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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Black Women are Enablers

I am fully aware of the gross generalizations I make on behalf of black people.  It is done intentionally because it takes too much time to dissect the exceptions.  And everybody wants to be an exception but the majority of us fall in the generalizations hence the dire state of our communities and families.  As a result, I have decided to start a new column entitled “All BLACK Everything.”  Yes, I know I stole the title but it fits the contents.  Without any further ado, let’s get into it…

I would love to meet the first black woman who had a black man and after he cheated took him back.  I would love the meet the pioneer of enabling black men.  I’m sure he said he only loved her, and it was only one time, and he would never do it again.  I would bet he did it again.  In my mind, I imagine him telling his boys and his boys being like “word, son she didn’t kill you?” and he replying “not even, we had make-up sex that night and everything. Crazy, right?”  I imagine her heartbroken and confiding in her girls but only pointing out the good he does as she justifies the reasons to why she kept him.  Maybe she convinced these women it was the right thing to do too.  And when his boys cheated on her girls, these women too forgave those men and from there the sickness of enabling begin to spread.
Cheating is so commonplace nowadays it is almost expected.  Women expect to be cheated on and men expect to be forgiven time and time again. The lying- well, we almost encourage it.  Tell us anything but the truth.  At least that applies to half of black women, the other half prefer the truth.  So all a black man has to determine which woman you are- the one that needs to be lied to or the one that wants to hear the truth about his frequent indiscretions.  So why wouldn’t a man take advantage of this?  He can have both the woman he loves in addition to any others that may catch his eye along the way?  Hell, I would sign up for that myself.  After so much forgiving and loving, for the man it doesn’t even feel wrong after a while, the guilt fades eventually, and wrong becomes the standard.  Anything slightly above wrong is praised by his woman.  “Girl, as long as he knows I am his number one.  He comes home to me.”   Well, isn’t that what he is supposed to do??  And being one out of many is nothing to boast about in terms of a supposedly committed relationship.
What if black women had a standard of having to be the only? What if black men had to emotionally and physically commit to keep their woman?  I expect women would gain power and find strength in realizing their value.  I suppose black men would step up to the challenge because at the end of the day they want to be loved too.  And honestly, it only takes one self-respecting woman that knows her worth to replace the twenty that didn’t.
I can’t help but wonder if the pioneer of enabling had simply cut her losses and kept it moving and left her man alone to wallow in his regret and comprehend the severity of his actions.  I wonder if he would have take the lessons he learned in that failed relationship into his next promising himself to not ever make that mistake again because cheating actually cost him much more than it was worth…

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If I See Him with a White Woman

I have purposely skirted around this subject only making inferences in The White Man I Would Date and a little more direct in To the Black Men that Love Black Women.  However, it has been requested several times that I tackle it head on, so here we go…
I am not against interracial dating.  I am not against black men being with white women specifically either.  Like I have said before, I love people- all races and ethnicities.  I have been extremely blessed and enlightened by countless people outside of the black Diaspora.  My world is definitely all the better because of my interactions and friendships with these different groups of people.
There is definitely a market for black men that maybe should date white women.  They have grown up in predominantly white neighborhoods, went to predominantly white schools, subsequently their social circle is mostly comprised of white people.  In this case, I would see it only as a natural progression to date white women.  It just makes sense.  In all honesty, his persona may not translate well with most black women anyway unless they grew up in a similar environment.  I wouldn’t be mad, do what you do.
There are also some black men that have grown up in majority black environments, but for one reason or another they have had no success with black women.  They have consistently tried to date black women, but for whatever reason have been vehemently rejected by black women.  I would much rather this man date outside of his race and be happy than continue to become rejected by black women and grow chronically bitter.
However, if you went to Howard a Historically Black College or University, and you date/marry a white woman, my heart will break.  It stings like alcohol on an open wound.   It hurts like the last blow before the count begins and the fight is over.  These men have are fully aware of the dire state of the black community, the lack of a stable black family units, and the scarcity of educated black men, and made a conscious decision to be with a woman outside of his race.  This action says that in a pool of similar educational background, socioeconomic status, values, beliefs, and mores yet beautifully diverse black women not one was good enough for you.  That level of rejection is devastating.
It has been said, in some 75 years we will all be one race.  All cultures and ethnicities would have been blended to create a truly post-racial society.  But what is wrong with race and ethnicity as long as it is not used as a means to oppress?  The problem has not been race for all races bring a unique beauty to this world in which we live and love.  The problem is that race is still used a social construct to systematically inhibit and destroy people.  The black Diaspora is full of a rich and wonderful history and that story needs to be told.  Our communities need to be restructured and revived and black families are the key to social and economic justice.  We are dying and being killed off an alarming rate and can’t afford to wait 75 years to see what may happen.
For these strong black family units to prosper, see the Huxatables, then we as black people, men and women alike, need to stop doing things for show, status, or experimentation… like dating white women.  While all black men that have received a formal education are esteemed, black men that have been formally educated at an HBCU are rare, precious, gems that black women want to hold dear and close to their heart.  They are supposed to understand and sympathize with our plight.   They are supposed to be part of our solution.  So when you asked,” What would you do if I brought a white girlfriend to Howard’s our homecoming?”   This is why I went off and got loud and said “I wish you would.”  It was because we value you, I value you, for the great black man… no, the gem, you are and want to keep you for ourselves.  We, black women, have raised you, sacrificed for you, supported you and now that you have your respective degrees and great jobs we are just looking for a return on our investment because so many others were lost along the way.  But I want you to really understand this, honestly, if we didn’t love you we wouldn’t care.

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I Swear I Love Them All

I don’t know what I want in a man.  I mean, I have a general idea of the characteristics and traits but no specific prototype of what I am looking for in a man.  Academically, you go through years and years of schooling just to acquire the basic skills to function in life and on primary jobs.  Then you go through additional schooling to give you field-specific training and knowledge, but still it is typically on a basic level.  More schooling usually helps one hone in a specific field of practice.  As such, I know exactly what I want to do career wise thanks to years of schooling and life experiences.
Contrarily, years and years in the school has dating has only left me more confused.  Continued education has only provided more beautiful and wonderful options so now it is too hard to choose.  You see in high school, I knew exactly who I wanted to marry.  He was a gentleman, smart, and funny. But then I got to college, and I met smarter, funnier, finer, and even more gentlemanly.  So I begin to date these guys to have fun learn exactly what I want in a man.  Then I get into the working world and meet all of these men that are brilliantly applying their education and making headway on their respective goals.  This would seem like a good problem to have, but the growth and diverseness of my networks have only left me bewildered and aimlessly dating.
I would like to think that once I found him, or rather he found me, that I would know for sure.  I would expect that the endless unknown possibilities wouldn’t matter anymore.  I would be happy if a sign of eternally contentment would appear.  And I would hope that all of years of dating would provide insight on this specific man and how to not only make it work but to make it flourish.

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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I Was a Killer

Women have killed many men.  The men that stood proud, the men that simply stood, and the men that didn’t know how to stand yet have all been victims to a woman’s words.  These words can kill spirits, dreams, and ambitions in one argument.  One might argue this is a defense mechanism making up in words what women lack in statue and strength.  I would argue it is a feeble attempt to revenge a bruised heart and battered hopes.
I don’t know when I became a killer.  I don’t know if my need to make him feel like the lowest of lows were warranted by his initial actions.  They were probably not.  I think the first time I killed with words I felt bad…I think.  However, the power to hurt, like I was hurting, outweighed my residual remorse.   It was not until then, when I cut below the belt, that I finally evoked a real sense of hurt out of a man that resembled the hurt I had.  I smirked.  It felt good.  And for a while, things were better.  He seemed to understand whatever point I was trying to make.  But that was always short-lived and so I would dig in my bag and pull out my words so I could kill again.
With time, I became a master at this craft of killing, a sniper if you will.  I took what I had learned from one relationship to the next, more hurt to the next, more vicious to the next.  In each relationship it got easier…funnier.  Like clockwork, after the honeymoon period was over, I would attack.  Then one day, I had nothing but time to do a body count and evaluate all of the damage I had done.  I thought about everything I deliberately said to destroy.  It was that day I decided to become a builder.  I was no longer interested in making men that I supposedly love feel emasculated.  That thrill was gone.
I knew my words still had power, but now they were used to uplift and empower.  “You ain’t shit” was replaced with “Baby keep trying because I know you can do it.”  I saw my relationships change and, for once, grow.  It was a pleasant change from the crash and burn method previously used.  However, I never imagined my words had the power to heal my once broken relationships.  And with the new relationships and the mended relationships, my words eventually healed me.

Need Water?

Welcome to another edition of Light Fridays

It is Memorial Day Weekend which unofficially marks the beginning of summer.  Pool parties, barbeques, and all-white rooftop soirees are all in full swing.  Everyone is going out a little more, staying out a little later, dressing a little less, and dancing a little harder.  Dudes are also a little more thirsty.

this man will have you being thirsty while he is stealing your girl.

Some men are thirsty year-round, every day, super committed to the chase and to being thirsty.  Those are easy to spot and avoid.  However, it is the men that were cool and confident all winter that with the summer activities turn them into begging puppies.  There is nothing more of a turn-off than 8 consecutive calls or texts from a man desperate to see you. I personally blame the heat- there is no other logical explanation.
So today’s post is for the men. I don’t want you to be that pressed dude that has his pressed texts read out loud to a room full of friends and then laughed at for the rest of the night.  You don’t want to be that guy. So here is a how-to guide to avoid humiliation and to hopefully achieve the desired result- the girl.
1)      Plan Ahead. Please don’t wait until the liquor has taken full control of your fingers before you try and scrounge up next the move after the club.  Hit up your jump-off friend early in the day to see if she has plans for later.  If she is not interested at 2p.m (as opposed to 2a.m) you can keep it moving and hit up the next person on your jump-off friend list.  If you wait until 2am and that friend is not available your options are now limited.  Plus the liquor has taken control and your brain is no longer processing the word “no.”  And so after the 3rd rejection, your fragile man pride will not allow you to give up and call it a night so you continue to call and/or text until 4:57am in the morning.  Meanwhile, the friend you were trying to reach is reading the messages to the dude she did spend her time with that night.  You see how this makes you a loser?
2)      Assume the Yes. Confidence works wonders.  Some men are born with it while others pick it up along the way.  There are the dudes that hit girls up with the “what you up to tonight?” and fumble their way around to indirectly ask if the girl is willing to going out with them. These are the losers, maybe not in life but definitely in regards to dating. Then there are the dudes that hit you up with “I will be there at 8pm. Dress up.”  The latter guy will have the girl rearranging any plans previously made, getting off work early to get her hair done so that she is ready by 7:55pm.  This guy is a winner.  He is used to winning.  He is confident that the girl will say yes, and she does.
3)       Save Face for Another Day. She might be interested but just not available. If she doesn’t volunteer why that will not work don’t ask too many questions.  Just say okay and ask her to hit up when she is available. If she is interested, she will. Either way, you are not labeled “Do Not Answer” in her phone, “Loser” in her mind, and able to try again another day with your pride intact.

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Crush on You

It is Friday, so I will keep it light today.

It was all so simple then

Back in day there were sock hops, field days, pixy stix, and crushes.  That’s right, crushes.  Back then you told one friend, that friend told 3 people, those told 7 people and eventually the word would make it back to the person of interest… and your local morning newspaper.  Usually by this time, you were no longer really interested.  The real excitement was the suspense of whether the crush knew or who will tell first.  That was the fun part because after the crush knew the thrill dissolved.
But we are all grown up now, right?  Meh, not so much. It was recently tweeted “Adult crushes are healthy.”  I could not agree more.  We live in a society that no longer values the “crushing” stage-the time it takes to see if you even want to get to know the person better before you enter the sexual realm.  So I say, go ahead, have a crush.  Have two or three.  Then go get you a snow cone, put on some Hi-Five, and do the wop!!

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