I'm tired of black men...but then again I'm not

Day 2... First initial conversation

I wake up exhausted but ready to start my day.

I decide against overtime to catch up on some much-needed sleep. I damn sure need it. Especially after yesterday with the sexy white man saying I looked tired.

"White man?" I say louder than I expect to.

Where the hell did I put his number and the money he handed me. I don't plan on using the number, but the $50 bill could definitely come in handy.

I hop out of my bed and grab my purse, hoping I put it in there and didn't leave it on my hostess stand. It isn't like it would be the first time I left tips on there by accident.

Searching my purse, and it's not in there.

Where could it be?

I hope I didn't leave it at work, but before I could finish that thought, my roommate comes barging into my room.

"I found this by the doorway," Shanty says, waving my $50 bill and the white paper attached to it in the air.

"Is it toward your portion of the rent that you're late on?" she inquires.

I quickly grab it from her hands.

"No it was a tip that was given to me last night from this sexy ass white man" I smile, thinking about how sexy he was.

She looks over at me "white man?"

"Yes, white man," I say, walking away to put the money in my wallet and to avoid any eye contact that came with her inquisition.

"When did you start liking white men?" She folds her arms against her chest. She wants an answer to a question I'm unsure I have an answer to.

"Umm... I don't like them... he started talking to me," I stammer over my words, not sure why he started talking to me in the first place.

"Uh-huh," she chuckles, still searching my face for answers I still do not have for her.

"What?" I look at her.

"Nothing," she says, smiling and looking me up and down.

"You just worry about all the men you are fucking and don't worry about me," I say walking toward the door, heading for the kitchen.

"Whatever," she mumbles as I move to pass her.

Glad I was able to dodge that interrogation that was brewing up. I pat myself on the back; excellent plan Shay to take the heat off of you and onto her.

I'm not fully ready to talk about white men, especially not with Shanty, who is Pro-black and makes it known constantly. I'm not upset with her for being Pro-black since I'm the same way. We are both a part of the so-called "woke" uprising within the black community. We're very proud to be black women in a society that is not too fond of us but at the same time wants to be us.

You know what I'm talking about, HipHop, big lips, thighs and big butts, black girl shit. They even try to wear their hair "natural" after taking cornrows and extensions from us. I don't mind; it's just, please give us credit for our shit, is all.

We are finally learning to love ourselves without restriction. We are slowly convincing ourselves we don't have to look like a European with a 60-inch weave down our backs to feel beautiful. We know who we are now, but we still have a lot to learn. Like where we come from and where we're going.

So, now you see why I can't date the white man/ oppressor. I will be going against everything I preach. #blackgirlmagic #blacklivesmatter.

Let me give you a brief back story on my girl Shanty and me. We've been friends since we were babies. Our moms were the best of friends, so we were written in stone to be, too.