Dating at 40 is one thing, dating at 40 with a natural is an entirely different beast.
Recently, a dear friend of mine set me up on a date. I usually “don’t do” blind dates but I needed a break from the crap I was seeing on those dating websites. It wasn’t a full-on blind date, I did see a picture of him before we met in person and what I saw – I liked. Before we met, Robert and I exchanged a few emails. (Y’all know Robert is not his real name.) He seemed cool, as cool as any one can be via email – he also came with a great reference. One date turned into three - and I thought things were going pretty darn well.
That was until date number four.
After our third round of drinks and two orders of seared tuna tacos, we were feeling pretty good. My makeup was perfect and my hair was on point with my new flower hair clip from Ododo Originals. (I highly recommend you check ‘em out)
Our corner of the restaurant was filled with our laughter and great conversation until Robert slowly says, “so, when are you going to wear your hair straight?” I consider myself a smart cookie but for some reason I could not comprehend with what he was asking me.
It turns out; our mutual friend showed him a picture of me when my hair was relaxed. I was also 20 pounds heavier in that photo but weight wasn’t his issue. When it finally sunk in as to what he was getting at, I told him that I was not going to use a flat iron on my hair and the only chemicals I will put in my hair is hair dye.
Needless to say we did not finish the tuna tacos.
Being the gentleman that he is, Robert graciously informed me that he liked “his women to have straight hair”. I could dig that, we all have preferences. And at that moment, I preferred he paid the bill for wasting my damn time. He was also gracious enough to let me know that it was him and not me. Well, duh! I’m not sure how he thought I was going to carry his bag of crazy.
I’ve read about dudes like Robert. On natural hair websites and message boards, there are tons of blog posts and comments about black guys not digging sisters with naturals. Hell; my own brother suggested I get a weave. I’m not going to lie, for an instant I allowed them to make me feel unattractive.
For an instant.
But I have grown to love my hair. My hair is beautiful. It’s sensitive, it’s strong and it makes a statement - Just like me.
As I walked home, I began thinking about black women and our hair. Most men, like Robert, don’t realize that a good number of us don’t have straight hair. It’s curly, wavy, kinky and everything in-between. Many of us get perms slaved on when there is a hint of “new growth”. Just recently, a friend of mine put his fingers in my hair and I realized that in the two years we dated, he had never touched my hair. When I bought it up his reply was, “I know the rules when it comes to black women and their hair.” #Truth.
Right now, the only guys making a b-line to me are the homeys selling incense and body oils on the Broad Street Line. But it’s all good in my ‘hood, what that dude failed to see was that I am more than just my hair.
It was him. It most definitely was.
*I am not implying that the women that decide to wear their hair one way are any better that than those that decide to wear their hair another way. It is indeed just hair and we are all more than just our hair. xoxo
