👀 TAY’S PERSPECTIVE

Say Love, It’s Time Y’all Unlock That Damn Gate and Check the Menu

Look, let me get this out the way first before somebody starts crying in my comments, acting like they can’t read.

I want us to win. Period.

I love seeing Black love. I love seeing our folks doing their thing, glowing up, and building something real together. That’s always the goal.

However—queen, I think it’s time y’all start exercising your damn rights and seeing what else is out there.

Because niggahs been outside moving however they want with zero guilt. Sistas can do the exact same shit and stop letting people guilt-trip them into being miserable.

There is nobody like a Black woman on this earth. And before somebody comes around talking about “every woman matters” shut your bitch ass up. Yes, we know. I’m talking about our women right now. Stay on topic.

The energy, the face, the hustle, the body, and the way y’all hold shit down is unmatched. But what blows my mind is watching sistas act like supporting the culture means you gotta stay single forever if the niggahs around you ain’t stepping up.

You can pour into Black people, protect our kids, keep the cookout alive, and still go to sleep next to a dude named Connor or Mateo.

One does not cancel out the other. I’m tired of watching sistas sit around committed to a situation that ain’t pouring shit back into them.

Baby, He Left the Block Years Ago

Now this is where some niggahs are gonna get in their feelings.

Some of y’all will stress yourselves out, go crazy, and start rearranging your whole damn identity for a dude who already told the entire internet what catches his eye.

He likes Becky.

Fine.

LET HIM HAVE HER.

Congrats to JABARKUS. You made it, bro. You unlocked your prize. You got an unlimited pass to unseasoned dog treats with raisins and wet dog smell in the house.

Good for you, fuckboy.

So why the hell are y’all competing over him?

And don’t get me started on the niggahs who think having a white girl somehow upgraded their social status. Like getting invited to a bland ass Thanksgiving dinner came with a certificate saying you finally made it.

Niggah . Sit all the way down. You still Black. When the cops gets behind you, her presence ain’t changing shit.

These be the same niggahs who spend years talking about how Black women are “too loud, too aggressive, got an attitude” then they hit 45, the hairline starts retreating, the belly gets big, and suddenly it’s, “I need a real Black queen to heal my peace.”

Oh, now you want a queen?

Now that the expiration date hit on that mayonnaise, you wanna wander back over here preaching Black love?

Boy, get your bird ass out of here.

I’m not saying every man who dates out the ethnicity is weird. Be with whoever makes you happy. That’s the whole damn point. My only question is for the sistas:

Why is your front door still locked from the inside?

Queens Add Flavor to the Whole Planet

I don’t need a study to prove this. I got eyes.

Have y’all noticed what happens when some of these men get with a Black woman?

I’m dead serious.

You put a black queen with a white dude, and suddenly he gets a fresh fade. His clothes actually fit. He stops looking lost. He knows what seasoning salt is.

She upgraded him.

Put a sista with an Asian man, and now he’s walking around with a little extra swag in his step.

And if you’ve ever seen a sista with a Latino man?

Look at his damn face.

That man be smiling ear to ear like he just caught a blessing. There’s something about that chemistry that just hits different. Maybe it’s the cultures meeting. Maybe it’s discovering somebody you never pictured yourself with. Maybe they just click like a motherfucka.

Whatever it is, why automatically deny yourself the chance to experience it?

Take that energy international.

Don’t Get Delusional Though: Watch Out for the Duffel Bag Boys

Now hold up. Don’t run outside and completely lose your mind either.

I know why some black women are hesitant to take that risk. Let’s be all the way real: some of these white men be on pure, crazy Dateline NBC shit.

You gotta do your background checks, because nobody is trying to see you end up chopped into three pieces inside a North Face duffel bag in the woods behind a cabin. We know they be watching them weird ass serial killer documentaries and getting ideas.

So yes, I completely understand looking at Chad and thinking, “This niggah cute… but why he own six shovels?”

Proceed with caution, sis.

But every race got weirdos, scammers, liars, and broke ass niggahs. Let’s keep it real.

You can get cheated on bilingually.

You can get ghosted internationally.

An Asian dude can lie straight to your face. A Latino dude can waste your damn time. And a white man can have you sitting in his living room wondering why the hell you ever replied to his DM while his taxidermy deer head watches you from across the room.

A clown is a clown in every damn complexion.

There are plenty of good men walking around too, you just gotta keep your third eye open.

Nobody is saying men from other races are some magical saviors coming to rescue Black women. Hell no.

I’m saying don’t throw away a genuinely good man before he even gets through the door simply because he ain’t Black.

That’s it. That’s the message.

You Made the Culture, You Don’t Owe Nobody SHIT

Black women are the backbone of this whole damn thing.

Think about that.

Generations of sistas carried families, kept our history alive, set trends, did the hair, made the food, created the slang, and took real pain and somehow turned it into shit the rest of the world couldn’t wait to copy.

And if you have a baby with somebody from another race, that child is still connected to your bloodline, your history, your family and everything you carry with you.

Nobody is erasing Mama.

Meanwhile, the world borrows your style, copies your hair, steals your body shape, mimics the way you talk, studies your sauce and then turns around acting like they invented the shit.

But you gotta take a loyalty test just to date somebody?

Please.

A Black woman doesn’t need to prove how Black she is by suffering beside some dusty niggah who doesn’t even appreciate her.

You can pour into your community and still come home and hold a good man’s hand. You can keep your roots planted and let your heart travel wherever the hell it wants.

You don’t have to pick. Your Blackness isn’t gonna pack a suitcase and leave because your man isn’t Black.

Stop Limiting Yourself

Dating out doesn’t mean you turned your back on your people.

Love your people. Show up for your people. Be proud as hell of where you come from.

Just stop treating your happiness like it came with a racial rulebook attached.

There are billions of people walking around this planet, and you’re crossing most of them off before they can even say hello?

Say love, unlock the gate and check the damn menu.

You don’t gotta order everything.

Hell, some shit on there probably needs to stay in the kitchen.

But at least see what’s being served.

Sistas have spent enough time carrying everybody else’s weight. There is nothing wrong with finally standing on business and saying:

“I’m going where I’m treated right, respected, and loved. Period.”

If that’s with a solid Black man?

Love to see it.

If it’s with a white man and he ain’t hiding a shovel in his trunk?

Good for you.

Asian?

See what’s up.

Latino?

Mama, he’s probably outside by the car already with that big ass smile on his face.

Whoever it is, stop treating your dating life like you owe somebody a damn debt.

Protect your peace.

Know your worth.

Go where you’re appreciated.

Love whoever loves you right.

And, say love

check the damn menu.