Tuesday, February 20, 2018

black and brown girls speak out: Lies and Honesty

One of the most amazing things about starting blackgirlgrown is “virtually” meeting lots of black and brown girls on the web with similar callings, but all with a unique voice.

Here are a few recent posts that caught my eye:

The Savvy Sista gives an honest perspective of what it is to be a single black professional woman who wants a relationship and must constantly respond to the typical questions from family, peers, and the like.  As Savvy Sista honestly admits, she lies…to those around her and to herself.  We can relate:

I lie because lying is easier than living in a reality where love may not exist for me. Lying allows me, if only for a moment, to be in control of something that is so uncontrollable. Love. Lying allows me to hide my fears and the fact that I am scared. It allows me to pretend that those dreams that I had about my life as a little kid never existed. I just sweep that part of my life under the rug and pretend I never wrote out the names of my future kids in my diary when I was thirteen years old.

Lying allows me to forget about those nights I spent at home alone crying thinking about those past loves and what went wrong. Lying allows me [to] hide my insecurities and the fact that superwoman has a chink in her armor.  Keep reading.

We all know the scourge of HIV infection within the African American community, and specifically black women.  But we rarely hear what happens after infection.   Rae Lewis-Thornton exposes the vulnerabilities of living HIV positive and searching for love:

We sat at the kitchen table. I remember his smooth caramel skin and dark wavy hair to this day. My mind was racing and my heart was jumping like a jack rabbit. I started slow, “A while back I donated blood and they told me that I was HIV positive.” His smile disappeared. He adjusted himself in his seat, took a slip of the coffee that I had sat in front on him, but he sat in silence. “I really like you and I thought that you should know,” I added. He took a deep breath.

 I started talking again. His silence seemed permanent and it was killing me. “I understand if you don’t want to continue,” I added meekly. Then I started rambling. I can’t remember what I was saying, I just remember that he took his finger and placed it over my lip with one hand and with the other, he rested it on top of my hand. “I’m sorry Rae,” he said tenderly and then silence filled the air yet again. A tear dropped from my eye. “I’m sorry too,” I mumbled. “You’re an incredible woman and you don’t deserve this,” he said softly. I began bracing myself for the let down. He continued. “Rae I really like spending time with you. It will be ok. We can use condoms.” A smile came over my face. I didn’t know what that meant for sure, but it was encouraging. That night, we talked for hours. I told him everything I knew about HIV and my status. And I allowed him to ask me anything he wanted to know. I at least owed him that much.  Keep Reading.

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