoke, rage already building up. This is why she wanted to wait, until she knew…knew for sure.  The emotional roller coaster was too much to handle. “…But would you mind if I watch Sports Center to catch the highlights from the game I missed earlier today. Just want to see if my team won, then I promise I will turn it off and come to bed,” he pleaded. She smiled and breathed relief. Then breathed possibility.
An hour after he had returned to bed, she found herself still awake taking in the moment. She had promised herself to just enjoy it and give it time before taking inventory. Her internal debates eventually lured her to sleep.
Violent turns and mumbled screams abruptly interrupted the stillness of the night.
“What’s wrong?” she exclaimed in panic.
He opened his eyes trying to find his bearings. “Oh nothing. I’m fine. Sorry.”
But she knew exactly what it was, he had just had the same dream every black man she had been with before had had. She named it The Black Man’s Nightmare- the one thing they had managed to come together and secure in a code of silence.  She had always wondered what brought on the violent sleep. And while she didn’t know the cause, she had mastered the cure. She reached out to him and pulled him close, kissed his face gently. The light strokes in the direction of his fade comforted him back to sleep holding her tightly.
With time and trust, all of her questions were answered without asking any questions. For him, the nightmares stopped, and well, that told him all he needed to know about her.

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