When I made the pronouncement to unapologetically say that anyone I form a long-lasting bond with, especially in the realm of a relationship, has to be black, people were looking at me crazy. Whilst I don’t owe anyone an explanation, I feel the need to detail my thoughts on the matter.

My entire life, I have been content with the notion that my life partner would be another black person. It’s not because I am incapable of forming relationships or seeing the beauty in different races or ethnicities, but there has always been one similarity that must exist between myself and anyone I plan to pursue. Especially if I am to entertain the idea of forming a lifelong companionship with them. That one characteristic is that we both have to be black.

Making unapologetic conscious choices around the intention of seeing the beauty in blackness is a daily practice of mine, especially in a world that has deemed my blackness to be ‘less than’ another human for generations. So, at least for me, it is impossible to create the type of cognitive dissonance needed to separate this ideal when pursuing my own interests, especially in who I allow myself to create this ‘lifelong companionship’ with, from every other choice I make revolving around the same ideal of pro-blackness. When I think about it at a deeper level, I feel like I place too much value in what it is I bring to companionships, even in the short term, to not be in control of at least the commonalities that coexist between me and my partner.

As humans, we have thankfully come to a point where we have a somewhat openness and the capability of loving who we choose to. However, I will always stress and stick to making a conscientious choice of pumping my time and energy into recognizing and appreciating the beauty in blackness.

As for me and my house, loving a black partner is in and of itself a form of self-love.