Being the Internet junkie I am, I spend a lot of time avoiding client work by hanging out on discussion boards and reading blogs. During the past few months, I have started reading more and more blogs by Black women who are interested in or are involved in interracial relationships. Now I enjoy reading them since after all, my very beloved spousal unit happens to be white, even my no longer beloved ex-spousal unit is white. Yet as I like to joke the fact that when I married a second time, I married yet another white man was the universe’s way of telling me don’t ever say never..
See, when the not so beloved ex and I split up, I swore up and down, I was done with white men and I meant that from the bottom of my heart. In fact to prove my point I immediately hooked up with a Black man in what became a roller coaster of an emotional ride. That relationship was probably the most passionate that I have ever been involved in, the highs were high and the lows were low but in the end, despite giving 250%, the relationship crashed and burned after it was learned that brotha man was not as faithful as I expect my man to be. All I will say is that his Blackness probably saved him from some of the evil shit I have done in the past to white partners that have wronged me. (I used to be a real crazy broad, like I joke I am 1/8 Mexican and handy with a blade, I will cut a motha who wrongs me).
No, I did not run back to white men after getting done wrong by brotha man, but just figured that again if I ever took that long walk down the short aisle it would be with a man who shared my cultural makeup. However fate intervened and the hubster walked into my life and despite my desire for a man of my own hue, meeting a man who shared the qualities and values that I find critical in a mate, I decided to overlook that one pesky trait he lacked and that I desired…a high melanin content.
We have been married 11 years this fall, together 13 years and its been a ride. We love each other, we don’t argue much and considering that he puts up with my perimenopausal ass without much fuss does make him a keeper. Plus any man that can change shitty diapers without being asked gets a gold star.
However race does matter and it matters even more to me as I get older and no, I am not getting rid of him anytime soon. But when I hear sistas clamor to connect with white men because they think they will have better relationships, I must admit a part of me gets sad. Then when I hear sistas bash Black men, I must admit I actually get mad. See having done this marriage thing for a long time now, I know that a man is just a man and yes white boys may initially have a few more advantages over the brothas but at the end of the day, a white man is just a man. They can break your heart in a million pieces just like a Black man and sometime say shit that will hurt you more than anything a Black man can do.
When I see young sistas catagorically reject Black men, it makes me wonder how do they feel about their fathers? Brothers? Uncles? My dad was the first man I loved and my brother the second, so if I were to say all Black men are shit, what would I be saying about my own Pops? Catch my drift?
No, its ok to want to date across the racial spectrum but at the end of the day, I say fall in love with a person for who they are inside, not because you think a certain type of man is better than another. Living in Maine, I see plenty of white women wishing they had a decent man so I know all women are looking for Mister Right.
Yet when we say no to people who look like us, I think that speaks volumes for who we are deep down. Truth is we live in a society that pretty much does not value Black women, its for us to claim our space in this place and value ourselves but if valuing ourselves means tearing down our brothas, I say fuck that shit. Thing is even when you partner with a white man and have his babies, them children will still share your Black DNA and as a sista friend and I were discussing its important that biracial kids know who they are because we live in a world that despite the lip-service we give to embracing diversity as my son can tell you, them kids are considered Black.
So love who you want sistas, just don’t forget where we come from in the process.