But I'm not bitter. And I DO NOT hate white women or black men.
I have a degree. I am a homemaker. I stay at home and take care of my family. My husband earns a very good income, so we can afford it.
I am friends with a number of women in my neighborhood. Most of them are white. Four of whom have black husbands, who are professionals.
A few times a week, I get together with these white women. We have tea. Go to lunch. We food shop together.
Frequently our kids sell catalog merchandise for school projects and we support one another's endeavors by purchasing candles, candy or cookie dough.
Not too long ago, one of my white neighbors threw a sex toy party and I attended it.
There are two black women who dwell out here, and GUESS WHAT, they are both single moms, paying their bills, making sure their children are sent to school, making sure their kids are fed. They juggle work responsibilities while taking care of their kids needs. "Girl, it's rough," one lady told me. "You are lucky you're married and not doing it all by yourself."
My

A man should be helping her raise those children. A man helped her make them.
So, when I see white women who are stay at home moms, being supported by black men and then I see a black woman who is a single mom, I think, 'Something is wrong with this picture.'
I wonder, Why are my sistas struggling, while some black men are making life easier for white women?
Yes, I have reflected on it.
Black men regularly insult black women, and sadly, some black women don't even see it.
I used to do lingerie shows. I saw many black men pursuing white women with alacrity.
They wined and dined those chicks. Bought them flowers, chocolates, gave them bling. Gave 'em money towards bills.
Now, hey, that man works. And he is free to spend his money on who and what he wants to spend it on. And if he wants to spend his benjamins on white women, that's his choice.
I would listen to white girls talk about how this or that black man is sooo much fun, how he took her to the comedy club, out to see a play, a show, a concert.
"Oh, he's the most fun guy I've ever dated," one told me.
I suspect the bastard was showing off, trying to impress that so-called white goddess.
And one night, Terry, one of those black men, who wined and dined white chicks asked me, "You wanna go have a drink?" Immediately, I didn't like how it sounded.
But I agreed.
We went to a watering hole. He had two adult beverages and I had one. Long story short. "Wanna go back to my place," he said seductively.
Now, he wines and dines the white chicks, spends big bucks on them, but he buys me a drink and expects sex for doing so.
"Kiss my ass," I told him in a tone as sweet as a canister of sugar. I left the restaurant.
In a used bookstore, I found THE MAYFLOWER MADAM, which was about Sidney Biddles Barrows, a socialite who ran an escort service.
She said she had one black escort, who was beautiful, articulate and outgoing. But rarely did "customers"--she should have said johns-- request this woman's services. "Even the black men were not interested in going out with her," the Mayflower Madam had written.
I guess the black bastards felt if they were going to pay for pussy, they were going to buy the white stuff, the so-called prime stuff.
Sighing over here. Girls, most black men DO NOT want us. The fact that so many lovely, educated black women are alone is proof of that.
And one thing that makes me want to throw up and it happens all too frequently--when I'm out and about, oftentimes, I see black men with white women and I HATE it when he surreptitiously eyes me appreciatively. Isn't he happy with his white slut?