I can’t see ’em coming down my eye, so I gotta make this blog cry… (Thanks Jigga)

This relationships blog has been a long time coming and long overdue. Years ago (2002/2003), I used to write a column for a now-defunct St. Louis news-magazine called The Flipside. It was going well until their “marketing genius” decided they wanted to create a corresponding column from a sister, and have us “beef” back and forth. When I didn’t want to go that route and decided to walk away, the female editor told me I needed to “man up.” As Coach Singletary said, “Can’t play with ’em; not gonna do it!”

Fellas, how do you know if the headache is worth it?
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Yet, circumstances have forced my hand. And, I feel the need to use this sounding board to get some things off my chest. So, let us begin…

First, what this blog won’t be:

  • A handbook by which sisters will learn the latest techniques for how to manipulate their man.
  • A sister-bashing forum.
  • Groundwork for any justification of being anti-Black women.

Now, what this blog will be:

  • My observations of the complications in male-female relationships, especially within the Black community.
  • A bridge for the gap that keeps Black men and women apart.
  • My therapy.

So, what’s sparked the rebirth of these musings? Well, truth be told I’m a man who not quite 29 has been married twice – and failed twice. Must be true what they say about “the best laid plans of mice and men…” Good intentions are not enough.

But, I can’t see ’em coming down my eye, so I gotta make this blog cry…

That first bad experience kills it all. The first one you “do wrong” stays with you forever. After that, every subsequent relationship is tainted by the stain of “relationship past.” You either carry your own burdens and failings, are burdened by the failings of the significant others who came before you, or both.

Needs and desires cause things to move too fast. Wounds and hurts cause things to move too slow. Either way, opportunities are missed or ruined…and the cycle continues.

It’s been said that I’m too sensitive. And, that might be true. In this society, sensitivity is a female trait. So, it’s ok for a woman to express emotions. But when a male does, a woman (and society) says he needs to “man up.”

So, man up he does. But, when that happens a woman becomes a simple accessory – easily interchanged like neck-ties to suit the occasion. And, in doing this a man earns the badge of dawg…so the cycle continues: more hurt is dished out, the breach is widened.

But, I can’t see ’em coming down my eye, so I gotta make this blog cry…

Maybe the madness cannot stop. But, it seems as if the situation forces the cynic to win-out. And, when the cynic wins everyone looses.

Yet, as was demonstrated in the recent events surrounding the death of Michael Jackson, we never appreciate a person and/or situation until it’s too late. We never want to do the work of preservation until it becomes an effort of resuscitation. And, sometimes what wasn’t worth being preserved is better left to die. Sometimes we take a sick animal and are forced to put it to sleep – no matter how much it meant to us.

Many brothers – most I know – start out wanting to be a gentleman. Most start out wanting to be a nice guy. But, dating and wanting to date changes things. No one likes to fight. And, it’s easier to work debauchery than to do what’s right. When a brotha wants to lead a woman to the trough, she goes eagerly. Yet, try to get her to drink from pure waters and she’ll only go kicking and screaming. Indeed, such a tragedy…

Learn the right way to lead her.
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But, I can’t see ’em coming down my eye, so I gotta make this blog cry…


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