What Happened to my Beautiful Black Women?

"I realized that, for me at least, if I can't find true Love, then my assessment on tha value of life in this society decreases tremendously. My self-esteem is shattered. Sadness morphs to anger. Gratitude turns bitter. And I subsequently become a warrior with a cause." @MistahWilson

I remember I was in preschool. Sundown Elementary in Lancaster, California. It was one of my first experiences being in a co-ed environment aside from being at home with my mom and sister. One day, they let us out to play. Even back then I can remember they let us out to play seemingly a little earlier than usual. I ran to tha swings, urgently trying to get the best one. You know, any of tha ones that weren't in tha middle.

I must have been 4/5 years old. One of the little girls from tha class next door had ran to tha swings, too. Right after I got to tha swings, she came up and I remember thinking how beautiful her parents made her bangs. In retrospect, that was one of my first moments of my early life being intrigued by tha opposite sex. Soon enough, my teacher called me back inside and said that tha class next door gets recess before us. I didn't know it yet, but even back then they were always pulling me apart from any interaction with my potential soulmate.

At this time in my infant life, I was raised by a senior Black woman (foster parent). Coincidentally, we had tha same last name but I went years believing she was my biological mother. My (foster) sister was Black, too and these two women have always been tha most special people to me. Before I knew it, I was always attracted to Black women. Even though I am mixed with who knows what, I always identified with being Black. And it goes beyond me as tha world was already spinning before I was born.

The Black woman who raised me, I won't say her name. I'd like to take this opportunity to be unbiased on my impression of Black women. You must remember, I don't believe whatever I want to believe, but what I am led to believe. Now, she only raised me from around birth to about 8 years old. And in that time, she use to always talk about how much she missed her husband. She was very patient and loving with me. She taught me to say please and thank you, not to point fingers or stare at strangers. To cover my mouth when I sneeze. She use to call me up to her room because she was lonely and bored watching television by herself. She never tolerated tha slightest of vulgarity. This is a Black woman I am speaking of.

In 2011, she passed away due to complications of dementia and has since been one of tha most traumatic things that have happened to me. I was 21 years old when she died. And since then, I cannot find her virtue in any Black women in my community. Everywhere I go, she's always walking...away from me. Going somewhere I am not. Today, my Black woman's focus has been shifted to independence. Welfare and tha deep state have taken tha place of tha Black Man in tha household. And today, Black Men are displaced. He can barely keep his hair braided. Warm, home made meals are now just a figure of his imagination. His children, don't even belong to him anymore. His children are bonds. Bonds leveraged by his vindictive Black woman working as an agent of evil to weaken tha warriors of her own race. All in tha name of...not taking your own trash out?

Every compromise we've made against our future generations has opened windows to evils we have no idea of today. All this honor given to tha "ancestors" for sacrificing their future (us) for their right now. A time long gone. By our ancestors worshipping false gods back then, they have cursed their own children! They have given them over to slavery before they are ever born! They have given over generations of their children to tha subjection of their own oppressors. Out of fear of their own lives, being unwilling and coward to die for tha sanctification of their tribe. And so, what do you get today? You get people like me. Who grow up and cannot ignore tha offenses made against their life by their own people. And I get told I'm crazy? I get told no one owes me anything?

Motivation for this article came after I recently realized something. After having taken so many losses in my life. After coming to tha knowledge of tha Truth, which can be hard to handle. I realized that, for me at least, if I can't find and have true Love in this life, then my assessment on tha value of life (in this society) decreases tremendously. My self-esteem is shattered. Sadness morphs to anger. Gratitude turns bitter. And I subsequently become a warrior with a cause. An enemy of tha state, not because I awoke having a problem with you, but because you have designed a system to systemically take my life...for profit. And my beautiful Black woman, has been in on it all this time.

I'm not saying this to bash my beautiful Black woman. For she is tha prize of life! She is...tha most beautiful. Not to sound prejudice, but in my humble opinion, it ALL comes back down to tha Black woman! But in today's society, we can't even guage, as a community or a race, tha level of detriment done to us. We can't even tell just how far we've been mislead off tha narrow path. This country indoctrinates our children as parents passively give them over to lies and deception. I understand that as people, we just wanna live, man. But, american philosophy has tainted our roots. And my beautiful Black woman not only refuses Love, but takes action to prove her stance.

At age 31, my heart has become severely troubled. I'm proud to say that I've never been in a relationship I didn't want to be in. And when my beautiful Black woman cheats on me, tha world blames me for picking such women when, in my opinion, my women shouldn't be in this condition to begin with! Why is it even acceptable for my beautiful Black women to hoe around? To split her special with strangers while tha Good Man misses out completely. She has been raised to sell her gifts to people it does not belong to! I mean, after all, is that not tha name of tha game in America? To acquire wealth by way of theft and murder?

I cruise down tha blade in my car and see my queens skimped out in tha Summer heat. Even skimpier in tha Winter. As I look at her, all I wish I could do is Love her. I just want to Love her! But, in tha name of money, she refuses me. In tha name of "having options", she never commits to one. And so, no one Man benefits in full. Even she, will never blossom into tha Godly wife she was designed to be. This is what it means when they say you can't have your cake AND eat it, too. I always felt like that was a slave owner's philosophy. I wholeheartedly reject it.

I won't go down tha line of every beautiful Black woman that has taken a strike at my Heart. I wish they would go after true value and real virtue! In theory, tha beautiful Black woman is all I'd ever need. I already have my sense of direction in life. I have good judgement. But, if I can't find Love from tha one who brought me in this world, then what is even worth fighting for? Why fight to live in such a world? A world where you're up against tha world AND your own family? Every Black Man I know today with kids by a beautiful Black woman are being given a difficult time seeing their kids. The beautiful Black woman makes nothing easy for tha Black Man. And america has trained her to compete with him for survival, instead of working together to build and establish a strong family unit.

I'm Black, but I'm mixed with something. Even so, seeing a beautiful Black woman with a White Man is uncomfortable. I didn't say unacceptable, but uncomfortable. If the White Man is a symbol of privilege in tha world then seeing my beautiful Black woman with him is a sign that she has sold out! To tha women who say they are simply attracted to White Men can stay their ass here in America. They won't be coming back with us to tha Motherland.

As I've aged, I've come to realize that tha Truth behind my story is what is being hidden in this society. Nobody wants to talk about displaced, damaged little boys because that puts pressure back on women who've been accustomed to taking and living off tha seeds of their male counterparts. Meanwhile, tha father's suffer and tha kids are never told tha Truth. If tha kid is sharp enough, he or she will piece it together for themselves and then become subject to brokenness due to tha parent's lack of accountability. Tha kid will have to live with this. And this is why it is so important for our beautiful Black women to Love our Black Men and THEIR children unconditionally! It's shameful that Black Men can't even structure their own households. It's pitiful that most women in tha community have to be loose and ungoverned.

My first girlfriend who cheated on me from prison. I called her dad in frustration and got on his head about his daughter being a hoe lol .. He tried to tell me that even his kids, they make their own decisions. But, when I zoomed out a bit, how do you account for literally all your kids being gang bangers and prostitutes? Learning from uncle sam on how to not be accountable for your own mistakes and offenses.

When I was reunited with my actual biological mom, I didn't know I still had more pain to experience. I thought it was finally all over. But nope. It only just began! No clear story on who my Father is or was. No date of birth and no certainty on what his name is. When I was born, my mom named me after her abusive ex-boyfriend to attempt to hide her affair with a non-black Man. As tha story is told, when my father came to see me and learned that I was named after her abusive ex-boyfriend, he slung a racial slur and my mom insisted he can walk out of my life. So, when I asked my mom why my dad called her that name, she blocked me on facebook because clearly, she committed tha first offense and to this day doesn't want to answer for it. Carrying me in tha womb for 9 months cannot justify a lifetime of hurt. And if you would have just had Love in your home for me, then perhaps my daddy issues wouldn't even be brought up. But, since there is no Love for me in her heart, it only brings into hyper focus who my dad is and where he might be. And why I can't know this falls on tha actions of my mother.

I still think about my ex-girlfriends. I still wish we were together. I can bag em, but to keep them relies on their own set of values and principles. Why do I have to act insecure because my beautiful Black women RATHER crack out of order? Because she gets bored she engulfs herself in sin. Ignoring tha responsibility endowed unto her womanhood.

But, to be real. Things being as they are, I can blame myself for not keeping God as tha cornerstone of my relationships. In this way, I have brought heartbreak upon myself. I had to feel it for myself in order to learn. It's a bittersweet pain. My genuineness reminds me of tha good, short times we had. And to look back on my young life and see how nobody ever loved me, to look back to see how my birthrights were stolen prior to my arrival, awakens something in me so hostile that even fear itself is driven out!

I hope and pray. One day. My beautiful Black woman finds me. And stays.

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