an open letter.
I remember being thirteen years old and telling my best friend at the time that I wanted to marry a white man when I got older so my daughter didn’t come out as dark as me.
And she, being only a few shades lighter than me replied, “Girl, me too.”
I still have pieces from the broken men I've dated. I still have scars on my soul from trying to put them back together. I've dated men who didn't love themselves & in turn, I tried to love them more than I loved myself. I've dated men who didn't take the lessons they learned from our encounter & went on to be destructive, blaming me for faults of their own.