This piece caught quite a bit of attention when I previously presented it, so I kept it locked away for a bit. Now I am a little more confident and ready. I wrote this piece out of the frustration I feel being stared at, stereotyped, and treated differently when I am accompanied places by my husband and/or children than when I am alone. So, if you feel offended and believe I may be referring to “people like you” then it’s highly likely that I am…

You stare as though you saw me steal.

I cannot walk by without your misconceptions choking me.

You don’t like me because I am in love?

You hate me for being treated like a queen?

for having a provider;

comforter;

protector?

Oh… oh yeah- that’s right.

You detest me for having gorgeous biracial children
with a strong, sexy, smooth, dark chocolate, black brother.

You hate to see me being held his defined, sharply chiseled,
muscular arms.

You hate to see me being kissed by his soft, luscious,
sweet honey brown- rose tinged lips.

You hate that you cannot talk about us
for not taking care of our babies -
because we do;
or for not being educated -
because we are;
or for not being able to compete -
because we can;
or because you don’t think we will make it -
because we have.

You mock my children for having perfectly golden-olive complections.
You fight the feeling when you want so badly to admire
their shiny, perfect ringlets that embrace their beautiful faces.

You hate that I am a beautiful, intelligent, UNavailable white woman.
You watch as I gaze though hazel eyes so affectionately
and you realize the depth of your own love could never compare.

Perhaps you hate that he is a confident, intelligent, sexy, mature, successful young black man
with every ounce of his love wrapped around just another “white girl.”

Either way it goes…

Keep hatin.