Member-only story
Dear Black Men, Black Women Don’t Hate You
Get over yourselves, there isn’t a war against Black men lead by “bitter” Black women
When I was 15 years old, I went through a streak where no one in my 8th-period science class would sit next to me. Every day, I would enter the classroom and look for my friends; they would smile, say hello, and then immediately shift to the other side of the room. At first, I thought this was just a coincidence, but after a couple of days where people who I considered close friends and even a couple of enemies, were going out of their way to sit somewhere else, I realized that something was wrong. In order to address my deep and growing abandonment issues, I decided resentment and pettiness were my best options for a response.
At first, I was determined not to let it bother me. If people didn’t want to sit next to me, I wouldn’t be upset about it, I would just live my best life, get great grades, graduate, and go to Morehouse college where everyone would think that I was amazing and want to be friends with me. This strategy lasted for about five minutes. It might have worked if I tried it, but that would have been a drama-free solution, and my life needed chaos. I started talking aggressively about everyone within earshot. If people weren’t going to sit next to me, I was going to let them know that I didn’t like it, and was going to tell them that they were…
