Black, British, and Probably Crazy
Today we have a guest blog by NML who has several blogs of her own including Baggage Reclaim which talks about relationships and emotionally unavailable men, and Bambino Goodies (baby products) along with a few others. She’s also just finished a book Mr. Unavailable and The Fallback Girl. I’m always curious about the black experience in other countries so I asked for her to share. Check it out:
The Dad asked me to do a guest post about being black and from the UK and I wondered what I should write about – my crazy crackerjack family, thinking that London would be a paradise full of black boys, being brought up in an almost totally white country, idiotic racists, or my many dodgy dating experiences, but I realised we haven’t got all year…so I’ll stick to talking about men for this one and this is simply because if there is one thing that dominates my ‘Black British Experience’, it’s the species with a penis….
Whilst the US and the UK are very different, there is no pond dividing us on the black dating issues.
I moved to London seven years ago in an attempt to get away from my loser ex and start a new life on my own terms without my blackness being a focal point. I was particularly excited about being in a sea of blackness, especially with the prospect of lots of men!
I was born in England, but I was actually raised in Dublin, Ireland, white country. Whilst there are a lot more black people there now, back then, it didn’t matter what the black guy looked like or whether he had any good qualities; women would literally be beating each off with a stick to get to him. This was great progress really considering that the first racism that myself and my brother ever experienced (we were 9 and 10) was on our first day at school in Ireland where we called n*ggers and chocolate chips!
I actually have great memories of growing up in Dublin but it does become wearing when people are constantly curious about you. By the time I moved to London at 23, I’d already had more bad dates than hot dinners and was uncomfortable with being wheeled around like a black trophy piece. Golden rule: When you want to chat up black women it’s best not to say “I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to be with a black woman” or “You’re my fantasy”…
Whilst being black, social, and able to dance ensured that I got in as a VIP in lots of clubs (I know that sounds so ridiculous), I was bored. I didn’t want to define myself purely on my blackness but living like the spectacle at the feast had made me very unsure of myself and where I fit in. As it turned out, I was in for a huge disappointment. There were black men galore alright, in London – it’s just that many that I met weren’t my ‘type’.
Much like America, there is this perceived issue between black men and women. You know – black women claim that they can’t find a man on their ‘level’, black women also get peeved about losing ‘their’ men to white women, black men think that black women chat too much and are too in your face, black guys think that black women want too much and bla, bla, bla…
The types of guys that I kept meeting and pursuing me – All of the black women who say that they can’t find a black guy are welcome to them!
Handy tip from me: All men are a pain in the arse no matter what colour they are. It just feels more localised and prevalent when you’re only fishing from one pool of fish…The pool becomes a puddle the more criteria you have…
I’ve met so many playa’s, hustlers, men with girlfriends, men with wives, men with troublesome babymama’s, men that like to press their sweaty hard-on against you in a club, that I started to wonder if I’d ever meet someone (I did but it certainly wasn’t in a club). I spent years in ‘black’ clubs where I actually really enjoyed the dancing and the vibe, but I was just never comfortable with someone trying to screw me through my clothes on the dancefloor, often when we weren’t even on first name terms!
Golden rule: Be careful of going to ‘black’ clubs; they’re full of harbour sharks….
One of my funniest dating moments ever:
When a date turned up stoned, he proceeded to spend the date talking quite dirty until I demanded that he took me home. When we pulled up outside my place, he told me I was making him ‘ache’ and demanded that I ‘touch’ him. I got out and slammed the door and he shouted “It’s bitches like you that keep the black man down!”
I think its safe to say that my downfall with black men was having expectations because I came over here expecting to be wowed with a plentiful supply and instead found myself quickly slipping into the role of Typical Single Black Woman – ‘alone’ and with black guys thinking that I thought I was too good for them.
Fortunately now that I have a man, I don’t have to listen to guys telling me that I’m “uptight”, “posh”, “not black enough”, “a coconut” or demanding that I screw them straight away. Even though I could have done without them, I have a lot of funny dating experiences to draw on and at 30, older, wiser, and without the need to be prowling clubs, I’m glad I’ve had the Black British Dating Experience – If you can survive the madness, you can pretty much survive anything!
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