In Order To Love A Black Man, I Had To First Forgive My Father
I can't lie. Black love feels different since Korryne.
Since Trayvon.
Since Philando.
Since Rodney f--cking King.
It feels more profound and more important.
I haven't been able to write lately because I've been reflecting on what it means to be loved and Black.
When I was 13, my father abandoned us. He abandoned me. The reasons didn't even matter. Ultimately, he was needed and did not show up. He was the first man to ever teach me that love could be temporary. Retracted. That it could dissolve into thin air. It left me wondering why I was so damn insignificant. Wondering what about me could be so easily dismissed.
He was the first man to ever teach me that love could be temporary.
And yet, I couldn't love a Black man until I forgave my father for every wrong thing he ever did.
And I couldn't forgive my father until I forgave myself.
If you're Black, there are two things I know for sure. That you are beautiful and that you are damaged.
I know your parents are likely more damaged than you. And their parents before them, even more so. You don't have to come from degradation or poverty for this to be true. You don't have to come from hell for this to be true. This is true because the condition of the world in which we live is such that we have been conditioned as slaves. Our men have been taken and beaten, our women have been forced to take on things too heavy for their backs. We bent and twisted like tree roots through sidewalks. Unforgivably determined and yet — confined.
It's OK to accept this.
Because it won't change until we accept this.
I can't blame the condition of Black love on the industrial prison complex. I can't blame it on crooked cops. I can't blame it on slave masters who sailed boats filled with Black bodies. There's no place for blame. But understand those things are the reason.
I know that if you're a Black woman it is more likely than not that you have been raped or violently assaulted.
That you have walked out of or into your home feeling unsafe. That you have been told precisely who you are by people who miscalculate your worth. That you have overcompensated for the assumptions on the other side of tables and across rooms. That you may not know your father or feel inconsequential in his eyes. That you keep your chin up because you have to despite a weary neck.
That when people praise you, they are actually praising the generations of women who came before you as well. That you step lightly for no one because you can't afford to be passive. That even though your tongue is sharp and your gaze is fixed, you want to be held and loved and comforted and told everything is alright.
I know that if you're a Black man there has been a narrative written in your name. You may have been raped, beaten, neglected, assaulted and forced to shake it off. That you may have been raised by a tired single mother who didn't have the time or was not taught to think about your emotional development. Who may have leaned on you too hard, too soon and taught you to feel burdened by the opposite sex. That you exist in an alternate reality in which Black men are taken for granted by passers-by — who can't possibly acknowledge that they are walking past kings.
I know these things. We all know these things. And yet we pretend that we don't.
And then there's Black love.
We're thrust into the gravity of each other. Maybe for a night or a summer or possibly a decade or a lifetime.
The Black man and the Black woman who have been given skewed versions of love lessons.
Standing in rooms we didn't choose to be in.
Trying to run from and understand each other at the same time. The tug-of-war is poetic and heartbreaking and life-giving. We write love letters with missing syllables and still dance to its rhythm in pure imagination. But that shit doesn't last.
How do you love someone who may be systematically broken? And who, throughout their life, may break again and again?
I don't pretend to be an expert in the art of Black forgiveness but I do know it begins with forgiving yourself. To stand in front of a mirror, or at a bus stop or before an ocean or on line at the supermarket or at the wake of a new lover's touch and say or think, “I forgive myself."
I FORGIVE MYSELF.
To accept that every painful thing you've experienced was in fact abuse — no matter how insignificant you've been told it was. That you should have been treated better but was not. That you shouldn't have been discarded or ignored or profiled — but you were. To forgive the cracks and missing pieces that exist within yourself and understand those marks are things of beauty. Because we are not what has been done to us. We are walking manifestations of our ancestors' dreams. Every one of us.
If you can forgive yourself a thousand times a day — know that you will have to forgive your lover just the same. You will have to accept that they will hurt you, pull away from you, lie to you, and perhaps leave you. That they may do those things because those things have been done to them by others. Or by you.
And then you have to accept how important this process is. The static in the air right now is solidifying.
We are at war.
We do have to fight back.
We do have to be aggressive.
We do have to be relentless.
But if Black people are standing on a battlefield, make no mistake — our greatest weapon is the ability to be loving.
To ourselves, to our lovers, to our children.
To our oppressors who are cowardly waiting for us to retreat.
Ashley Simpo is a writer, mother and advocate for self-care and healthy relationships. She lives in Brooklyn, NY. Follow her on Instagram and Twitter @ashleysimpo. Check out her work and her musings on ashleysimpocreative.com.
ItGirl 100 Honors Black Women Who Create Culture & Put On For Their Cities
As they say, create the change you want to see in this world, besties. That’s why xoNecole linked up with Hyundai for the inaugural ItGirl 100 List, a celebration of 100 Genzennial women who aren’t afraid to pull up their own seats to the table. Across regions and industries, these women embody the essence of discovering self-value through purpose, honey! They're fierce, they’re ultra-creative, and we know they make their cities proud.
VIEW THE FULL ITGIRL 100 LIST HERE.
Don’t forget to also check out the ItGirl Directory, featuring 50 Black-woman-owned marketing and branding agencies, photographers and videographers, publicists, and more.
THE ITGIRL MEMO
I. An ItGirl puts on for her city and masters her self-worth through purpose.
II. An ItGirl celebrates all the things that make her unique.
III. An ItGirl empowers others to become the best versions of themselves.
IV. An ItGirl leads by example, inspiring others through her actions and integrity.
V. An ItGirl paves the way for authenticity and diversity in all aspects of life.
VI. An ItGirl uses the power of her voice to advocate for positive change in the world.
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How A Stay At Switzerland's Luxurious 7132 Hotel Reminded Me To Live The Life I Deserve
Sometimes, as women—especially as single Black women—we simply need to be reminded that we are deserving of living a life we dream of. Even if that means creating it for ourselves. I recently set out on a weeklong trip to Switzerland, a trip I’ve been wanting to take for years, and near the end of my visit, I had an epiphany.
“DeAnna, this is the life you deserve,” I thought to myself as I took in the gorgeous bathroom in my suite at the famous 7132 Hotel and Thermal Spa. It was one of the most luxurious hotels (and bathrooms) I had ever stayed in—and that’s saying a lot for someone who often travels for work.
To help you better understand why this was such a mental awakening for me, I first need to give a bit of my backstory. I’m in my late thirties. I’m an attorneyand a journalist. I own a home and have traveled the world extensively. Essentially, I’ve done everything in life I set out to do. However, when it comes to dating, I struggle. Not because there is anything wrong with me per se, but because my career and “lifestyle” often create problems in my romantic relationships.
View from my hotel room
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I’ve been told everything from, ‘I can’t continue to date you because you seem to choose your career over wanting to settle down and have kids’ by a man after only the second date to ‘Maybe if you just sat down somewhere for a while, I’d actually wife you’ by someone who has honestly never proven themselves to be the settle down type. And these are only a handful of the things I’ve been told over the years.
It’s been frustrating, to say the least, and there have even been seasons where I purposely dimmed my light in hopes that my career wouldn’t push away potential suitors. I know what you’re thinking, “Girl, why would you even consider that? If they’re for you, it won’t matter what you do.” Hey, don’t judge me, but also, I one hundred percent agree.
My hotel bathroom
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That’s why this recent moment in Switzerland was right on time. When I first walked into the hotel to check in, I was blown away by the surrounding beauty. It was a five-star property with one of the world’s most famous thermal bathhouses. Yet, it was something about seeing that 90% of the hotel’s guests were couples, that forced me to sit back for a bit of introspection—while soaking in the thermal spa, of course.
As I went through the mental conversation, there was a battle of sorts. On one hand, I knew that being able to partake in experiences like the one I was having at that moment was important to me. I knew that, at times I actually love being able to dabble in the finer things—after all, I’ve worked hard to be able to afford them. On the other hand, and sadly, I knew that sometimes being a single Black woman that publicly showcases her “luxurious” habits can intimidate men and even scare them off from pursuing you under the guise of them feeling like they “can’t do anything for you, because you have everything.”
My hotel room
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So, what is a girl to do?
Do I minimize/hide the life and experiences that I have? Do I play down the hard work I’ve put in to get where I am professionally? Or, do I risk being single in exchange for being able to have said life, without backlash?
Luckily, the joy that I felt while being at this property won. There was something about taking a full day to simply pamper myself at the bathhouse and in my in-room steam shower and soaker tub, indulging in cuisine from a 2-star Michelin restaurant and doing all of this while surrounded by an amazing group of Black women that reminded me—this is certainly the life I was meant to live and that I deserve. Even if it means that right now, I’ll just have to provide it for myself until the right partner comes along. And honestly, I’m okay with that.
Restaurant at 7132 hotel
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