The Black & White Of It Leaves Me Feeling Beige

While sleep was busy evading me on my much needed personal Sabbath, I decided to see what the goings on were over at Clutch Magazine. I ran across this article touching on this new phenomenon where media outlets are comparing black women & white women for their potential relationship success. The article also links to other articles on the same topic. This topic for me=sickness. As in...it makes me sick.

If you haven't figured it out by now, lemme 'splain something about ME. The way I was raised would surely have secured a deluxe rope from a Southern tree. I'm the type of chick who wouldn't have fully understood stepping down into the street to allow a white woman to pass. I wouldn't have made a very good Mammy. I would have struggled as a washer woman. Keep in mind, there are no guarantees that my parents would have prepared me for life in the same manner, but assuming they would have, things would have been rather sketchy for us all. Our life expectancy as a family might woulda been jeopardized. #Imjessayin. So, this concept of comparing myself to a white woman just escapes me.

Is this what I'm supposed to be afraid of?


First, I don't attribute any relationship difficulty to being a black woman. Perhaps I'm naive in this way, but I've always been a black woman involved with black men & haven't had to consider whether my race or ethnicity played ANY part in the success or lack thereof for any of my relationships. When it was all said & done, it was about youthful naivete, incompatibility, irreconcilable differences, cheating, disinterest, & other such relationship destroyers. I've never had a black man tell me he was going to walk away from me--& all black women--to go & date white women. Of the black men I know, if they've ever done anything with a white woman, it was strictly sex. We've all heard the myths about the sexual prowess of white women & what they're allegedly more willing to do than black women. Since I've not lived as a white woman, I can't speak to the truth of any of this. As a black woman though, I will say that I don't have any friends that are too shy to uhmmm....polish a knob....for enjoyment or the sake of relationship civility. In my whole life I've only met ONE black man whose had a girlfriend turned wife who didn't get down with the get down.

Somehow I think I've strayed...

The articles linked in the article linked above make me itch. I'm sick to death of hearing about how hard it is to live while black. & female. We're all, apparently, destined to die with a basket full of dried up eggs if we don't collectively lower our standards & aspire to being more....white. Well, I'm human & I have hang ups. I'm sorry, it's just my truth. I don't tend to lean toward men with breasts. Summa y'all might can overlook that but I can't. I don't tend to lean toward teeth-optional brothas. I also assume that by mentioning brothas that you could easily gather that I haven't dated outside my race. I was in love with the little boriqueno when I was in the 10th grade. I ain't never been mad at Orlando Bloom with his scarily pretty ass in the movies. If Benjamin Bratt invited me to dinner, I certainly would NOT tell him "no." Generally speaking though, I'm attracted to black men & find I have the most in common with them & my parents would disown me. The point is, I like what I like & I don't like what I don't. I'm not willing to suddenly start dating pygmy Vietnamese men in order to broaden my dating options. I'm not so hard up for a man that I have to adjust my standards. None of them are as ridiculous as outlining how tall he must be, just how short he may NOT be. I ain't worried about white vs blue collar or nunnadat. I don't think my standards dry up my market.

My girlfriends are finding themselves having to go some unconventional, though far more common now, routes for finding potential partners. Every woman handles her situation differently. As I've said before, I'm at peace with my situation. I don't just want a relationship, I want to be in a worthwhile relationship. That doesn't mean it has to end in til death do us part, but it does mean I have to be able to be around you & not wish we could part by death. I'm an adventurous eater but I don't play with my heart. These articles would suggest that I begin to approach dating, which doesn't move me conceptually, as a white woman. Since no one has done a really good job of explaining what that means, I can only assume it has something to do with oral sex...since that always comes up when white women are mentioned. Oh, & being docile. I don't fully understand this either because I've seen more than my fair share of embarrassingly rowdy white chicks out in public. I can't imagine ANY man wanting to be bothered with that any more than I could assume there's a line of men waiting to get with your standard hood rat chick with the shiny weave & the over-the-top communication style. In the end though, there's someone for everyone. We've all seen that strange couple with the woman who looks like she should be covered by burlap with an incredible specimen of masculinity. & when that happens & the woman is white I don't bother breathing heavy about it because I assume he wasn't checkin' for me anyway. *shrugs*

Why is this topic so hard to stick to in a concise manner for me?

Oh yeah...I don't believe in this concept. I reject the notion that I'm #losing in the relationship game to white women. I've already stated that I'm not playing any relationship games so I already have nothing to lose. But I'm certainly not out here feeling like the rest of my options are being snatched up, unless I decide that I can only date NBA players & Seal. If for some reason a man is not interested in me because my hair is too short, not straight enough, I got too much rump, not enough breasts, cook with seasoning (pot shot...pun intended), or any other nonsense, he needs to press anyway. I have enough to worry about before I even pretend to give a dayumb about any of that.

As I type this, a couple is fighting in my alley. She's loud & cussin' him up & down, as my mother would say. She's not only a woman who drinks & cusses but a woman who drinks & cusses with a man to cuss at. See, there IS love for everyone. I trust that I'll find mine despite the seemingly higher rate of white women making it to the altar than us Brownins. What no one's pointed out, though, is that if white women are making it to the altar in greater numbers, they must also be holding down these high divorce rates too. So...what am I supposed to be aspiring for again?

Watch me move.