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Perspective: The Introduction

Building a relationship, a friendship with a man. It’s necessary. It’s rewarding in many ways. It’s exhausting. Put a lot of effort in because, It’s so valuable. A brother, a father, some honest perspective, learning about their experience helps me understand my responsibility as a mother to my sons.


The thing is, there seems to be a mirage of who I am based on the assumptions that are made regarding the qualities instilled in black women. Generally, I am perceived as a specific ‘type’ of person, a specific ‘type’ of woman, they treat me as such. With less consideration, with less effort, with less regard, with less patience, with less respect.


I feel like it’s necessary to constantly remind the person that I’m dealing with, “no I’m an honest person, a trustworthy person, a loving person, a considerate person, a valuable person, a worthy woman”. That’s actually not just for men. I have to constantly remind many of those that I’m just starting to build relationships with. Why does it feel like people look at me with blinders on, approaching me with displaced resentment, disinterest, distrust, when I should be approached with gratitude, love, appreciation. Why do you treat me as expendable when there is no other of comparison honestly. [insert “we as black woman” statement here] Lets be honest here please.


It’s painful to choose to accept it from you, when you wouldn’t do the same for me. I tell you that you’re beautiful, you’re God, you’re strength, you’re love. I show you that you are. No thank you? I speak life into you, one touch from me and you’re saved. No thank you? I am the mother that you dreamed of, the love you preconceived.


You let your place in the world mess with that psyche; flipped the value of gold to the value of dust. I have to step back from you to keep my value. Not because I don’t care. It’s because you don’t. Just know that when you miss me, when you realize how rare this is, try begging, it may help.


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