I’m A Grown Ass Black Woman But…

The alarm sounds at 8 AM. “Good Morning Beautiful,” he says before he bends me over. I have never been a fan of morning sex, but with him, I look forward to it.

It is 10 AM, and now we are going for our morning walk. We both agreed that we wanted to get back in better health. I am thankful for days like this with him. I’m off, and he’s not out on tour. We spend most of the day on the couch, smoking, drinking beer and wine, watching silly TV while having sex in between.

It is now 10 PM, and he is getting ready to play a show. He is proud to introduce me as his girl and makes sure I have everything I need before he goes on stage.

It’s now time for his solo. He spots me gives me a smile that makes me feel like the only woman in the room. The show is over, and he immediately finds me. I give him the biggest smile, and he grabs and pulls me close. He’s sweaty, and I do not mind because he is all mine. We drink and dance the night away.

On the ride home, he tells me how beautiful I am and how much he appreciates having me in his life.

I smile.

Life is good.

I am falling hard for this man, but something keeps holding me back. No, it’s not feelings for an ex or deep-rooted daddy issues.

The thing that keeps holding me back is, I am a grown ass black woman falling for a white man.

I love black men.

If it would not be for a black man; my daddy, I would not be the strong black woman I am today. Despite this man having all the qualities I want in a partner, the fact that this man lacks melanin keeps holding me back. I believe love is love, but I did not expect to fall for this guitar playing, blues singing, blue-eyed white man.

Relationships are already hard enough, but when you add race into the mix, it is even harder. Between the occasional dirty stare from strangers or the “funny” “How did this white boy get this fine ass black woman?” comment, you both have to be secure with yourself and your relationship.

If I was with a black man, it could all be so simple. We would be #blacklove. I saw myself one day posting that “10 AM morning walks with bae. #blacklove” photo. Instead, I debate whether or not I should post a photo of my new relationship at all.

Was I secure enough?

It is Sunday evening. We are sitting on the porch drinking whiskey and being silly. He is playing guitar while we come up cheesy songs. He passes me the blunt and tells me I am beautiful. He says he loves when I do not wear makeup and pull my hair into a puff.

I smile.

Life is good.

Moments, where we are just being us, are my favorite. Love is love. I open Instagram and take a selfie with him playing guitar in the background. #justus I am a grown ass black woman, but I am falling for a white man.

Maybe one day I will be #blacklove, but until then I will let love in and enjoy being #justus.

A Grown Ass Black Woman

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