Understanding

I was listening to a friend today, and she was lamenting about dating. Our conversation ended with a similar debate we would always have, and that is  it whether or not dating gets harder as we age, or is it just hard in general?  As I left her, I thought about how many times she and I had laughed and cried about our dating adventures.  As I pondered those thoughts, it brought me to a place of writing, and as I thought more and more, I reasoned that around many a water cooler, no matter age, sexual preference or gender - there is a similar conversation going on; Why is it so hard to wade through the pool of fish in order to simply find the one?

As a black woman, I can only reflect things as I see them through my own lens of experience. And while I will agree that this is a difficult struggle, I try not to allow the opinions of others, or the things I read or hear on television pollute and wage war on what I feel. I choose to believe that there is love out there for both me and you! And no matter how bloody the battle is in those rough waters, I also choose to get right back out there after each battle, because I feel that each one brings me closer to being with "him".

I refuse to believe the stats that say that the dating pool is bleaker for black women, just as I refuse to adhere to the constant barrage of negative stereotypes about being a black woman. I am an intelligent, hardworking, hopeful, poised, pleasant, no where near angry, strong, fearless, faith believing... beautiful black woman. I don't apologize or shrink from who I am, yet sometimes I feel like there's something flawed in being who I am. If I believe all that I read and hear, it's somehow my fault for all that is lacking in love because I am a black woman. The plight of black love is laid at the feet of black women. Hmmmm...I find that interesting because isn't love a two way street? I feel less that it's a black thing, and more of a universal problem. I have friends of all ages and hues, and we all share similar stories. We all struggle. That would make this more a universal problem wouldn't it? The description of me applies to any woman. I didn't have to add that I'm black. That's a given when you see me. The color of my skin doesn't reveal what my heart feels. The heartbeat of love is a universal language. It has to be in order to allow people of different races to come together. Love is color blind. My struggles with dating and such are universal. There isn't anything that I feel, nothing in the tears that I shed that are not felt by other men and women. I know I am not alone. And I know this has less to do with the fact that I am a black woman.   

So what does it all boil down to? As I listened to my friend today, what resonated with me was one simple word; Understanding. When I observe and talk to couples, the thing that hits home for me is their understanding of one another. Perhaps a better choice of word is tolerance. What are you willing to tolerate or understand from another person?

I am willing to be who I am...I am willing to cross the span of time, distance and whatever other great divide that is out there between myself and the love of a man...I am willing to bring my patience and understanding to the table. And for that, all I ask is that he be willing to do the same. The hard part of all of this is remaining hopeful throughout. It is difficult at times, and even discouraging. Yet, I know that nothing worth having is obtained without effort. In the meantime, my job is to allow my life to be full and complete as is - while keeping myself open to possibilities. That's a fine line to follow...appearing comfortable being with just me, and being open to someone. But it's possible.


Here I sit
Listening to a friend lament
And cry about a guy
And what he isn't
He isn't a man of his word
He isn't a man committed to her
He just - isn't that guy
He just isn't - it
But I can't say that
I have to listen
And allow her to say it
Allow her to realize it
Because the choice is hers and not mine
I see the truth
But that's in my eyes
She has to see this for herself
She has to see it
People tell us who they are
Tell the truth about what, who and when
But we do something different with the data
We filter it and fill in the blanks with other stuff
We hold on and on and on
We take his or her shit
But it's just that
Shit
And sometimes, it's not for us to hold
Sometimes he just isn't - it
There's nothing to be angry about
We all have it
We all have some shit
It's just a matter of understanding
How much of you is relevant
And how much of you isn't
And oh the same goes for me
How much of what I bring to you
How much are you willing to deal with
How much can be filtered out
How much is irrelevant
So we continue to circle the waters
Seeking out just the right one
Filtering out all the others
Seeking just the right one
Sometimes the waters are murky
Sometimes the waters are rough
Sometimes the waters are calm
There are all kinds of fish out there
All kinds of fish to see
You just have to find one
The one that is relevant
The one that can deal with your shit
The one that is - an is
Not the one that is -  an isn't
In the meantime
Swim
Enjoy the waters
Be a beautiful fish
Find your own relevance