He wants to marry me.
He’s not rushing me.
He’s just helping me understand his intention.
He is teaching me how to cook.
Not in a “barefoot and pregnant” kind of way. But more like fun things we do together.
He nurtures me.
He saw that I didn’t have a television.
So he took me to the store and bought one for my bedroom.
He is getting me a big one for the living room. I don’t think I need it but he tends to take care of me in terms of what he wants for me. It takes some getting used to.
I am growing in making room for him to love me his way. It’s getting easier.
He takes care of me.
He washes my clothes, feeds me with his hands, and bathes me.
Each time he kisses me, Happy climbs up his body to kiss his face. And he lets him. Every time.
He encourages and supports me to keep my routine. I don’t have to sacrifice my prayer life, workouts, or space to be loved by him.
He got a therapist to tend to his wounds so he didn’t act them out on me.
He hired a couple’s therapist to learn how to talk to me so he doesn’t trigger my PTSD.
We play ol’ school video games together.
He makes my heart smile.
I’m learning how to trust and love a Black man.
He wants to marry me.
I’ve never been married to a Black man before.
I have never been so cherished.
I am learning to let my guard down.
He waits on me.
He won’t take money from me.
I tried to buy dinner one time and he flexed.
It shocked me. “You are MY woman. I will take care of the bill.”
I wanted to argue for equal partnership in our relationship, but something in his eyes let me see that this was intimately important to him so fell back.
Am I getting weak?
Being a punkass?
Or am I learning to let myself be loved by a Black Man?
Perhaps all of the above.
I don’t know.
He’s a protector and a provider.
I have never been protected or provided for.
He buys groceries.
It’s fun going food shopping with him.
It feels like home.
He let’s me tend to his beard.
I got beard oil and tiny scissors to trim his mustache.
He says it makes him feel loved.
I don’t know if we will get married.
It’s ok if we don’t.
I’ve never been the sort of woman who dreamt of a big wedding to feel complete.
I am very moved and thankful that he sees me and treats me like the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Very few women, worldwide, will ever experience the level of care he gives so freely and consistently to me.
It heals me.
And for now, that’s enough.
By. Dr. Venus Opal Reese