by today's Urban Chameleon contributor
Today at work where I was producing a show I had a voice over artist come in to record a couple of scripts. I've worked with her before. Super sweet. Friendly. Down to earth. And a sister. I knew from a previous session that she was getting married this past weekend, so when I saw her today I congratulated her with a hug and the instinctual "do you have pictures?".
Thinking back to when she initially told me about her nuptial plans, I recall the question in my head, wondering if her then fiance was white. Not to intentionally be so presumptuous, but there does seem to be a crop of sisters who don't surprise me when I discover through their facebook photos that they're dating or married to a white dude. Shoot, my sister is married to a white dude. And, as you may have guessed, the lovely voice over artist is, in fact, now married to a white dude as well - as proven by the photo of the two of them kissing on their wedding day that she promptly presented me with on her cell phone. Her mom sent her that photo. Still waiting on the pocket size professional shots, I assume. I digress...
My point is, I've begun to identify a pattern of brown skin sisters marrying or shacking up with the whitest dudes in town. And it kind of bothers me...kind of... that I'm so very proud that I am a sista who dates the brothas, a conscious choice to continue to evolve Black love. Why was that so important? Because Black love (for me) was to be protected. It had survived slavery, separation, lost, blood, secrecy, identity crisis and complication and a whole host of other sh*t too deep for words so therefore its evolution was sacred to me. I can't deny that there is this inner dialog that goes something like this:
Me: Ohmigod girl you got marriage?! Do you have pictures just so I can confirm he's white?
Other sister: yeah, look! It was such a perfect day.
Me: mmm hmm. A white boy. I knew it. - oh, is that my MAN coming to surprise me at work? (Enter fine and kind chocolate brotha) yeah. He holds me down.
I guess I just feel like a white man couldn't ever fully understand me. Don't get it twisted, I've dated the other white meat. Aaaand it just wasn't a good fit for me. An unfilled hole or another way to put it - too many damn issues. I know its hard for Black women to find good Black men. The odds are definitely not in our favor especially when there's the Black men that just date white women. Did you see, even Xzibit is dating a white chic?! Yeah. X to tha Z. I definitely do not knock love when it's real. When it's healthy and strong. Love, afterall, is what binds us. It's the reason we're here and the reason we get out of bed in the morning. I just have my preference of what I will get out or better yet stay in bed for. And a gal's gotta have an inner dialog that makes her giggle.
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