Why are church-going black women so lonely?

In the spirit of one of my favorite fluorescent garbed, big-haired 80’s girl band, The Bangles, happy Manic Monday.

Do you wish it was Sunday, back when you were sitting on those hard, wooden pews, fanning away the heat, and perturbed because you sat in back of a very big woman wearing a hat that resembled a cornucopia?

Millions of black women went to church yesterday; and chances are that 99.99999% of the single ones went up to the pulpit for the pastor, deacon, or associate minister to ‘lay hands on them’ and pray, for the 12,654,234th time, for God’s favor in finding them a good black man.

I speak from a position of knowledge. I used to be one of those women. Determined to live right, be virtuous, and find a damn man, I attended a very well-known black mega-church in Los Angeles (which will remain nameless, but they know who they are).

I jumped in with both feet. Not only did I go every Sunday, I joined the Singles Ministry. On any given Wednesday, the meeting was populated by about 15 women, and on a good week, 2-3 men.

The head of the ministry was a cute, twenty-ish black man who got the goo-goo eyes by every lady there under the age of 40. So when he asked me out, I said, “HELL-TO-THE-YEAH!!” Erhm, I mean, I was really excited.

Had God answered my prayers? Would he be the one? Did I need to get on a 24-hour prayer line real quick so someone could confirm the prophecy?

Dude showed up at my apartment and suggested we spend the night in. I guess he was all worn out from all that church-y stuff he did that day. But always accommodating, and desiring to please, I submitted to the lame-assed date.

He spent the next four hours trying to get in my pants. Confused, and trying to speak whilst his tongue was in my mouth, I asked him if he felt any shame for gunning to “know” me in the biblical sense. Guess what he said? “God knows I’ma have sex.” He said that with all the seriousness afforded to a man of his stature.

Alex, I’ll take Hypocrisy and Black Male Privilege for $1,000!

There continues to be a grumbling in the BWE community about the Traditional Black Church’s (TBC) role and possible stake in keeping black women in perpetual singlehood–unless of course they get really, really, really lucky and marry someone within the church and have a bunch of descendents to fill the offering tray. I caught wind of a Tweet exchange just yesterday on Blow The Trumpet’s page.

And interracial dating? Fuggitaboutit. Someone, maybe even a black woman, will give you the side eye if you show up with Peter, Pedro, or Phillipe. Probably single herself, this woman has been successfully brainwashed into holding up the torch for the entire Black Race at the expense of her own happiness.

Of course, there are strong feelings on both sides of this issue. But honestly, I’m only interested in the side that will free black women from their bondage, which is why I’m dedicating an entire chapter in the book about it.

I spoke with dating and relationship expert, blogger, and radio host, Deborrah Cooper, who has some very strong opinions about this issue. As usual, she does not tippy toe. Take a listen by clicking the link: Deborrah Cooper_black church

What say you?

Stand By…

Deborrah picks up this issue on her blog, www.survivingdating.com, later today. Yep, we tag-teamed. It’s just that important.

Also wanted to plug this Tweeter and blogger, She Ponderings, who wrote a very honest essay about her TBC odyssey.