Black, White, Blue or Green, Men are all the same..Playa’s

I been on the 😶🤫 bout a friend and biz connect I met prior to leaving for Minnesota, but my friend been rocking with, helping me though this hard time.

So I went on a date w/a white man, born & raised in the 7thWard, 1kid, actor, condo, a few coins, ya know what we, women be wishing for. but tonight I wish we wld hv just kept it as business & friends like,not no “I like your style, you different, I wanna take ya out as a man, not no friend ” type of vibe, because I’ll tell ya’ll this, don’t think dating a white man is no different than dating a black man. Your knight in shining armour is all a facade…. A Man still has that Playboy mentality, no matter what color they are. They still want to a take a dip their spoon in your hot chocolate and have taste of ya honey pot…

I have heard Black men date white women, because they are more sexually adventurous than Black Women and submissive???. Since the beginning of time there has been talk about size difference between white & black men…I don’t believe the hype, because there’s a whole lotta big fine tall black men with baby penises and I’m pretty sure there are some hung white men out there. So, if black men date white women, because of great sex & no clap back??? Which I don’t believe..

Why do Black Women 👩🏾date White Men?? What we are we tired of Black Men🧑🏾?? That can’t be it, because this may have been my first official date with a white man👨, but I see they make White Women👩🏼 lose their fricken minds just the same as Black Men 👨🏿do to Black Women👩🏿. Men in general cheat, sleep around, have overbearing Mama’s, not honest, have bad credit, criminal backgrounds and the list goes on. So, why is there an increase in black women dating and marrying white men??

Could it be my friend was raised in a predominantly black neighborhood? But, I do not believe hanging with a certain race affects if a man will be a dog or committed man..

Well, back to my date, this ish felt like I was playing a part in a movie with Chic after Chic coming to our table, seats to say not only “hello” but like a tigress in heat rub up on him “hello” Then he finally manages to insult all that Queendom, Divahood, Treat Her Like A Lady and all that I represent and he likes excuses himself to walk a Chic to her car… I could not stand another second and I left right when I felt my eye twitch, because I felt my Ghetto Neck Popping Finger Popping Alter Ego🤪🤬 making an entrance. She been in the closet for 15 years, her act a fool days were long over and it wasn’t that serious, but I did feel that our friendship was disrespected.

He didn’t even introduce me as a possible business partner. I’m just sitting there like I randomly needed a place to sit my lonely axx too them and at times I stood awkwardly off to the side, I think they may hv thought I was a tourist. 🤷🏿‍♀️

So, instead of going home I consider to enjoy Frenchmen St and don’t yall know he found me👀 and I like unfound his axx again. 👣💨

I get home and my phon📲e rings & I see his lil pic pop up & I rejected it.🚫❌ Am I wrong for not allowing him to explain???? We are friends.. and I’m not looking for a relationship, but I was ignored..

But then as I look back I recall a convo and a post he made about all the women he has dipped his stick in and how he was tired, but he also spoke of his love for women, especially black women and how he was ready to “stop being a playa” but tonight surely proved his groupies not ready for him to be the settling type…..

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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