Wednesday, January 21, 2015

up the wrong tree..

I had a memory of meeting a nice mild mannered sort of nerdy black guy before I left Seattle. He was tall, brown skinned like I was, on the thin side and reasonably attractive. He wore his hair cut low and very plain clothes. No frills or trendy anything, but clean and nicely presented. I was attracted to his quirkiness and intellect. We both loved the first Matrix movie. He read lots of black literature and I swooned when we talked about our favorite books. Our first date we went to a bookstore and played the 'what is this book about' game based on the cover art. It was a perfectly whimsical day. I went home full of hope and giddy with the excitement of seeing him again. 

Then...

We were having a conversation that night and he tells me that he wants to be kept by a middle aged white woman. 'You know, like Martha Stewart.' I threw up a little in my mouth. I waited for him to burst out laughing and say sike. He never did. I asked if he was serious, and he said he was dead serious. "That's what I like, middle aged white women." 
I was thrown to the side again. Even if I saw him again, how could I ignore what he told me? It made me nauseous. It made my head hurt. I just wanted to forget him.

Fast forward a decade and there is this vision of perfection on line again. He friend requests me on a social media site. I say yes and he disappears. He reappears on another social media site. We are friends there too. He is gorgeous, with dreadlocks, and a musician. He's the ALT black man that I long for but can never capture the attention of. The unfortunate side affect of the ALT black man is that he can sometimes be a product of being in an all white community which tells him he is odd, unusual. Or a novelty. Being a novelty he somehow misconstrues as being special and embraces the idea that he is a pet to whites. His idea of what is beautiful then becomes the dominant culture, and he then loses touch with his own. White women constantly pursue him and are always sexually available to him. He doesn't have to do any work. Just be the 'black guy' in the room, and they will stampede. He doesn't realize he's being exoticised , and used as a human dildo. I guess men don't care about that as long as they get all the sex and adoration they think want. 

Now with that being said....

Breaking through this mentality is nearly impossible. I pine away from afar. He is on the other side of the country. What can I do. I swore off long distance crap. I need to be held and look into someone's eyes. Then I, decide to move across country. He lives in the city where I am moving. 

On one blazingly hot day I am doing errands all over town. It is 100 degrees out and I am sweating like crazy. I have a sweat stain through the front of my t shirt. I get on the train and who is standing in the crowd reading a book? HIM! I couldn't believe it! But I was in no condition to make myself known. I was a mess, and covered in sweat. I tried to twist around to see what book he was reading but I couldn't find out. He was even more gorgeous in person. Nothing sexier than a man who reads.

I found out through friends what his real name was, and then would eventually see his name in groups I was in in FB. I would friend request him and he would accept. Naturally I wouldn't be able to resist going through his pictures. In most of them he would be the only black person. The bands he was in same thing. In one set of photos it would look like he was on a road trip to Texas. There would be a gangly red headed woman with him. Not traditionally pretty in any way. They seemed friendly, then there were photos of a motel. Then the motel swimming pool. Most off putting, her in the room posing in her swimsuit. She was clearly trying to seduce him. The next picture she is standing with a gangly white dude at what seems like a wedding reception.  The swimsuit in the room picture made my stomach churn like Martha Stewart had. 

It seemed that women of color were categorically dismissed. That we have become invisible to men like this. That black women when they were coming up may have called them names or accused them of being soft. So they held onto this their whole lives. All black women are the same. All black women are ignorant and judgmental. Especially the ones that aren't covered in tattoos, piercings, wear natural hair and are societies preference of skinny. If you aren't these then you don't have a snowballs chance in hell to maybe catch his attention. So I have to become some rock n roll cliche to get your attention? I have to prove that I am not 'like other black women' in order for you to give me the time of day? The Lenny Kravitz' and Ben Harper's of the world feel rejected by black people as a whole, so black women are not on their radar. Even if they are successful, rich and beautiful. They are still black. An slightly overweight, financially struggling ok looking girl can just forget it. Regardless of all the things they have in common.  

Is it self hatred? I have heard it called preference. "I prefer being with ANY other race except my own." A buck toothed fat white woman with multiple baby fathers over a gorgeous, educated black woman with no children. He picks the fat white woman. 

I can't waste my life with this foolishness. 

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