Okay. So, I am 30 years old by this point. I am married to, but divorcing, a light-skinned black man, with whom I have had two beautiful, gorgeous (swirl) boys with. At this time, they are 5 and 3 years old. Why my marriage didn’t work had nothing to do with the swirl. So, I will not be getting into those details. That’s not just another post but another BLOG all in and of itself! Keep in mind, my mother has told me that no white man will want to raise little black boys. I do not agree, but I am not even necessarily thinking about that yet.
I do feel bad, though. I do not want to keep my boys from their father; I do not want to have my boys be just another addition to alarming statistics (69% of African American children are born to single mothers); I do not want my boys (even more significantly) to not know who they are, hate me or themselves…
Anyway. I am leaving. And now the future becomes unknown. Will I ever have a two-parent household again? Who will be my next (if I have one) significant other? Of what race will he be? Does it matter?
The bottom line is: You cannot change who you fall in love with. Well, I cannot help who I fall in love with. Other people may make decisions about matters of the heart with their minds. I envy those people. Those are the people that marry “well,” right? Marry for status, position, money. Upwardly mobile. I am not that person. Could never be. I live in fairy tales and in romantic whims. God, that must make me hard to live with. But that is a side note. I’m thinking out loud.
Part of who you fall in love with has to do with to whom you are attracted. There is the guy that I am attracted to in words…the guy from tv, the movies, the media. I dig LL Cool J. Jesse L. Martin. Terrance Howard. So, what does that mean? Black, bald, thoughtful, teddy bear, thinker, intelligent? My XH was the teddy bear (I guess). Now I wanted to choose someone with more of what I thought I wanted. A thinker…YES. Thoughtful…YES. Sweet, caring, adventurous, sexy…YES, YES, YES, YESSSSSSSSS!!!
Oh. And black and bald, too…
LOL. Leads me to the man I am in love with now.
I suppose he is just about everything I just said I wanted in the next man I would be with…not because I LOOKED for it, but because it HAPPENED. And he is black, and bald, and SOOOOOOOOO SEXY (to me). He made my heart skip a beat when I first saw him. I love everything about him (physically) and JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING about him otherwise (I mean, come on…NO ONE’S perfect!).
When I started telling my mom about my dream guy that I had just met, her response was a question (to which she already knew the answer)… “and he’s BLACK?“
She asked me why I couldn’t just fall in love with a nice Polish guy.
Are you freakin’ kidding me???? You didn’t even fall in love with a Polish guy. Either time. So why should I?
Within a very short amount of time (okay, a month and a half), we were pregnant. My guy stepped up to the plate. BIG TIME. Bought us a house. Planned for the future. We are doing the whole family thing. We found out we were pregnant with twins. Twin boys, at that! So, that makes…his oldest (12 yo), my two (6 and 4) and our twins!!! ALL BOYS!!!
And he is a darker skinned black man. Not that it matters/should matter/does matter. It doesn’t matter to me. His family treats me the same, my boys the same. In fact, they treat my boys as their own. Even if someone asks, who are they (they are noticeably darker than my children)? They answer, Our grandbabies. Whose, they ask? Our son, E’s… Oh, they must take after their mother…YES. And??????
And that is how the world should be.
Who cares, light or dark, mixed or not?
You wouldn’t care tall or short. You wouldn’t care blonde or brunette. You wouldn’t care blue or green or brown…so, why light or dark?
Why black or white?
Especially when there are so MANY beautiful shades of swirl…