All posts by Black Girls Cry

I remember being told when I was growing up that I was crying "crocodile tears." As an adult my tears were neglected and I've been told to "be strong." So this blog is a safe space for Black women and girls to express themselves and find words that fit.

Increasing Emotional Intelligence by Giving “Full Consideration”

Emotional intelligence, something young girls are conditioned to have, and boys are conditioned to lack. I find that when I interact with most men I often have to teach them how to be sensitive in general, as well as sensitive to me.  It’s not my duty to teach my partners how to have a healthy baseline of emotional intelligence; it can be exhausting.

 To me, it is not fair to have to over-think in order to translate how to have basic relationship skills to my partner. When I think of a partner, I think of someone who’s evenly yolked in multiple different areas (spiritual, mental, emotional, sexual, and practical). This is so in a relationship we can focus on bettering each other from a shared baseline.


What happens if you’re not evenly yolked with someone, and you have mix-matched baselines?


The way I see it, a relationship is the meshing of two people to create a partnership (one unit). Follow my metaphor:

  • Relationship = Hybrid plant
  • Partner 1 = Mango plant
  • Plant 2 = Lemon plant.

For these two individual plants to become a hybrid, each must coexist with full consideration of what each plant requires.


Well, what does “full” consideration look like?


Fair question don’t you think? I’m going to start with what full consideration isn’t. Full consideration is not selfish, nor is it self serving. Full consideration is the act of taking yourself out of your own body (metaphorically speaking), and into the perspective of an imaginary third party to then decide what is the best decision for all parties involved.  Women in my experience are taught this level of consideration from an early age. These teachings can range from reasonable considerations or to unfair considerations. See an example of both:


“I’m really stressed out, and having a drink is what I’m used to doing to feel better. But now I’m pregnant, so I have to find a new coping mechanism.”


“Damn, I really feel confident in this dress. But it’s a bit short, and I don’t want guys to think they can grope me because I’m wearing it.”


As where the latter consideration may be accurate, it is unfair to expect women to give an unfair level of consideration to others.  If men were condition to have high levels of emotional intelligence, women may not consider their safety and survival when choosing to do ever day activities. Studies show that once girls begin puberty (sexual development), they are twice as likely have an anxiety disorder than men are. A clear correlation can’t be made without further research, but I do think that it’s a study worth conducting.

Should women stop being so considerate? No, that’s not what I’m arguing. I think that our society does not raise men and women to be evenly yolked emotionally, so in return you see women having to be hyper-sensitive to the needs of others and men lacking in that area of emotional intelligence.


So what can be done to even the playing field?


In order for men and women to be evenly yolked, a desire to increase their emotional intelligence and unlearn unhealthy habits is needed. This desire should not be motivated by a girl they are attracted to, because women do not exist to be rewards for men who learn basic decency. The desire should not be motivated by the desire to have sex, because if you’re only a feminist to get laid then you haven’t truly increased your emotional intelligence (i’mma challenge y’all to think about why that is). The desire must be driven by the want to improve as a person, and to the best version of who you can be as a human being. This in turn will breed more emotionally intelligent people who are taking balanced consideration into each other’s needs, which makes it so one person does not have to be hyper-sensitive and over-extend themselves because of the other person.


So back to our plant example:

  • Semi-Consideration: Only looks at the type of environment that the mango tree is comfortable in, and developing an environment that’s best the mango plant, thus leaving the lemon plant as an afterthought.
  • Full Consideration: Takes into account what both plants need to survive on their own, and find a way to create a compromise for those plants so they can have an environment conducive to mutual growth. Only when both plants have a fair amount of their needs met can they become a hybrid plant and have a healthy relationship.


I would argue that if someone isn’t able to/doesn’t desire to give full consideration in their relationship, I do not think that they are ready to be in a healthy relationship. I also think that there are situations where no matter how much consideration is given, two people are not able to meet their own separate needs together (these people are incompatible). It does hurt if people aren’t ready to be in a healthy relationship, or when they aren’t compatible with you. But, it’s better to know that then to over-extend yourself, and eventually find yourself in a toxic or abusive relationship. I think that when we respect people, we treat them with consideration because they matter. I hope you noticed that this post was cis-normative, because now the next step of consideration for men and women is to consider the feelings and needs of people who don’t fit in the gender binary.

Consideration isn’t selfish, nor is it self serving. Consideration is going beyond yourself. I challenge you all to increase your emotional intelligence, the world will be a better place when we treat each other a little better.

BLACK WOMEN: A BATTLEGROUND FOR OUR SOULS

“This brother here, myself and all of us were born with our hair like this, and we just wear it like this because it’s natural. The reason for it, you might say, is like a new awareness among Black people that their own natural physical appearance is beautiful and is pleasing to them. For so many years, we were told that only white people were beautiful–that only straight hair, light eyes, light skin was beautiful so Black women would try everything they could — straighten their hair, lighten their skin— to look as much like white women. This has changed because black people are aware. White people are aware of it too because white people now want natural wigs like this. Dig it. Isn’t it beautiful? Alright.”


Kathleen Cleaver, 1968

When you’re a Black Woman, you never truly feel like your body is yours. Your skin becomes the light of a riot, your body the playing field for political wars. Your ass is sexualized for White bodies, and your identity is a scapegoat for Black men. When you’re a Black woman your body is a secret for uncles to stare at, and aunties to demonize. When your a Black woman your features are for White Women to appropriate, and for society to make a mockery of. When you’re a Black woman, you become a very special type of tired. Your body becomes a temple for any colonizer to invade, so you teach yourself to hide your spirit where the sage flies high. When you’re a Black woman, the only safe place exists with our ancestors and the Orishas on a plane we still have yet to define. When you’re a Black woman, you learn an attitude. You learn a bitch face, a look of dissatisfaction, a mean mug, an aura of aggression. 

“Of course I’m mad, I’m as mad as I am Black. I’m as mad as I am Woman.” 

Saartjie “Sarah” Baartman, died December 29th, 1815, her stuffed body wasn’t buried until August 9th, 2002. Lucy, Anarcha, and Betsey, while alive the world was told that ‘Black women don’t feel pain.’ Their bodies were used without consent, without anesthesia, to birth the “Father of Modern Gynecology.” Serena Williams, unarguably one of the most iconic athletics of our time, and frequently compared to a man or a monkey. Tell me how I’m supposed to love me when everything about me is under continuous critique. How am I not tempted to bleach my skin, and install a weave when nothing about this world is conducive to my external existence? Self-love is something that is difficult for anyone to possess. But ain’t it incompassionate to tell Black women to love ourselves, when since we touched foot on America our bodies became objects of labor, objectification, (sexual) abuse, and exploitation? How am I supposed to love me when it is because of my identity that society seems to hate me?

Regennia Johnson,December 7, 2016

“Her name is Tiarah Poyau. On Tuesday, September 6th, I found out a young Black woman who was my same age was fatally shot in the face for doing what I had just done the night before in Madrid, Spain. I was reminded what it meant to not only be a woman, but to be a woman of color, to be a Black woman who commands ownership of her body. To be vocal, resilient, and push back towards the objectification and entitlement over our bodies. I fought with the reality that as much as I want to go off on men who don’t understand NO or “I’m not interested”, by doing so, whether politely or not, I could be next on the list of women who died due to fragile masculinity. Rape culture, misogyny, racism, respectability politics, and extremely fragile masculinity are issues Black women experience differently than women of other races.”


Regennia Johnson, December 7, 2016

To be Black Woman is to be a constant fighter and advocate of your own humanity. To think for yourself, to transcend toxic tribal mentality. To be a Black Woman is to shatter expectations, and not concern yourself with stereotypes. To be a Black woman is to wear your hair blonde and nappy, or straight and colored like cotton-candy. To be a Black woman is to be your own freedom, your own serenity, your own divine being. To be a Black woman is to define your own strength, through sensitivity, through spirituality, through tears, through throwing heels, and clapping hands between your words. To be a Black woman is to be a multidimensional individual. To be a Black woman means being your own momma sometimes, it means finding that little Black girl inside of you and protecting her.

To me, to be a Black Woman, you must learn to be carefree.  Thank you for being, because of Y’all I am. 

Y’all hate Tiffany Haddish but Love Cardi because society wants Memes, not Black Lives

With the popularization of Black culture(s) and the increase of allies, I couldn’t help but notice (especially living in the Liberal bubble that is New York City), Y’all don’t really know about Black Culture(s). For many people, I think the lens they understand “Black culture” from is through the narratives of popular culture (via social media), and maybe an African American studies class they took once in college (bonus points if you minored in it). But when it actually comes to understanding Black culture(s), I still notice that most people fall short. The recent arrest of Arthur Posey, who is facing 2 charges of claiming false information of planned arson, because he expressed that he intends on “Blow the bathroom up,” goes to show that there’s a HUGE disconnect of cultural competency for Black people and our culture. Black women feel this frustration, because our bodies as where we have ideal physical features (large asses, thick lips, etc), we are literally reduced to those features.. That being said, our features are often looked down on, until White Women possess/appropriate those features.

From my perspective, this really speaks to society’s desire to capitalize on Blackness without taking the time (or interest) to really understand or appreciate it. I think this phenomenon explains why Cardi B is more accepted by society as opposed to Tiffany Haddish (obviously Colorism plays a role). Cardi B has gained her popularity in part because of talent, he ability to be relatable, and because she capitalized on being viral due to memes. Yes fam, before Cardi B was a famous rapper, she was on Love and Hip Hop and definitely gained more mainstream notability than her co-stars for her usage of facial expressions, relatable comedy, and catchphrases. Cardi B has been able to take an identity that people typically look down on, and inspire people who’ve never stepped foot in the Bronx to wish that’s where they hailed from (sorta). This being said, I highly doubt most of the suburb teens singing along to “Bodak Yellow” aspire to actually step foot in the Bronx to actually learn about Cardi’s upbringing. Cardi is only one example, however, of how non-Black people enjoy the commercialization of Black folks but don’t actually hold any interest in learning about Black people. Cause bet, If Tiffany Haddish rebranded herself to be more “meme’able,” you’d likely see a spike in her popularity and to some extent “worth” in society. 

This is not to say Tiffany Haddish isn’t worthy, she absolutely is! But when I say “worth,” I mean her value in the eyes of a society that cares more for memes/pop-culture and not Black lives. In a lot of ways, Cardi B fits exactly who people expect a Black/Latina girl from the Bronx to be like. Tiffany Haddish however, doesn’t really fit any stereotypes that non-White folks can relate to. They don’t understand her humor, nor do they aspire to. Understanding Tiffany Haddish’s comedy (or the comedy of many other Black people) involves actually knowing Black people (you must have more than one Black friend to relate) and understanding the pressures society puts on us. Racism (and I’d argue colorism) comes into play when you realize that White people (and probably many non-Black people of color) have a harder time feeling empathy for Black people than they do their own race. Cardi B may not be a White woman, but she is biracial/light skin and we see that Lighter Black woman are treated and regarded better than darker Black women. Considering the Black women that people idolize, may it be Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, Beyonce, or Cardi B, you’ll find that the common denominator is Light skin. 

When Black women are able to break into mainstream culture it’s typically because of their ability to fit into a very stereotypical idea of what it means to be a Black woman (slave roles, baby momma roles, angry Black women roles, etc). Examples of that are Tiffany Pollard and GloZell Green, who’ve both had their 5-seconds of meme-worthy fame. Noted by the blog What Whites Will Never Know:

They (GloZell Green) reinforced negative stereotypes and reinforcing what the media taught the mainstream about Black people.” 

I do acknowledge that this post is entirely based on my opinion, perhaps I am being too “sensitive” about the topic. However, my experiences as a Black woman have to lead me to this conclusion. Throughout my life, I’ve found that people’s ideas of me as a Black women are largely shaped by stereotypes, and the very thought of having to expand their perspective of my identity was considered to be ‘too much work.’ In a lot of cases I find that boys on dating apps just want to focus on my ass and ability to twerk. Schools and organizations would prefer to just order soul food and play a slave movie on Black history month. Society seems like they’d rather just prefer to say #BlackLivesMatter than actually having to understand what’s going on in our Black lives.

I am interested in hearing your opinions, what do y’all think?

Find the “One” through Radical Self Acceptance

I’ve always heard that when you date you have to be yourself. That if someone loves you, they’ll truly love all of you. But what happens if you are too much, and all of you goes against what everyone’s ideal of love looks like? When I was growing up, I always heard that Black girls were least desired. When I got older I learned that I liked girls too, and my identity became a fetish in more than one way. As I explored my Blackness and my Sexuality, I felt as though I had so much love to give. In fact, there was so much love inside of me that I just didn’t think that love had to be contained for one person. I’ve tried to explore polyamory in my other relationships, I wasn’t jealous but they were, and then it ended. Let’s not even get on the topic of explaining to cis-men why I identify as trans. I was always expected to accept whatever religion they were, Christian, Muslim, Jewish. But my spirituality, my identity as someone who practices witchcraft was perceived as demonic.

“How am I supposed to love myself when all the world tells me that I am not desired, or worse, that I shouldn’t exist.”

I’ve spent my entire life being less of myself. Hiding in closets, yes I’m out to myself, but every time I’d date someone it felt like I’d have to come out again (no wonder I hate first dates). All my life I’ve felt as though my existence meant accepting others, but never truly feeling accepted myself. This is beyond love, this is my life. Neither of my parents know I identify as trans, and my sexuality is tolerated and at best accepted with side eyes. It’s no wonder I could never find love; people have never really had the chance to find me. I started to feel like I was cursed, every relationship would end the same. I never felt like I could be me, and even when I tried to be what I thought they wanted I still wasn’t enough. My last relationship and rebound taught me a lot about love, in fact, I think they’ve changed my life in ways they’ll never really realize. To protect their identities I’ll be using fake names for both of them.

I met John in Social Work school, we had a class together. I had such a crush on him, but I was always so scared to talk to him (or any crush for that matter). A year later I rounded up the courage to add him on Facebook, shortly after he followed me on Instagram. He messaged me first, we talked, flirted, he asked me out. I think originally I was starting to be me, but then I was under the impression that I was supposed to change to make him feel comfortable. Eventually, change became too much, there was no appeasing him, no compromise. After that relationship, I was left with a shell of myself, and that’s how I met Henry. He was awesome, the exact idea of what a stereotypical man is. I wasn’t really ready to date, after John I was recovering from feeling so abused. But, I figured why not? Everyone else thought he was great. I believe there were red flags with Henry, he in ways showed early signs of being possessive. I ignored it though. He never really had time to dedicate to me, but I ignored it because I was just happy to have someone there. Then he ghosted me.

At this point I was convinced I was cursed, every single guy I dated just left me. I consulted my friends, and even a psychic because I just felt so fixated on Henry leaving. I wanted to know what went wrong, what I could have done. I was so obsessed with believing I was the problem that I was completely blinded to the fact that anyone that just disappears isn’t someone we should aspire to be with anyway. Over time I started getting closer to a solution for my anguish. I started to accept that neither guy was as perfect as I wanted to believe they were. I started to accept that it wasn’t my job t make someone love me or to make them stay. I started to accept that it’s not my job to do all the emotional labor. Now I am accepting the fact that none of the individuals I was with were ever able to truly love me.

In order for us to be loved we must love ourselves; but how? I cast a spell on my mirror, lining it with positive affirmations, and intended it to show me how beautiful I am. I went vegan to lose weight, and I dropped 16lbs. I also decided after Henry that my body wasn’t ready to let someone in again, and committed to celibacy until my next serious relationship. All things I figured would scare the heck out of any guy I dated, but it didn’t. In fact, it just weeded out all the people who weren’t looking for the same thing as me. I started to connect with people who respected me more, I started seeing people for who they really were. I stopped looking for love in every connection, and I’ve become content with saying “no” to people who aren’t really a match for me.

When we try so hard to be something we aren’t, we hold onto everything we don’t actually need. I was always scared that if I existed in my truth that I would be impossible to love, which is why I stayed with John for so long. He was the human manifestation of all my self-doubt. So when he told me I was “stupid” or “good look finding someone that’ll deal with you” I considered it truth, not abuse. But the moment I accepted me, in all my weirdness, I’ve been able to truly see how magnificent I am. The point of this is, we are all deserving and worthy of love. We become entitled to respect the minute we are born. We should be able to exist in our truth, from day one. But, I think for some of us we are constantly told that we belong in the closet. So much so that even when we are in places where it’s safe to just be, we become the voice that tells us that we are worth hiding.

I haven’t found external love yet, but what I have found is something I’ll never allow someone to take from me again. Radical self-acceptance is a game changer, and once we are able to achieve it’ll shift the very paradigm that we are used to existing in. We all want someone to love us, so let’s do ourselves a favor and let that right person love all of us.

How Women are Conditioned to be Raped

“No means no.”

I’ve spent my entire life struggling to stand up for myself. I’ve always been sensitive, and thoughtful towards people’s opinions and feelings. To some extent I think I care a little too much about what others think; I’m too thoughtful towards people who don’t matter. I backbend to appease strangers, and second guess the way I word messages to people who probably won’t remember them. I think I grew up to become a “People Pleaser.” Not a “Yes man,” I’m not scared of having opinions, but I care too much about how those opinions impact people.  So much so that I compromise myself so others won’t feel bad.

I don’t consider this a noble thing, in fact in ways I think it can be more cowardly than anything. Ghosting slowly after first dates, replying to messages, entertaining hope even though I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. Which leads me to my second problem, I think I’ve internalized that I may not know what’s best for me. I have issues trusting my own intuition, even though it’s right more often than not. I end up dating the worst people, and being in the worst situations because I assume the little voice in my head is just me being “too sensitive.” 

I won’t blame everything on race and gender, I think it’s important to take the onus of our personality traits (or at least try to). At 11-years-old I recall being in Winn-Dixie with my mother. My little black hands grasped on to the cool metal of the grocery store cart. I don’t remember what my mother was talking about exactly, not that it probably mattered. What I do remember was the feeling I had when she mentioned “White people.” I felt like all ears and eyes would be on us if she said it any louder, I was fearful of the conflict that could occur if someone was offended. At 11-years-old I was trying to preserve the comfort of all the White faces in the store that day, as well as feeling a strong desire to ensure my mother’s safety.

As the years passed I grew to understand my mother’s frustration, and would eventually inherit it with age. Isn’t it funny what we inherit? Frustration, rage, sadness. I have Brown skin, I assume my ancestors were forced to appease White people. Forced to whisper words about them, forced to wear masks so as to see another day. I won’t pretend to know exactly what that feels like, I’m oppressed but not the same type of oppressed as they were. The oppression I face is more social suicide, meets “accidental murder.” If I lash out, talk too loud, and my lips fall short of a smile, I’ll receive a label.

“Mad Black Woman,” because any woman with a working mouth must be mad. “Overly sensitive and over-analytical,” because my existence takes too long to digest. I think became a people pleaser for a lot of reasons, survival being one of the top ones. Women who scream too loud get silenced, and Black folks get killed. It’s the worst type of humbling, the type that pushes you into a “sunken place.” The type of Sunken place Black men don’t write about, because they aren’t in it. The type of sunken place that our momma warn us about “don’t be wearing that, you’ll attract the wrong type of attention.” The type of sunken place that we don’t talk about, that we can’t talk about.

I think if I were a Cis Straight White Man I would speak a lot louder, express my opinions even if they were unasked for. Spread my legs on the subway, and drive fast on the freeway. But I’m not, I’m not a Cis-Het White Man, I’m a Trans-Pan-Black Woman (gender fluid). I know nothing other than my black face, and thick lips. I am still teaching myself to say “No,” at risk of being deemed a “Mad Black Woman.” If only I were that privileged. This piece isn’t a call to action, I have no intention of stirring up a protest. This piece has no answers because the question itself is difficult to comprehend. This piece does challenge you all to really consider what sunken place you may live in, maybe your sunken place is about poverty, or physical ability, or even sexuality. Think about how often you’ve reached into the air to grasp onto words that fell on deaf ears; think about how you would describe the color and the taste of an orange to someone who’s never seen one. They might think you mad, wouldn’t they?

I think a lot of America’s problem with social issues (Race, gender, sexuality, etc) isn’t that we aren’t talking about it (in most cases), but that we aren’t understanding it. We don’t challenge ourselves to go out of our own world. We are too fixated on things that bother us, and we refuse to have empathy for other people. To actually touch on the title of this piece, I believe that the very moment that I was born as a woman I have been expected to be comfortable with my sunken place. Older men would stare at my undeveloped body, drunken men would figure they could take a grab if they wanted to. If I spoke up, I’d be a prude. My first boyfriend told me he felt like it’s a wife’s duty to make sure her husband is sexually satisfied, my grandmother taught me I need to make sure I look good for my man. When I am with men, I am expected to be the referee. “Stop, no, I said no, fuck man I said no!” Are words I’m never bold enough to express because when I am with men I’m expected to also be “polite.” Bitch is such an ugly word, and my grandma made me feel like I as a woman am supposed to be pretty. Bitch is such an ugly word, and what would if I scream too loud? What happens when a woman screams too loud, or a black person, or a Black woman even?

To be fair, on the flip side I feel like young men are conditioned to be rapists. Not only by society but because of individual interactions as well. “What the fuck? You don’t want to fuck me? You must be gay.” I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a man, that’s just not how I identify. But I have observed the irony in unpacking rape culture. I have observed in theory we encourage quotes like “No means No” and “Ask first.” But what happens when someone does want to ask about everything, are they then considered un-sexy? What of the men who find no particular interest in being sexual aggressors, are they then deemed submissive and undesirable? As a little girl, I recall being fed this idea that the man I want would be like Beast from Beauty and the Beast. That I was supposed to deal with all the horrible ways he presented himself, and it was my job to teach him how to treat me. I think we are all bounded by expectations, by roles we are told we are supposed to fulfill. I don’t think this is an issue with men or women, I think this is an issue with society. How do we deviate from society if we are still holding onto our tribalistic nature? As individuals, I think the answer is going out of our comfort zone. But as a society, maybe the answer can reveal itself with a little more understanding.

The 6 Things I Did Wrong in Dating

You meet someone, and they have you caught up in shock cause they are just “fione.” They smell good, they feel good, and they make you feel good. The first date has you feeling intoxicated, the sex leaves you having flashbacks at your day job. Everything seems like it’s going great, you’re on cloud nine. Flash forward, and you’re sobbing into your pillow wondering how the hell you got here. What did you miss? How do you go from feeling so amazed by a person to absolutely crushed by the reality of who they are? I’ve had this scenario play out far too many times than I’m proud to admit. As I transform in the Woman I want to be I think it’s important to grow from your mistakes, so here are the 6 things I did wrong in Dating:

  • I dated people who liked me, not valued me

I think it’s easy to get caught up. To be infatuated by how easy it is to laugh with someone, and how magical it feels to fit into the small parts of their bodies. It’s so easy to feel like when someone likes you, and if you like them back then that’s special. But the feeling of liking and being liked is so fleeting. It’s sorta like music, sometimes we are ALL about “I Like it” by Cardi B, but then BAM, “Chun-Li” by Nicki Minaj comes on. It’s very possible that songs (and people) will always have a special place in our heart, but the songs (and people) we hold onto are the ones we truly value. Michael Jackson’s “Remember the Time” and Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” will always be classics. When you date someone I’ve learned you should keep dating them, don’t commit, at least not until you’re a classic in their book.

  • I was way too passive

I can definitely recall a significant amount of times when I’ve had sex with people when I didn’t really feel into it (completely consensual), and I agreed to committment when in the back of my head I was not ready. I think I chose more of a back seat role because I lacked faith in my ability to be right. I’d trust everyone else’s intuition instead of trusting my own. I think in a lot of relationships I compromise my beliefs and values because they deviate from the norm. I think I know exactly what I want in a person, good looking, funny, respectful, a thoughtful, and opened minded person. I wanted someone who was experimental in the bedroom, someone who was open to trying things like polyamory. Someone who got me. I think I passively accepted that my ideas and wants were “out there,” so instead of staying true to myself I fit into the box that others wanted me to fit into.

  • I didn’t believe people when they told me who they were

When I was younger someone once told me “Boys will tell you EXACTLY how they will hurt you before they hurt you, you just have to listen for it.” I can definitely say that most guys I’ve dated have probably alluded to being called “assholes” or hinted to having issues they were trying to get over. I think when you like someone it’s REALLY easy to take passive hints, put them in a suitcase in the back of your mind, and never revisit them until AFTER you get hurt. But follow me for a second, after a relationship we all kinda have an idea of where we went wrong. After being in numerous relationships we have an idea of our pattern/toxic behaviors. Maybe out of guilt some people will drop passive hints to suggest what they’ll end up doing to you, but I think it’s very important to pay close attention to how people describe their past behaviors in relationships (not just romantic).

  • I believed that their exes were “crazy”

Look Y’all, I do believe that some people really do be doing the ABSOLUTE most. That being said, you have to ask yourself two important questions: Why is this person crazy and Why did they date this crazy person? We all seek out people for a reason, and sometimes it isn’t because we ourselves are abusive (but sometimes it is). What my ex’s ex taught me was, people who have issues with themselves may go after people who make them feel better about themselves. Examples can be if someone feels like they are scared of being left they may seek out people who they feel like have abandonment issues. If a person has issues validating themselves they may seek out the person who tells them all the right things. But just because those people sought out individuals to fill their needs doesn’t mean they have any intention to fulfill the needs of the other person. In extreme situations, the person won’t just be selfish, but they could become manipulative and take their insecurities and fears out on you.

  • I normalized red flags

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t see it coming.” Ok sis, but like, really? Maybe it’s just me but I have issues trusting my intuition. I’ve definitely heard some OFF the wall shit, and then I normalized it. “If you cheat on me I’ll kill you” is an OBVIOUS red flag that I’m ashamed to admit I normalized. The amount of times I’ve had a man say that to me is bothersome, not because I believed they’d do it, but because that red flag means that they don’t value me. First off, why would someone assume without reason that I would cheat (projection much?). Secondly, why would someone think that they are entitled to end my life because I hurt their feelings?  A less extreme example is someone who doesn’t like any of my friends. Please feel free to argue me on this, but I feel like my friends are my friends for a reason. If someone dislikes all of my friends either I seriously have issues, and/or they don’t actually like me. Moral of the story, trust your gut.

  • I saw myself as regular

I spent my entire life internalizing the expression “you have to work twice as hard as them to get half of what they got, and if you’re a Black woman you gotta work even harder.” Whenever I would have high achievements they were always brushed off as things that I was SUPPOSED to do. Perhaps I just wanted to be humble, but I really ended up under-valuing myself. I am an intelligent Black Women, with two degrees, a great career, and I’m a cutie to boot. No these things do not define me, but they tell a story of a woman who has defied odds to make her dreams come true. I am not “regular.” I actively try to go above and beyond to better my mind, body, and spirit. Yes, a person may choose to date me, but not because I am “lucky.” No, I walked through the door worthy and deserving of respect and quality. I do believe so long as you exist, regardless of your level of privilege or background, that you are deserving of kindness and respect.

 

Now I have A LOT more to learn, and maybe I have a few more frogs to kiss (ew). But I hope that this list of some of the mistakes I made during dating helps Y’all. I’d love to hear back from you all, so please leave a comment letting me know what you’ve learned from dating/relationships!