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This morning is 9/11/08…7 yr anniversary of some effed up destruction that changed the face of America. I’m thinking about an amazing man, that I believe may be a consistent anchor in my future. I am different. I know it, my kids know it, my friends know it, my fam ESPECIALLY knows it. So if anyone is to meet someone that is against the grain in my family-it would be me. I have entered into an interracial relationship with a brilliantly sensitive white man. As a bonus, he’s also the father of a black daughter.
I’m not the first in my family to date interracially. Actually, the youngest female grandchild was the first to have had a long term interracial relationship, which ended last year. All of the male grandchildren dated at least short term outside of our race.
The unique dynamic is that I met him online. We live approximately 1,000 miles away (I’m guessing) and it’s ok. It’s not alright…but it’s ok. We strive to communicate, and understand, and be there for each other. We have made a commitment to be exclusive. I believe him. He believes me. I used to say, “I can’t miss what I’ve never had.” Logically, that makes sense. But since when is emotions, logical? lol I’ve never entered an interracial relationship before him. He has. When I thought I may be interested in being part of an interracial relationship- I had to deal with stereotypes I had of white men, such as:
- Using me for sex.
- Being ashamed of me in front of friends.
- Regretting the decision to be with me.
- Please his family (if they’re bigots) and not me.
- Living a double life, ie finding out he’s a serial killer, rapist, the UNIBOMBER! smh
Just as white people, concerning Black America, I only had the news to use as a point of reference. I’m glad that I decided to forego ignorance and pursue my slice of happiness. Is there a difference between Paul (who’s white) and the other men I’ve dated prior to him? There’s a huge difference…but I don’t believe it’s because of race. I think I have matured in my selection. I am more relaxed with Paul living in another state, than when I was in relationships intrastate. There is NO DRAMA. There is a state of contentment that I’ve never experienced with a man that I now experience. Honesty is mandatory-ON BOTH sides. I’ll always appreciate my blackness, my culture and my community-but I’ll NEVER exclude possibilities from my life that lay outside the borders of my blackness.
Life.is. good.
Ok…I’m going to do 2 posts for Valentine’s Day. One with photos that represent Valentine’s Day, and the second will highlight a proposal.
After that, it’s B.A.U. (Blogging As Usual).:)
After that, it’s B.A.U. (Blogging As Usual).:)
Don’t let your marital status dictate how you spend the day!
Have funnnnnn & Happy Valentine’s Day!
Images courtesy of Google Images
My Black man
Being honest with others is not a problem for me. However, being honest with myself is. Since I’ve been single far longer than I care to meditate on, it has given me cause to reflect, visualize, change and grow. Maybe it’s because in less than 3 months I’ll be entering a new decade — my fourth decade, to be exact. But I can’t help but think about my Black man, the Black man that I can’t wait to appreciate!That’s right: I said it. I can’t wait to appreciate my Black man. I’ve listened to Mary J. Blige’s song “Feel Like A Woman” and cosign the lyrics, “I’m tired of being independent; I want to start depending on you.” If that makes me look soft, like a sucker, if it means I have to take down, so be it.
I want my Black man to know that I appreciate the labor he does in the world outside in order to strengthen the foundation of our world on the inside (of our home). I want him to know my eyes are for him only, as is my sashay, my smile, the scent upon my neck that causes him to transcend time.
My Black man, all that I am is for you. I’m not your enemy, but your ally. I want to love you, hold you, and console you, especially when carrying the burdens of a Black man is so heavy that your shoulder, neck and back ache. Let me work the kinks out of your life, or better yet, let me stand back, praise you, and edify you as you work them out.
Did I tell you that you are my hero? Lois may have her Clark Kent, and Jaime may have Steve Austin. But no superhero can compare to Bria’s Black man who is able to tell a mountain to be removed, has faith the size of a mustard seed, believes for the impossible, and knows whatever weapon is formed against him will not prosper. My Black man, without question I will follow you to the ends of the earth.
Thank you for living for me. So many people have been misguided by the cliché “I’ll die for you,” but will you really? It’s harder to live for me, seeing past my faults, mistakes, and flaws. Apologizing when it was I who erred. I agree, what good is it to die for me when we promised to spend an eternity together?
My Black man, I am here as your lover, your friend, confidante, compadre, shadow, helpmeet, critic, tie straightener, crumbs remover, hair analyst, spell checker, sounding board, temple massager, your ottoman — whatever you need me to be, so I shall be to you. I appreciate you not for anything other than who you are.
The questions raised are: Are you ready for me? Can you handle unconditional love, laughter, joy, hand-holding, butterfly kisses, a word in kind, passionate loving, heated words, spirited debates, stick-in-stay, til-death-do-us-part, lifetime partners, undying loyalty, zaniness, walks in the rain, unity, exchanging looks and not saying a word. Can you handle success?
No, no, shhhhh, don’t speak just yet. Take some time before giving your answer. Search the depths of your soul, become naked in your very own eyes, and let Truth have her way.
Forever, I am available to you. I honor you. I revere you. I appreciate you.
But most of all, my Black man, I love you.
Bria
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