The PTSD of Being A Black Woman in Search of A Black Man
I’ve never noticed how many powerful ‘P’ words there were until I decided on the name for this blog; The P Word. Sure, P is for me, Parker. But P can also be for a host of other P words. Power, Passion, Pussy, and even as deep as PTSD.
PTSD isn’t a word, per se, but an acronym signifying Post-Traumatic Stress. We hear of PTSD quite often when it comes to situations of trauma. Like war, relationships, or the loss of someone close. Any situation that you’ve been in that can have a negative, long term effect on you can be considered post-traumatic. But we don’t often hear how traumatic it can be to be to be on the receiving end of disapproval from your own.
Imagine being at the bottom of the totem pole as the minority in a country that wasn’t built for you. Welcome to the world of the black person. Now imagine being at the bottom of the totem pole as the minority where your counterpart, the black male, chooses to belittle and disrespect you and make you feel like you’re undeserving of the love from people who look like you do . Welcome to the world of the black woman.
It’s a long running joke that in the eyes of some black men, black women are deemed aggressive, unruly, too head-strong, and unable to let a man be… a man. And those are the reasons why black women are ridiculed and why black men justify why they don’t choose us.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Love who you love. As long as it’s for the sake of love and not for the sole purpose of hurting another. Your own. I often see some black men love women of other races for no other reason except that they aren’t black. Except that they aren’t us. What in the self hate?
But this isn’t about them. It’s about us. Because though some don’t realize, being the constant butt of a long running joke is in fact…traumatic. Feeling like you aren’t good enough to the men who are supposed to love you in spite of not being good enough by the rest of the world is…painful.
More often than not, the black woman is the black man’s biggest supporter. We fight for our kings only to be dismissed in return. Only to be told that we’re too this, too that, not enough of this or too much of that. As if we don’t hear that enough.
I don’t claim that black women aren’t possibly all of those things that they are claimed to be. Maybe sometimes we are aggressive and head strong, or maybe we come off that way because our strength and passion are often misunderstood. We’re tired. We spend our days trying to prove to everyone that we are deserving of our place. As a mother, an employee, an artist, a partner, a citizen. The next time you think of a black woman as these things, keep in mind that we are the counterpart of our black men. We feel what you feel too. The difference is, you have us to lean on.
Dear Kings, If you ever find yourself wondering what it is that the black woman may have to offer, think of your mother. Think of how she gets things done by any means with a smile. Think of how you hardly see her broken even though that seems to be the goal by many. To break her. Think about the lanes that we’ve created for ourselves when no one had a place for us. When you hear black woman, understand that it’s synonymous for strength, courage, passion. Synonymous for Queen.
I encourage black men to understand and take a look at the lasting effect on what they call preferences. If you don’t prefer romantic relationships with black women, that’s fine. But please stop bashing us along the way. We’re strong enough to take rejection without the perception that we just aren’t enough. Because we are enough. Possibly too much for some.
With love,
A Black Woman
