Skip to main content

Black Love

A little while ago I heard about a series on Oprah’s OWN network titled, Black Love, looking into different couples and love stories in the black community. When I learned of the series, I found myself drawn to what it entailed and after catching a sneak peek, I found myself growing intrigued. While I’m not fully open to going public about my own love life, I’ve found myself becoming fascinated with black love. As a black woman who pretty much embodies all kinds of black girl magic, I’ve had people take some jabs at me about being what they call a white-black girl and constantly being accused of having a type, in regards to guys I talk to or show an interest in dating, this type referring to white guys, which isn’t true. I don’t have a type. And I’m definitely not one of those ignorant people that says things like, “I just like guys from this or that race and would never date a guy of this or that race…” I’m open to all kinds of guys and race isn’t a deal breaker for me, however, the older I get the more I do feel drawn to black love. Any guy can have swag, but there’s a special kind of swag that black men embody, effortlessly, and I find that incredibly attractive. With black love there appears to be an unspoken connection, and, an understanding between a couple that really gets one another. There’s also the obvious similarity of race and cultural backgrounds as well, that I’m not certain I’d be able to get with a guy who isn’t black. And with what’s happening in the world right now, I’d be remiss if I didn’t think about the consequences and backlash of going in the direction of an interracial relationship. I don’t have an issue or problem with interracial relationships, but I have been warned about what could happen if I stepped out. I’ve heard things like…

“You sure you wanna be with him? Even if he’s not racist you know some of his friends and/or family might be…”

“I could’ve told you that wasn’t going to work. He’s white, you’re black…”

“You’ll be reminded that you’re black…”


Not to mention the disapproving stares, hate, and shade, all of which I’ve noticed, but could care less about. But if I went black, I’d likely never have to deal with any of what I’ve mentioned above. To each their own though. 

Popular posts from this blog

The Day I Became A Kidney Donor

About a year ago, I had a dream my dad wanted to talk to our family about something serious. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to discuss, but I knew it was something I needed to prepare myself for. Around the time after I had this dream, I remember stopping by my parents place and sensing something was going on that they weren’t telling me. I tried to dismiss what I’d been feeling, but I couldn’t shake it. Something serious was happening. As I returned to my home after visiting them one day, I was in my kitchen washing dishes when a heaviness hit my heart like nothing I’d ever felt before. Something’s wrong with dad. That’s what that dream was about. God, what’s going on? As I continued washing dishes, I started crying and praying. Then in mid-spring, my dad held an unexpected family meeting that would change all our lives forever. He hesitated at first, and as his voice started cracking and he started crying, he said, “Well, I wanted to talk to ya’ll to tell you that I have kidney disea...

I’m Glad I’m Not Married

When I was about five years old, I was sitting in the backseat of my dad’s car when me, him, my older cousin (my aunt’s son), and my aunt (my dad’s sister) caught my aunt’s fiancé with another woman. My dad had been driving my aunt out to run some errands since she didn’t have a driver’s license or a car. When she spotted her man with another woman, she told my dad to pull the car over, got out of the car, and immediately addressed him. She wanted the keys back to her apartment and was done with him. The other woman she caught her fiancé with slapped him when she realized what was happening, and that was that. When my aunt returned to the car, she was clearly and understandably upset, and the ride back to her place was quiet. Although I was too young to fully grasp what was happening at the time, I knew it wasn’t good. And now, at 34 years old, I can’t imagine how much pain she was in. Her wedding had been planned and paid for – and she never made it down the aisle. My aunt was a beaut...

Dear Young Black Professionals

As you embark on your career, I want you to know some things and stay woke about what you’ll be up against. Please understand that no matter what, you have value, and you matter. Always remember that. As progressive as this world and different workplaces may seem, every workplace has a culture. You’ll be in different places where a lot of people who don’t look like you will be in the room. But know that you belong in those rooms too. Spend some time observing and studying those spaces and learn as much as you can. There will be people you work with who will make presumptions about your competence, education, and ability to fulfill your job duties. There will be more who will think less of you because of the color of your skin and try to disqualify you the moment you make an error, mistake, or ask questions about things you may not understand. This will all feel uncomfortable and you may get insecure, feel like you’re all by yourself, and think you don’t belong there, but ride it out...