I find it is extremely interesting that Love (Valentine’s) Day is during Black History Month. It’s the shortest month in the year and a celebration for Love & Black History share the month?

(My brain starts conceiving theories…)

To start with the question, “is love and or romance taboo?” Sit with this question awhile, tell me what you think?

For greater context, I am a lover of love, always have been just plain SILLY for a unconventional love story. But, sharing that sentiment with others has taken me through quite the adventure in my lifetime. Clever men would catch on, more times than I’m willing to admit, and I’d be taken advantage of. I wasn’t surprised when I learned that heartbreak was common. It also left many of us feeling a level of shame for our faith in love.

To add to the pot, as a dark brown skinned girl, growing up, seeing myself in representations of functional romantic love across the media and in my surroundings was few and inconsistent. My desire for love was incredibly strong, but the idea seemed as far fetched to me as becoming a space traveler. There was a chance, I could try, but would I have the endurance to stay the course after so many attempts? Why couldn’t I envision myself in a happy, loving relationship? That question alone led me on a journey of deep, inner self discovery.

Be the representation you needed to see.

Learning and being proud of my ancestry, my history was integral in valuing myself. How many of us black women went through a phase of wanting to appear lighter? Have shinier looser curls or straighter hair in general? The reason why I had a love block, is because I learned internal self hatred. We were given perms or constant “protective styles” because the hair that grew out of our head was “unmanageable”. Makeup was another way to sometimes hide our “less desired” features.

I came to the conclusion that learning to love me had to be the first step. Then, learning to accept my ferocious desire to love despite rejection helped the shame of heartbreak to melt away.

So, to me, the combined celebration of love and black history is a brilliant example of serendipity. Getting to know yourself, is to practice self care. To practice self care, is to have self love. Loving yourself is to celebrate love. Finally, to celebrate love is to open yourself up to finding romantic love or just allowing it to find you!

I been lookin for you my whole life, an appetite
For the feeling I can barely describe, where you reside?
Is it in a woman, is it in money, or mankind?
Tell me something got me losing my mind, ah!

You make me wanna jump
(Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump)
(Let’s talk about love)
(Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump)
(Let’s talk about love)
(Let’s talk about love)
(Let’s talk about love)

Kendrick Lamar, Momma, from To Pimp A Butterfly