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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. 
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