For Black Girls Who Have Considered Leaving Black Men When the Abuse is Enuf

up until last week, i rejected the idea of dating outside of my race. when my friends asked why, i lightly brushed it off. “i don’t know. i just couldn’t do a pink penis” or “i want my children to look just like me.” when in reality, i don’t care about either of those things although a mini me would most certainly be a gift to this world.

lately, as i reflect in this period of solitude and celibacy, i am reminded of all of the times that i chose to be with someone, a black man, who was hurting me over my aloneness. did i hate myself that much… was i that insecure…why didn’t i just leave him alone…why did i try to make something that didn’t work, work are all questions that come to mind.

my therapist told me to think of my inner child in his presence. “would you let someone treat a little girl this way?” and my answer was of course not. she would follow up with “so why are you accepting this behavior?” and again the answer is familiarity. i knew it was not “love”. i knew it was not even close, but this treatment from black men was something that i was used to.

i know that the energy of love is inviting. it is kind. it is warm. it gives you the space and freedom to transform into the best version of you and that’s how i know i have never experienced it in a romantic relationship.

i emotionally shut down after last winter when somebody i was seeing, who had already proven to be emotionally abusive, physically attacked me in my home. it was extremely difficult to process because i couldn’t accept that someone that i cared about deeply put his hands on me. i never wanted domestic violence to be a part of my story. it feels so embarrassing, and i know it’s not, but i was embarrassed and ashamed for a while. almost immediately, after that incident, i picked up bell hook’s all about love. it had been recommended to me many times before, but it felt necessary to read in that moment.

i think about hook’s passage about love and abuse a lot. she says:

“When we understand love as the will to nurture our own and another's spiritual growth, it becomes clear that we cannot claim to love if we are hurtful and abusive. Love and abusive cannot coexist. Abuse and neglect are, by definition, the opposites of nurturance and care.” 

i know my story as a black woman with an abusive man is a common one in the black community. 

40% of black women experience domestic violence in their lifetime. Black women are 2.5 times more likely to be killed by their partners. 

black women mostly date other black men so you get the picture.

nearly all of my friends who date black men have shared horrific stories with me about being emotionally or physically abused at the hands of black men. most of us want to have children with black men, but lately the question has been at what cost? there seems to always be something lacking in the partnerships with black women and black men that i have witnessed. i don’t know if it has something to do with our age range, but these niggas are seriously behind. 

i don’t hear about men from different races trying to “build” with the women they date and i’m uninterested in that type of relationship.

i’m uninterested in struggle love. i’m uninterested in competing for a man’s attention. i’m uninterested in recreating harmful childhood dynamics in adult relationships. i’m uninterested in being the breadwinner of my future home (which most black women who date black men are by the way.) i’m uninterested in mothering my partner. i’m uninterested in having children unless i’m married. (i say this not to contribute to any myths about black parenthood but because 70% of black children are born to parents who aren’t married, and i don’t know what that’s about but it won’t be my story.* i make this point to clarify that black men are not marrying us statistically. so if your desire is to get married, you might as well expand your dating pool.)

while living in Mexico, my friend has been dating a white man, and the treatment is unlike anything i have ever seen or experienced. i know that shitty men exist across all races and i am also aware that good black men exist, however, i will no longer limit my chances of experiencing healthy love by restricting my racial preference. based on how i’ve been treated by my preference, it no longer makes sense. i have so much to offer and the men that i have met so far are not even half of me.

just last week, i rejected a black man who pursued me for months. he responded with a string of insults about my physical appearance. i was triggered because it reminded me that was not the first time a black man has done that to me. i have had entanglements with men who have done the same thing to me after we ended. my self-esteem is still recovering but it seems, i cannot escape harm from black men even when i’m not dating them. i cannot think of another group of women of a different race that get treated as poorly as black women do by black men, and yet we still desire them.

the worst part is even the ones that seem good…the ones that openly dote on their black partners in public and scream protect black women are also abusive. i don’t know why it seems like a majority of black men are abusive and i’m not a psychologist so i don’t care to figure it out, but all i know is that i deserve more, and i will never accept crumbs again.

now, i keep a list of the type of qualities my future partner must have in my notes in hopes that i manifest someone good for me. i also keep a list of red flags, and will not hesitate to cut anyone who violates anything on the list when i start dating again. 

i want to end this piece with a poem called Questions For the Women I Was Last Night by Warsan Shire.

how far have you walked for men who’ve never held your feet in their laps?
how often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?
why do you find the unavailable so alluring?
where did it begin? what went wrong? and who made you feel so worthless?
if they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you?
all this time, you were begging for love silently
thinking they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you
you must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin
and what about the others that would do anything for you?
why did you make them love you until you could not stand it?
how are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?
where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?
where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay?