In my 39th year on the planet, I got divorced. I am still working through the emotional and mental fallout. Desperately, I am trying to heal. Yet, so many parts of me broke into small shards, the clean up is never ending.
When I am not volunteering, working, freelancing, or fighting Sarcoidosis, I am trying to heal from past traumas.
Lately, I have been going over my failed relationships with a fine tooth comb and having these not so clever epiphanies about the men I tried to connect with in my youth. Honestly, I am ashamed that my self-esteem was so low that I allowed myself to keep “their” company. And when I say “their” I am speaking of the men who were color struck, the men who didn’t value my intellectual prowess, the men who only saw me as an object for sexual gratification. What I find absurdly funny is that the present moment, I wouldn’t sully my loins with them now and I am planted squarely in the most loneliest days of my life.
I am trying to heal, so I can forewarn the young, beautiful, Black American girls in my social community about the real physical, fiscal and mental dangers of having low self-esteem. I want to tell them to always keep your self-esteem up. Never date “down”. Dating beneath your intellectual prowess or social core values is a complete mindf*** and nothing good will ever come of it. I want to tell them to wait for the guy that thinks you’re brilliant, beautiful, talented, and amazing. Wait for the guy that supports your career but is not competing with you.
And I am alone. Yet, I am at peace. I am alone with the weight of my failures and short comings anchoring me down into my nightly depression. I fight internally with the zealous self analysis of the past.
I wish my parents had prepared me better for the lonely life I would lead as an intelligent, dark complexion, confident Black American Woman. And to be honest, my Dad did warn me. He said “… You bring so much to the table. Always bring something to the table, but realize because of how you look and how smart you are many times you will sit at that table alone.”
I sit and I think, well damn “they” never cared. Why was I so naive? Why didn’t I just walk away?
America has deemed me unlovable, unattractive, un-human. Lol. …but f*** society, it is inherently racist, classist and sexist.
At 46, now I just want peace and if it is served with 64oz of loneliness, I will take it. I don’t want to be in another relationship where I don’t feel loved, I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel adored, I feel I am laying next to someone fetishising me or even worse who secretly hates the darkness of my skin. I don’t want to endure the ego, emotional abuse and emotional ineptitude of mediocre men.
More importantly, I don’t want broken men who I never hurt and only want to love, hurting me and refusing to heal from their issues. We all deserve better than the dredges of the gene pool.
We all deserve better.