Separate But Unequal: The Quandary of Black Women & Marriage

♥ Hell Hath No Fury…♥

“This is what marriage really means: helping one another to reach the full status of being persons, responsible beings who do not run away from life”

— Paul Tournier

DETROIT — I Love Black Women. Period. My Mom is a Black Woman. I Love Her. There is something about an intelligent, well-spoken, well-versed, hard working, confident, Nubian Goddess. From her walk, to her attitude, to her ability to understand me, there is nothing more impressive than a Black Woman. Now that we’ve established this, I feel that, as a black man, I can chip in my two cents to why her ass is as single as a $1 bill in my wallet. Lately it has become apparently en vogue, and I don’t mean the R&B group, for there to be all these reports and statistics on why the black woman (more specifically, the “successful” black woman) can’t seem to find a man to marry her. While I’m not some sympathizer like Michael Baisden who will do anything to get women to listen to him, nor am I a self-proclaimed relationship expert like Steve Harvey, this blog is not exactly meant to be a scientific meta-analysis of the plight of our Nubian sisters. I’m not gonna get into the conflated and often overused mantras about black men being the problem (BTW: Essence Magazine’s assessments about black men are, on the low end, 95% F.O.S.). I am gonna shoot straight on what I feel is the problem just from my experience as being a black man having dealt with black women since birth. If you don’t like it, then create your own damn site and do something about it! Let’s Go.