Dating African men

Society has a lot of thoughts about who people should date, marry, and have children with.

Aug 27, 2024

Welcome to The Loneliness Economy newsletter 🌻 We talk about relationships, dating, building community, and the economy that has been built around the human experience of loneliness.

Society has a lot of thoughts about who people should date, marry, and have children with. This deeply personal choice can be highly emotional and political for families and communities because our choices speak to our own identities. So many factors influence who we’re attracted to, our options, and our preferences:

Portrayals in media (beauty standards, gender roles, what love should look like)
Early childhood relationships (a first crush, act of kindness, or rejection)
Deep cultural traditions (arranged marriages, matchmaking, expectations)
Federal laws (read: miscegenation & the 1967 Supreme Court case Loving v. Virginia)
Peer pressures (popular opinion, friends and family, social media, ingrained stereotypes)

The concept of who we are becomes more complex when dating across cultures.

My identity in America had been defined by my race, gender, and perceived relationship to access (wealth, education, beauty), a.k.a. social class — in that order. Upon moving to France, my identity became my nationality, race, and perceived relationship to access, yet access was now defined by how well I could speak French (her language and her culture). My identity as an African American was suddenly in stark contrast with African Africans, which initiated a self-education. What does it mean to be Black on a global scale? What is my culture versus my personality?

Through the trials and adventures of friendship and romantic partnership, we can intimately get to know ourselves and appreciate what love looks like in different contexts.

I’ve dated African men1 and here’s what I’ve learned.

The Individual v. The Collective

I believe that the purpose of being in a relationship is to become a happier or better version of myself than I could be alone. While I can do a lot on my own, certain experiences in life feel richer when shared with someone else. For me, the goal is the mutual exchange of comfort, growth, support, and self-fulfillment through partnership.

Americans are known for their belief in rugged individualism and that’s all well and good until it’s not. We have structures in place that allow us to self-isolate and essentially disconnect from people and communities we no longer buy into. Other cultures are dependent on their neighbors for collective vitality. The success of the community is the success of the individual. Trust and values are also shared.

The African men I’ve known have a different point of view when it comes to relationships that largely prioritize the collective. There is a strong sense of responsibility to one’s family, to give back to their community, and to create a legacy. Relationships exist to preserve culture and continuity and engender support. Children aren’t born to fulfill their own dreams and ambitions, but to make their parents proud and pay homage to their sacrifices.

These collectivist values show up in the way they want to be loved and cared for and in the way they love and care for others.

A Woman As an Extension of Themselves

In my experience, African men see a woman as not only a partner but as an extension of their identity. There is a role to be played in fulfilling societal expectations that stem from tradition and modeled behaviors. It can be difficult to determine whether a person is drawn to what a woman symbolizes in their life or to who she is as an individual. There is a comfort to feeling like you have a designated place in someone’s life. But what if you’re too big or too small for it? If this particular place doesn’t resonate with you?

These expectations can manifest in ways that are loving and inclusive or stifling and restrictive. As progressive and modern as one might consider themselves, it is often through moments of challenge that underlying traditional values surface. And that’s perfectly okay—sometimes, you need other people to show you who you are.

Pride & Shame

The African men I’ve known have a very tangible and meaningful relationship with their motherland. They carry a deep pride in their food, dance, language, and history — and rightfully so.

To some extent, this pride often coexists with shame or resignation. The realities of the world are that African men (and African American men) are often underestimated, discriminated against, and face undue hardship. Some accept these challenges with resolve, others with anger or bitterness. Some experience shame, resignation, or self-hatred.

There is pride in achieving your ancestor’s wildest dreams and there is shame knowing that a million other people that look like you will never get close, and you both exist in the same lifetime.

The men in my life have helped me open the book on generational trauma because they wear theirs so well (or sometimes not so well).

Lastly ✨

This is going to sound corny as hell, but love is our greatest teacher. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable, whether in friendship or romantic partnership, will help you grow and evolve as a human being. This space is one of the few areas where men get to be *emotional* and that’s a shame.

We all deserve to experience love. There is no right or wrong way to love or live your life. If it works for you and the person you’re with, that is precious and should be protected.

“The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

Nat King Cole, Nature Boy

One More Thing

Jubilee is one of my favorite things on the Internet. Their mission is to provoke understanding and create human connection. I love their game show-style YouTube content. Will they find the mole? 👀

The Loneliness Economy newsletter 🌻

Thanks for reading! It’s a fun practice for me to write to gather my thoughts on these topics. Share with a friend if you’ve found my words interesting or helpful. Comment below if you have anything to add.