Me According to…

People are good with honing in on what you’re not that even what you are, who you are is gingerly picked apart; scrutinized. As it is with many cases, people are under the impression that they know me just because I give a smile here or acknowledge their existence. I am often compared to my youngest sister; we work at the same company. She is graceful at everything​, she even looks as if she floating on air when she walks. I am not. Our body structures​ are different, she’s slender where I am more muscular, her complexion is lighter than my darker and she’s definitely book smart where I am more spiritual. We’re both finding our balance with our weaknesses. It comes as no surprise to me that my personality, my being, my character has come under question, suspicion even. Let people tell it be it through silent judgment or under the guise of jokes, there’s an underlying resentment or inability to understand or accept a black woman as she is. A black woman who lives within or stands on the edge of open-mindedness. Somehow, it has become a sin to take interest in other groups of men, namely white men. A co-worker (male) and I were talking on the job about dating and he said I look like the type of sista that only dates white men. Apparently, it’s in the way I carry myself. He tried to dig his way out of it by stating I had high standards which most brothas probably won’t meet. I wish I could say that I was offended, but I hear comments, assumptions like his often, from other black men. Strange enough, I don’t get this type of treatment from other groups of men. I will openly admit, I don’t quite get our culture at times. Do I understand the tension, bloodshed, anger, pain that black folks have been through, still going through? Absolutely. But I choose not to carry this exponential burden of what it is to be black and female. I see and recognize  strings puppetmasters pluck to incite even more descension that breathes among whites and blacks. Police and blacks, blacks against blacks. It’s all so tiring. I’m about helping whomever needs it, regardless of skin color. Sometimes I can’t help my own people because the light of revelation hasn’t been switched on. It’s sad to say, many of us think one way, stagnant. We can be a self defeating lot. The moment I say hey, let’s try something different, I’m accused of acting or thinking white. The upside is being me has gotten easier, it happened while living life and as I’ve gotten older, I care a lot less over what people think of me. Seems I’ll always be too much or not enough in the eyes of the blind and I’m alright with that.

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