As I looked at the unread text for the third time, I couldn’t help but let two thoughts dance through my mind. One, she is no longer interested. And two, why did I go out with her in the first place?

It was yet another night of dating a great woman—someone I knew I wasn’t compatible with. This made me ask a bigger question: why would I entertain this? The answer was simple—because I could.

As a kid, probably like many other Black men, I was shy—not having fully embraced my confidence or myself. However, as time went on, I gained an incredible education and a lot more confidence, and I finally evolved into the outgoing and emotionally intelligent butterfly God had always known I would be.

These positive attributes put me in the distinguished category of a “good Black man.” In other words, being in spaces with Black women as a man who had a respected education, was not creepy or sexist, and who supported women’s empowerment, made me one of the few very eligible bachelors in a dating pool of very many eligible bachelorettes.

At first, it was fun. As someone who is attracted to Black women from a cultural and social perspective—not just a sexual one—the company of the Black women I dated was refreshing and recharging. However, what I started to realize is that, at some point, dating a multitude of Black women became more about the consumption of great experiences with women instead of building genuine connections.

Through years of research and therapy, I realized that growing up without confidence in myself—and without many dating options—created a negative connection to loneliness. I did not want to be alone. Romantically, I found loneliness difficult in general, even when I was dating. Now, in my 30s, dating has become a way to fill the void of loneliness I experienced growing up.

Some may wonder what the big deal is about casually dating and what the implications may be, especially for Black men. The problem—in my life and in that of other Black men who consider themselves “eligible bachelors”—is that we are still not any happier as men. One study showed that young men living in individualistic cultures were more vulnerable not only to frequent loneliness but also to loneliness that was more intense and longer-lasting than that of their women counterparts. So, in a country such as America, which is known for its individualism, young Black men may be at more risk of feeling lonely.

However, for Black men seeking long-term partners one day, loneliness could mean valuable time alone for reflection, healing, and growth. It could be developmental solitude.

Now, why is this important for Black men in particular? Black men have a different history with our masculinity than other races in America. We have been unfairly persecuted, and intentionally associated with hypercriminality and hypersexuality throughout history. Due to this unjust treatment, young Black men are navigating systems that have historically betrayed them mentally and emotionally. Many of us are failing to address the impact of this reality on us—both before and during the dating process.

So what do we, as Black men, do about this? Well, we can take this navigation seriously, or we can put our heads down and ignore it.

I suggest we do the former, for a few reasons. First, studies show “time alone and the ability to activate associated brain networks is an essential foundation for the healthy development of cognitive control, emotional regulation, and personal insight” (Immordino-Yang, Christodoulou, & Singh, 2012). Furthermore, time alone helps us “disconnect from external pressures and stresses, and tune into earnest intentions for creating the life we desire.” In a country that has proven itself ill-equipped to support our psychological well-being and growth by default, Black men must take the time, at some point in their lives, to deal with any insecurities, fears, or concerns they have.

I want us, as Black men, to ask ourselves if we have taken the time alone needed to truly understand the motivation behind how we date. Maybe some of us are fighting insecurities from our younger selves like I was; maybe we were taught being a man was about how many partners we could “casually engage” with; maybe it was something else entirely. What is certain, though, is that Black men have to take the obstacles to their mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being in America seriously.

Taking the time to be alone and figure out who you want to be—both individually and in a relationship—will enhance every aspect of your life, including dating. We are worthy of a beautiful life, and we are strong enough to take the initiative to achieve it.

For any Black man who chooses this journey, know this: even if you are doing the work of self-healing by yourself, you are never alone.

 

Authorship Note: This essay was written by me, Dr. Ashton Pemberton, and reflects my personal experience and perspective as a Black man navigating dating, loneliness, and emotional healing. All content, voice, and message are my own.