Black Women – Devil’s Advocate: You Gotta Chase a White Man

It’s September, and it’s Devil’s Advocate* month. Let’s have some fun, shall we? :D

You’ve been dateless, man-free, and frustratingly single this entire summer, month, year, decade, or century.

All these BWE / BW-IR blogs are starting to work your last nerve. Why?

You are getting so effing tired of hearing all these damn rules of what YOU gotta do to get you some swirl action.

You are getting so tired of these relentlessly cheerful, unnaturally happy, skinny ass, absolutely perfect, nauseatingly special black women who find it sooooo dayumn easy to get hold of a (white) man. It’s like some of these chicks rolled out of bed, opened the front door, and there stood Mr. Prince Charming with a dozen red roses in one hand and a 14kt diamond engagement ring in the other. It’s gotta be maddening to find out that he looks like Bradley Cooper or Jonathan Rhys Meyers with Ryan Reynolds’s deliciously hot body.

It’s been a long, long, dry (really dry and you’re thirsty ’bout now), hot summer, and you didn’t get yours.

The “solutions” that keep coming are fast and furious, yet they’re not only contradictory, they seem annoyingly unrealistic and unreachable. You wanna hear some “keepin’ it real” advice from one black woman to another. Not stuff you could easily read in any white woman’s magazine or The Rules book.

Everywhere you go – you keep asking the same question: Where are all these wonderful white men these chicks keep finding? ‘Cause no one’s really looked your way since your hairdresser “accidentally” dyed your hair baboon-ass red, and promised the color would fade in a week.

As the Devil’s Advocate, I’m here to confirm your worst fears: finding a man will be hardest task you’ve ever undertaken. The truth of the matter is: these white guys really aren’t checking for YOU. Of course, it’s easy for all these other ladies. But for you? Pshaw. You will have to roll up your sleeves and get to work.

I know the excuses. So let’s throw them under the bus:

  • you’re not heading to Europe for a man.
  • you have no intention of traveling for luv.
  • you’re not losing 10-50+ plus pounds just to get a man. they gotta love you as you are.
  • you’re not joining any clubs that are dominated by men.
  • you’re uniquely quirky (weird) with a strange sense of humor. guys don’t dig you.
  • you don’t want to hear any mess about your hair. ever again.
  • you ain’t planning on grinning and skinning all day for no man. he’s gotta understand you have moods.
  • you’re not buying any new clothes. funk that. you love lumberjack flannel shirts.
  • you know the truth that no one else will ever admit: most, if not all, white men just don’t like black women!!!!

Sorry. You’re gonna have to make changes, but let’s ease into it.

Let me roll out some things here that you might want to think about, but don’t over think about.

  • How often and how long do you make eye contact with an attractive (in your eyes) man? Long, short, blink and gone?
  • Do you smile and say hello first? If he doesn’t respond, do you think you weren’t loud enough or that the dude probably hates black women and you swear you’ll never to do it again?
  • Do you believe men know what you’re thinking?
  • Do you assume you know what men are thinking when they look at you? Are your thoughts negative, neutral, or positive?
  • Are you able to have a conversation without uttering one negative word or thought? That one might not be easy.
  • How’s your body language? Closed or open? Arms folded a lot? Do you lean towards the person or away?
  • Do you shy away or hide from men? It’s possible you’re doing it subconsciously.
  • Ever went to a party / gathering and decided to touch every guy when crossing the room? You know, just a light caress down the arm. If you’re feeling bold, turn your head, smile, and look ‘em up and down… Practice makes perfect.
  • Online dating is hit and miss: stop joining sites where 98.23% of the white guys will date anybody, even other men, but a black woman. Seek out the interracial sites, the men are half-way there and willing. That makes sense, right?
  • Relax. Relax. Relax. Flirt. Flirt. Flirt.
  • Get in the habit of making friends with white men. Friends. Friends. Friends. With no benefits. Keep it platonic.

I have more bad news for you.

There is no magical interracial swirl fairy. You’re gonna have to get a man the old-fashioned way: chase him down and collar him. To chase a man means being coy, witty, friendly, feminine, and slightly seductive. That takes practice.

Have fun.

*According to Wikipedia, Devil’s Advocate is:

In common parlance, a devil’s advocate is someone who, given a certain argument, takes a position he or she does not necessarily agree with, just for the sake of argument. In taking such position, the individual taking on the devil’s advocate role seeks to engage others in an argumentative discussion process. The purpose of such process is typically to test the quality of the original argument and identify weaknesses in its structure, and to use such information to either improve or abandon the original, opposing position.
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Rant: What I Dislike About Being a Black Woman Sometimes

Oh, I like being a woman who’s also “black”, just fine, it’s people getting on my nerves that ruins it.

You are damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

People like making up these “what a black woman shouldn’t do” rules, because they are emotional bullies, hypocrites, and misogynists.

If you work for your money, you are a bank. If you are broke, you are persona non grata.

If you express joy and satisfaction in making money, men call you mercenary. If you show little interest in money people become incredulous, because you’re supposed to be stressing over it. I recognize my limitations with fiscal sophistication. I manage as best I can. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I lose. Yet I don’t become smug or condescending because of it.

If you are single, people think your time isn’t worth anything. They assume it can be harnessed for the benefit of the married, or not married, with children, and the selfish. I cannot stand “bring your brats to work” day at the job. The parents think only the singles should work. I take the day off if they plan on being that disruptive.

Your achievements make people envious, upset, and testy. If I’m not taking from you, why worry about my business? Folks like to think that every black woman is at the bottom, and it upsets them if we are doing better than them.

Your setbacks make their day. Oh, they practice schadenfreude like a religion.

Men assume you will play Big Momma to them, because you get up every morning and work. What else am I supposed to do? Sit at home? Will you pay the bills, sir? Should I yearn to earn less than the average man at the same job?

Years ago, I had a guy tell me he likes me, because I work for “good money” and his future ex-girlfriend did not. He said she worked with the expectation of being an at-home mother. So, I’m supposed to be complimented with the assumption that I wouldn’t want to stay home and raise my kids too? WTF? This was coming from a white dude (ex-gf being white) who grew up among wolves … oh, sorry, black guys.

If you do not have children men will say, “I’m sorry.” I’ve never expressed regret that I do not have any. So, why am I supposed to be sorry? Not every woman who has a uterus has to use it. There is more to us than childbearing.

Some men assume that black women are so manly that we can all lift heavy weights, work out strenuously, and perform heavy-duty tasks like men. Back the hell up with that nonsense. I tell ’em straight, “I’m not a man. I’m delicate.” I get cold easily. I cannot lift heavy weights. The only place I’m running is on a treadmill. I don’t do anything to injure myself.

If you own property, a fellow will ask you why you bought it, as if I have the nerve to live in a house without his permission.

If you drive a nice car, jerks will ask you who bought it for you. This can go either way, if I bought it myself, I’m showing off, if a guy bought it for me… Oh well, let’s not go there.

Leave me alone about how I wear my hair. Seriously. Some people are looking to get the crap knocked out of them.

I don’t require anyone’s permission to do anything. I just go ahead and do.

Hey, black guys! If we accidentally make eye contact, that doesn’t mean I’m interested! If you are with a white woman: Leave me alone. What is with you guys? You’ve got your prize, no one cares, especially not me. I cannot tell you the number of times some negro acts up whenever he’s got a white chick by his side. I don’t even notice these fools until they say something, or they stare so long I can feel it.

Regardless of what some fellows think, just because I am a black woman, don’t even try and tell what I can or cannot do. I’ve heard enough from the “you-just-can’t” losers all of my life, and it didn’t, and it doesn’t stop me from having the life I want.

I do, and get, what I want, when I want, and how I want. That’s my motto since Day 1, and it always will be.

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