I never pictured the kind of man I would marry or be with because I, in fact, never wanted to be married, but that’s beside the point! When I began my serious dating journey, I was fascinated by the idea of dating brown skin or what I call sexy chocolate men.
I spent a large majority of my dating life in the worst place to date, Kentucky. Which also happens to be a place that doesn’t have many Haitian people. When I got to college, I saw some of the most beautiful men. Haitian men, who would have thought. In the middle of Nowhereville, Kentucky. A city where fine-ass Haitian men scoring touchdowns & dunking basketballs right before my eyes. Yes, I was in heaven!! These guys became my close friends, but one, in particular, shot his shot, and of course, it went in. On a sneaky link, we had our fun, but my mother would have killed me if I brought him home. Yes, he was a Creole-speaking, toes out in sandals wearing Haitian man in college, but he would be considered a “vagabond.” But to add insult to injury dude was a total thug! Extensive criminal record, and I couldn’t even tell you what for because I was afraid to ask. My sneaky link with him lasted a whole two months & ended with him being put into a police car.
My next try at the Haitian Love Connection was another failed attempt. I met this guy on Facebook, and he wouldn’t stop liking my photos & sending messages that I would always ignore. Eventually, I decided to respond, and from there, we seemed to have a good conversation. Which later led to us texting late at night, sending selfies throughout the day. After about a month of communicating via text and voice notes, he asked to take me out to a hookah bar. I was excited! I hadn’t been on a date in a while, and after all, this man was a beautiful specimen. Long locs with a taper, shoulders like Zeus from what I could see in photos, so I could only fantasize about the rest. I went on this date, and as we ate food and smoked hookah, he proceeded to tell me that “he wanted a housewife who would stay at home and raise his 3 children from his failed marriage and the two that he planned to put in me. Trying to keep me from puking up my chicken tenders, I proceeded to tell him, “I don’t want children.” He asked me why not in awe that a woman would ever have such an opinion & I said, “I just never pictured a life with them, so I don’t really want them.” He then explained how a good wife would cook and clean and raise the children. He would go to work and come home and enjoy a plate of food and a beer being brought to him. I said very quickly, “oh, I cook for the week, you’ll never have to worry about food, but I won’t be a housewife; I have no desire.” He just looked at me like I had twelve heads. As he got the check & walked me to my car, I kissed my newly acquired fantasy of a beautiful Haitian man on my arm speaking Creole in my ear away. I couldn’t get with his vision for marriage and life in general. His idea for his life sounded like he was trying to control me like a game of 2k & I wasn’t having it. So, I drove home with a full stomach and no intentions of ever meeting up with him again.
The third and final ride on the love boat didn’t last more than two weeks. Of course, another beautiful Haitian man appeared in my area of nowheresville. I was excited, we were stopping the same age, had a lot in common, and he didn’t think less of me because I was still learning Creole; he actually helped me practice. I was ready to see where things would go. Until I had other females coming to me as a woman about a man that wasn’t officially mine. We were chatting. And hanging out exclusively, but he wasn’t my boyfriend. I kissed that fun Creole partner goodbye, the reason being that if it’s only been two weeks and Females are already coming to me as a woman, I can’t imagine what it would be like in a month.
It’s not that I never had the desire. Because when I saw the opportunity, I went for it. I was intentional. But the Haitian men I encountered just weren’t my speed. I can’t say it was always then because, for all I know, I may not have been the cherry on top of their sundae. But I know each time, I was open to the possibilities, intentional about the Haitian Love Connection & pretty certain that I needed to get off that train. Years later, I found my forever boo—a husky yank from Connecticut with the heart of a southern gentleman. My American boy loves Haitian food, has stiff hips, and can’t gout but is excited about visiting Haiti, where we will renew our wedding vows in 4 more years. No Haitian man slander; I just live my little American boy! I think this is how it was supposed to be.
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