*Below, is a journal entry from weeks ago*
Being a Black woman, who loves a Black man, wanting to raise Black babies and having a village of Black loved ones can be...a lot. Crushing sometimes, when the painful thoughts of how the people you love the most can be treated in this country hits you at 6am.
My mind wouldn’t let me sleep this morning. My tears soaked my pillow and it became uncomfortable to lay down. I was forced up, crying, praying, pleading to God to protect those I hold so dear. To protect a community of people I know and don’t know.
I woke up with the thought of Daunte Wright on my mind. I heard there’s a video of what happened to him going around but I haven’t watched it and I won’t. His face keeps popping in my head and all I can think about is the fact that when George Floyd was murdered, Daunte probably thought “damn, that coulda been me” or “I hope that doesn’t happen to me”. I can’t stop thinking about the countless Black names that have become a hashtag--echoed by the Black community, who have long been hunted for fun and pleasure.
I tell myself not to think about it, but how can I not…
And when I think about it, I think about the Black man I love and how much I want to protect him from all of this. Forgetting that I too, a Black woman, also need to be protected from all of this.
Being a Black woman, who loves a Black man, wanting to raise Black babies in America...is knowing that no matter how many self-care days you take, no matter how much you try not to think too hard about it or stay too long on the internet when a new name starts trending there will always be that little part of your mind that worries constantly. Because we’re human. We feel. We hurt and we’ve been hurting for too damn long.
And though I hate what my people have gone through, it doesn’t change the fact that I want to love my Black man and bring Black children in this world. In fact, it makes me want it even more. I want to show the world this beautiful, brilliant and bold Black Love. I want to raise my children to embrace their Blackness in all its dynamic ways. From their father’s African American culture to my Jamaican culture-- they will be blessed to grow up in a home that teaches them how amazing Black people are and always have been from all over the diaspora.
Being a Black woman, who loves a Black man, wanting to raise Black babies has made me more fearless than ever before.
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