Sundays With Rae

a blog for women by a woman who is trying to get her life together while still loving Jesus

Loving A Black Man

Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.
Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.
Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.

Sometimes I get upset that I allow tears to pierce the corners of my eyes. Once they are there, I cannot stop them from falling and it scares me that I will never be able to. That this feeling of despair is a prerequisite for loving black men. It is required learning, understood as necessary to carry such a love. And as difficult as it may be at times, I will carry it just as naturally as I carry the air in my lungs. When it gets hard to breathe, I will inhale a little deeper, soak up the particles of black boy joy floating in the air. The ones they do not want to see because they are too busy seeing a threat. I will hug a black man much tighter and much longer than I ever have before, allowing the sound of his heartbeat to be music to my ears. It will be a reminder that all of the good do not have to die young; that street pavements do not have to serve as death beds for black bodies at the insistence of white hands. I will let a black man see me cry, an act of vulnerability my own mother cannot tell you the last time she saw. Even with the tears falling against my will, my soul will be cleansed after it has been seen by this black man. I will pray I will be as safe a space for him as he has been for me. And I will breathe a bit easier and continue to breathe for all of those who no longer can.

Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.
Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.
Inhale love for the black man, exhale love for the black man.

Genesis 2:7 And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.

By Jalethea Byrd