Black Love, Baby!
Is it possible?
I was just reading the website of a bi-racial (white mother/black father) sistah who is obsessed with who black men are fucking and how black women are being mistreated by black men.
The rage, the venom, the hating by these women of these men who supposedly chose Miss Anne over them projectile vomits through the screen.
But where is the love?
I don’t hear it, don’t hear the love, but rather proprietary entitlement: he’s MY man, sounding all the while like an infant that wants what it wants when it wants it.
I hear appeals to racial loyalty fo’ so’, we’re supposed to be together because we’re supposed to be, said with fire. But is that gonna bring a brotha back from the otha side? It hasn’t worked yet, has it?
Perhaps there is another way. I’ve learned only recently that I have to look at my part in ANYTHING that’s happening in my life that ain’t going my way. What part do I play? What is it about me that am I drawing these
fill in the blank things to me? You don’t think you have any responsibility – well, pretend for a minute.
Suppose you attract into your life EXACTLY what you think and feel about – ALL OF THE TIME!? Would you take a closer look at the actual internal messaging coursing through you and fix that – fix it before you expect Prince Charming to show up?
Would you learn to have a REAL relationship with yourself, instead of the ‘ bare bones-limited self-acquaintance mirage which characterizes more than a few of us. Yes, we know our anger at other people for not being or giving us what we want.
But who are you?
Do you even love yourself?
I look at those websites and the self hatred, the myopia yoddles: The BAD black man, woe is me. Three fingers pointing right backatcha.
Let me repeat: Do you love yourself? Are you sure?
Anger is understandable, but is the proportion? The direction of it? Where is the anger at the white man who created this hellhole for all of us and maintains it? There is no contextualizing of experience. One of our faults as people of color has always been our openness. When the white man arrived on native shores the world over, rarely were they met with anything less than generosity. In general, the non-white have been less prejudiced and less exclusive than the white man. I tend to think its in our nature.
Fast forward to today where the same general tendencies are evident, but placed in the context of a racist/white supremacist “brainwash camp” and what the hell do you expect?????
Blacks sleep with whites, whites sleep with blacks, yellows, reds, blues. Certainly, self hate may play a role in many if not most of these border crossings. So what?
You don’t think you hate yourself? How many black women have whisk broom hair, are morbidly obese, etc, etc? Is it fair to look at those cases and generalize about ALL black women, use that as a justification to date white women, or stay compulsively, obsessively focused 24/7 on the shortcomings of black women?
Cuz it really sounds like a justification – creating a blog that is all about how bad black men are – justifies ones being and remaining alone and miserable, which I’m told one can do all by themselves. Without ANY justification or scapegoat at all.
Let’s us take a deep breath, black people. Yes, we have issues, challenges, hurdles, obstacles. But they are both internal and external. Which ones can you control?
You believe in black love, right – LOVE yourself, be love, treat your body, emotions, spirit correctly, marry yourself FIRST, and then maybe, just maybe you will attract what you REALLY want and not what you don’t want – which if that’s all you’re thinking about, you’re gonna attract it anyway.
Peace and Love, BABY!!