“My new friend is handsome, African-American, intelligent and seemingly wealthy. He is an athlete, loves his momma, and is happily married to a White woman. I admit when I saw his wedding ring, I privately hoped. But something in me just knew he didn't marry a sister. Although my guess hit the mark, when my friend told me his wife was indeed Caucasian, I felt my spirit...wince. I didn't immediately understand it. My face read happy for you. My body showed no reaction to my inner pinch, but the sting was there, quiet like a mosquito under a summer dress.”
It is hard to make a case for someone who used to be with the chocolatiest of chocolate sistas when he was “po, broke, and had no dough” then suddenly after “making it” he joins the No Black Girls Allowed Club. I’m just saying, something about it just doesn’t seem right and something ain’t right about saying all sistas are gold-digging, whores with not education or conversation. Who hurt you bruh?
What is relevant is the part about an empty bed which is what she should have discussed in more detail. Because she is not a struggling single mother, single mother yes, but struggling to make ends meet, no.
I would like to read more about why it feels frustrating and why it hurts to see a black man with a white woman and not that “because of slavery sentiment” (though it is very real). Real talk. I’d like to read more personal feeling and real life experiences, maybe I’ll blog about it.