Check the Cart Before You Check the Heart

What is in your cart?

Black American relationships have always required a sixth sense. Not because love is scarce, but because survival taught us how to read patterns, budgets, tone, silence, and intention all at once. Our grandparents checked hands, not rings. Our parents checked work ethic, not vibes. Now, in the age of Prime delivery and next-day desire, the truth might be hiding in something small and unromantic: the Amazon cart.

Hear me out before you log off laughing.

The cart is a mirror. Not of what someone wants, but of what they think they need. And that distinction matters more than chemistry ever will. Desire is loud. Need is honest.

Before you can judge anyone else’s cart, though, you have to know your own. Not your wish list. Not your “one day when I get my money right” fantasy. Your real needs. Peace. Stability. Growth. Rest. Direction. If you don’t know that, you’ll confuse impulse with alignment and call it love.

Now, when you peek at someone’s cart, don’t rush to conclusions. A leader often has a light cart. Not empty—just intentional. Replacement items. Tools. Things that solve problems. That doesn’t automatically mean maturity, but it’s a good opening sentence in the story. On the flip side, a full cart doesn’t always mean chaos. Sometimes it means they’re preparing, stocking up, planning ahead. Context is king.

What you’re watching for is pattern, not quantity.

Compulsion looks different than preparation. Disorganization smells different than abundance. Some people spend because they’re irresponsible. Some people spend because they’re tired of feeling limited and have finally found relief. Some people save because they’re disciplined. Some people save because they’re afraid. Same action. Different root.

But the real truth doesn’t live in the cart. It lives in the purchase history.

That’s where the ancestors lean in.

If you see endless batteries, toys, snacks, and midnight comforts, that might indicate loneliness, avoidance, or a pursuit of dopamine. Not a crime—but a clue. If food dominates the list, ask yourself whether this person expresses their feelings through eating instead of speaking them. If pleasure consistently replaces purpose, that’s not a red flag—it’s a conversation waiting to happen.

Now let’s talk about the real menace.

The 70% return rate.

That’s not a strategy. That’s chaos with a refund policy. That’s someone who orders first, thinks later, and calls it “winning the system.” Laugh if you want, but that person didn’t unlock the game—they’re rehearsing how to exit accountability. Today it’s Amazon.

Tomorrow it’s you.

I’m joking… but I’m not.

Then there are the schemers. The professional “just holding on.” The ones who stay broke spiritually, emotionally, and financially while waiting for someone else to be the stimulus package. Add to that the genuinely homeless—emotionally or materially—and the proudly broke who wear dysfunction like authenticity. Love doesn’t mean rescuing. Love means choosing wisely.

Black love has never been about perfection. It’s about partnership under pressure. About two people who know what they need, know what they bring, and aren’t secretly hoping the other person will cover their gaps while calling it romance.

So yes, check the vibes. Check the communication. Check the values.

But also… check the cart.

Because sometimes the loudest truth isn’t in what someone says they’re building with you—it’s in what they’ve been ordering all along.

The universe leaves receipts.