A Rant on the State of a Black Relationship in 2016

I’m so frustrated with the state of unmarried black men currently in their 30s. They are such a selfish generation- most having no upstanding father figures to learn from while they grew up and this created the rate of single women being probably triple what it should be because many black women would rather ‘do all bad by herself.’ I’m in a relationship barely a year old and I’m trying so hard not to instinctually run and become a stereotype anding one more member to the ‘lonely bitter bitch club’ because it’s SAD. [Even those that throw themselves in the church and make going to service their life partner is equally sad because they have completely given up on making a human connection.] And if these members are mothers, it’s even sadder because that bitterness seeps into their kids through her frustrations and sadness. Even if this type of woman makes up her mind to put her happiness first, as she should for the sake of her children, it creates a situation of a broken home because so few people know how to successfully co-parent and create two loving households for their children after deciding to live apart.

So i’m trying. Mainly because there are way too many assholes procreating and creating future assholes so I want to contribute great people to this world to help balance things out. I put the work in, forgave him for all the other before we were ‘official’ chicks (most of whom are another sad product of the drought), dealt with him not being mentally ready to be faithful, and him thinking honesty was a privilege he could give out when he wanted to. I stuck it out until he was willing to see my worth as a life partner because I knew what I was up against. How can he be expected to know how to treat a diamond in the ruff if he never saw anyone properly handle a diamond?

So I look past the everyday things (like falling off on the good morning texts even on his days off or waiting a week for me to do a sink full of dishes at his place when I only used one thing a week prior), and I try to be forgiving and understanding but I’m losing the battle with fending off resentment. I don’t want to lead when I’m with my man — that’s HIS HONOR. I bust my butt running things in my 9 to 5 and when I come home to him I want to lay my armor down and be bathed in love. I want my soul revived and not always have to be the only one doing the reviving and I want my love tank refilled from a draining day.

In our free time I don’t want to make the plans all the time otherwise he doesn’t have the forethought to make plans for us. I dont want to come second to what he has come to accept, like many have decades before and after us, as happiness and a ‘good time’ only being found at the bottom of a bottle or shot glass. The turnup is real alright, real ugly. I don’t want to accept how in his mind everything is solved with an ‘i love you, i really do love you’ statement after he’s done something selfish but wants me to overlook. I don’t want to have to keep accepting the bare minimum because his parents and his friends’ parents didn’t teach them that they are kings and they have no clue how to treat their queens. It’s saddening that their crappy relationships are all he has to compare our relationship to. I’m all for playing my part and communicating my needs to help with the ‘healthy relationship learning curve’ for our black men but when is enough? When am I allowed to say I did my best and he just couldn’t make it work without my female peers saying “there’s a drought you know, you have to be a little flexible”?