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252 pages, Paperback
First published January 15, 2019
Maybe these women had not, in fact, internalized the notion that not only should Black women not expect to be loved they should not even desire it.
The idea that Black women are unworthy beggars at the table of love (and thus better fix themselves or die trying) grows like crabgrass out of the compacted, grub-ridden lawn of white supremacy and misogynoir.
White men calling black students spoiled is like the specialist of all special snowflakes calling the pebble delicate.
Simply to enter the spaces where white women are likely to come into contact with us black women have to be superlative in ways white women do not.
In other words, said Morrison: You are not obliged to live in someone else's imagination of you. You're not even obliged to acknowledge it.
What I did was to simply go on seeing a person who treated my heart like toilet paper, who valued my soul and my very being about as much as he valued Styrofoam. I presented to be in charge of what was happening. I told myself that even though I wanted more I could accept less and not be compromised, that the excitement and the sex were worth it, at least for a while. I told myself I was not trying to win his love. I told myself I knew I never would.