"Done" With Black Men...? NEVER!

Not too long ago, one of my friends declared on his facebook page that he was "done with sistas".

Being a "sista" of course, I took offense to that statement.

When he and I spoke about it, he claimed that he was frustrated about a failed relationship, was not serious and that he could never be done with us. But then he added that he has traveled all around the world and has noticed that black women are definitely "unlike" other women.

I don't think this was meant to be a compliment, though.

*Sigh.*

Most black men have very strong opinions about black women - our so-called attitudes, our independence, our bodies, our choices...everything about us has been discussed, analyzed, dissected and criticized.

Some of them love us and say that they will only marry and make babies with a black woman.

Others are "done".

Many of the ones who say this also have no shame in trashing us, while expressing their negative point of view.

Their reasons often make no sense and quite frankly, piss me off.

But let me calm down...I don't want to be labeled as another "Angry Black Woman."

LOL.

I'm not addressing any of those things...today.

But I have been thinking a lot about these black men who say they are "done" with black women and I have a message for them:

I will NEVER say that I am done with black men.

I've dated my fair share of guys. I've crushed on, casually hung out with and have been romantically involved with men from other races, but all of my significant relationships have been with black men.

My father is black.

My stepfather is black.

My stepbrothers are black.

My uncles, cousins, grandfathers...all black.

Guy friends...they're black too.

Obviously, I've had experience with black men.

It hasn't been all pretty.

In fact, some of it has been downright ugly.

Because I've only loved black men, this means that every tear I've cried and every scar on my fragile, lil' heart has been caused by a black man.

Such is love and life, though.

God never promised us a pain-free existence, just that He'd always be there to help us make it through (Matthew 28:20).

I think that the bad experiences should remind us to hold onto and cherish the good ones.

I'm certainly not going to demean and degrade black men just because some of the ones I've chosen have been *expletives.* (Lol)

Yes, I certainly have been hurt by black men, but I have been LOVED by them as well, so how could I ever say that I'm done with black men when:

My father takes care of my dog whenever I travel. He cooks big meals for me when I spend the night at his house. He changes the oil and fixes the brakes on my car. I can call him crying, at 11 p.m. after seeing a mouse and he will comfort me and tell me to calm down. He has helped me move into every place I've ever lived, lets me have parties at his house and usually caters them. He buys my favorite wine and bubble gum, and promises that when he wins the lottery, my sister and I will be set forever. :-)

A black man.

My stepfather, who has been in my life for almost 10 years, loves my mother the way the Bible tells a husband to love his wife (Ephesians 5:25). It is an awesome thing to see. From day one, he accepted my sister and me as his daughters and has never distinguished us from his own children. He is willing to drive almost two hours to my house to show me how to caulk a window or fix a busted headlight on my car. He calls just to check on me and is always there to give financial, spiritual or relationship advice when I need it.

A black man.

Black men have held me all night and kissed me all day.

Black men have told me that they love my full lips and my sometimes out of control, curly hair.

They have told me that I'm beautiful in the morning - stinky breath, eye boogies and all.

They have said that my body is perfect the way that it is and that I don't need to change anything.

Black men have created CDs for me with my favorite music.

Black men have delivered saltines and ginger ale to me when I was sick.

Black men have given me flowers and teddy bears and chocolate candy.

A black man made a "hot water bottle" for me using gallon-sized Ziploc bags when I needed immediate relief from killer cramps.

Black men have listened to me complain about my job, my friends and my family. They have given me advice and have been my strength when I was weak.

A black man thinks about me when he reads articles about wine or fashion and emails them to me.

Black men have made me laugh so hard that my stomach ached.

A black man stayed up with me all night when I had a toothache and couldn't sleep.

A black man used to draw candlelit baths for me so I could relax in peace after a long day.

Black men have wined and dined me.

Black men have offered to beat down other black men who have hurt me. (Ha ha.)

Black men have prayed with me and for me.

A black man was celibate with me for a year because we had plans to marry and wanted our relationship to be pleasing to God.

Black men have taught me about patience, loyalty and acceptance.

They've shown me why I shouldn't take myself so seriously.

They've shown me how to have fun.

They are not perfect.

They don't always know what to do or what to say. They make mistakes and sometimes are too arrogant to apologize.

...But doesn't everyone do these things?

They are intelligent and strong and God-fearing.

They handle their business and take care of their families.

They are dark chocolate, mocha, caramel and vanilla.

They smell so good.

They are lovely and wonderful and delicious.

For me, the good far outweighs the bad.

I do not have a problem with interracial relationships. I am not saying that I could not date, or possibly marry, outside of my race but...

I will NEVER say that I am "done" with black men.

To make a statement such as this would not only be ignorant but would also hurt me and why would I want to do that?

I love me. :-)

And I love black men.

XOXO,

Alonna