Stop Living to Die

We Still Have Life to Live

There is a dangerous kind of tiredness moving through our community.

Not the kind of tired that eight hours of sleep can fix.

Not the kind that disappears after a vacation, a good meal, a new relationship, or a bigger paycheck.

I'm talking about soul-level exhaustion.

Too many of us are tired of bills. Tired of taxes. Tired of working harder and somehow feeling further behind. Tired of dating. Tired of being ghosted. Tired of cheating. Tired of lying. Tired of betrayal. Tired of pretending we don't care when we actually care deeply.

We're tired of burying people.

Tired of watching relationships collapse.

Tired of opening social media and seeing another argument, another shooting, another divorce, another scandal, another war, another tragedy, another reason somebody says the world is coming to an end.

And depending on your faith, you may believe the end is approaching. Some are looking toward prophecy. Some are waiting for the rapture. Some are simply looking around at the condition of humanity and asking:

How much longer can this possibly continue?

Some of us aren't waiting for the end anymore.

We've already stopped living.

We're breathing.

We're working.

We're paying bills.

We're scrolling.

We're eating.

We're sleeping.

We're dating occasionally.

We're having sex occasionally.

We're laughing occasionally.

But are we actually living?

Because there is a difference between being alive and participating in your own life.

When Survival Becomes a Lifestyle

As Black Americans, we know something about survival.

Survival has been stitched into our history.

Our ancestors survived things designed to destroy them. Generations survived slavery, segregation, racial terror, displacement, discrimination, poverty, exclusion, violence, and countless attempts to convince them that their humanity was somehow negotiable.

Survival became a skill.

But survival was never supposed to become our permanent residence.

At some point, we have to move from "How do I make it through?"

to: "How do I actually live?"

And that question matters tremendously when we start talking about Black American dating.

Because exhausted people date differently.

People who have been betrayed date differently.

People who expect disappointment date differently.

People who have been abandoned date differently.

People who have been cheated on date differently.

People who have spent years carrying everybody else date differently.

Eventually, you can become so accustomed to protecting yourself that protection turns into isolation.

And isolation can masquerade as peace.

There is a difference between saying, "I have peace."

and saying, "Nobody can hurt me because nobody is allowed close enough."

Those are not the same thing.

Some of Us Aren't Single. We're Exhausted.

There are Black men and women who haven't given up on love because they don't believe in it.

We've given up because we're tired.

That's different.

Somebody has lied to us too many times.

Somebody weaponized our vulnerability.

Somebody manipulated us.

Somebody used us financially.

Somebody made us feel foolish for loving deeply.

Somebody took our patience as permission.

Somebody interpreted kindness as weakness.

Somebody received loyalty and returned disrespect.

So now that person says, "I'm good by myself."

Maybe.

But sometimes "I'm good by myself" really means "I don't know if I have enough left inside me to survive another disappointment."

Because you shouldn't have to become emotionally deceased just because somebody mishandled you.

We Are Carrying Too Much

Think about what the average person is carrying today.

Housing.

Food.

Insurance.

Transportation.

Taxes.

Debt.

Children.

Parents.

Work.

Career expectations.

Health concerns.

Relationship problems.

Social media.

News.

Politics.

War.

Crime.

Racism.

Sexism.

Loneliness.

Expectations.

Comparison.

Grief.

And then there is the invisible, non-tangible category:

our own thoughts.

Sometimes the loudest battlefield isn't outside.

It's between your ears.

You can escape a bad relationship.

You can leave a terrible job.

You can move to another city.

You can delete social media.

You can change your telephone number.

But wherever you go, your mind will stay on this journey with you.

That's why internal peace matters.

Because eventually you have to learn how to sit with yourself without constantly prosecuting yourself.

Stop Living to Die

Some of us have unconsciously adopted a disturbing philosophy:

Just get through today.

Then tomorrow.

Then Friday.

Then payday.

Then vacation.

Then retirement.

Then eventually...

death.

What kind of life is that?

We weren't given consciousness simply to spend decades waiting for everything to be over.

Whether you believe this earthly existence is followed by Heaven, reincarnation, another spiritual plane, or something humanity cannot completely comprehend, one fact remains:

You are experiencing this particular life right now in this realm.

This version.

This body.

This moment.

These opportunities.

These people.

This sunrise.

This laugh.

This conversation.

This chance to love somebody.

This chance to forgive somebody.

This chance to become somebody.

Don't become so obsessed with escaping tomorrow that you forget to experience today.

And Please, Violence Is Not the Answer

Our exhaustion cannot become an excuse for destruction.

Our pain cannot become permission to create more pain.

Violence does not heal loneliness.

Violence does not repair betrayal.

Violence does not restore trust.

Violence does not create healthy masculinity.

Violence does not create healthy femininity.

Violence does not rebuild families.

Violence multiplies wounds.

We have enough funerals.

Enough memorial shirts.

Enough candles.

Enough mothers crying.

Enough fathers grieving.

Enough children growing up asking why somebody never came home.

Enough people sitting inside prison cells realizing that fifteen seconds of rage altered forty years of their lives.

We need another revolution.

A revolution of peace.

A revolution of emotional regulation.

A revolution of accountability.

A revolution of affection.

A revolution where Black men can hug each other without questioning masculinity.

Where Black women don't have to carry everything because everybody assumes they can.

Where men can say, "I'm hurting."

Where women can say, "I'm exhausted."

Where couples can say, "We need help."

Where somebody can walk away from an argument and return when their nervous system isn't preparing for war.

That's strength.

Love Should Not Feel Like Another Job You Hate

Relationships require work.

But there's a difference between working on something and constantly fighting against something.

Your relationship should not be the place where you clock into another eight-hour shift.

Home should have some peace in it.

Dating should have some laughter in it.

Marriage should have some friendship in it.

Sex should have some intimacy in it.

Conversation should have some curiosity in it.

Commitment should have some security in it.

And love should occasionally be ridiculously simple.

Sitting on the couch.

Sharing food.

Listening to music.

Driving nowhere.

Laughing until somebody snorts.

Holding hands.

Watching the sunset.

Taking a trip.

Cooking together.

Making love.

Praying together.

Building something.

Doing absolutely nothing together and somehow feeling like you did everything.

We have made relationships so complicated that sometimes we forget why people wanted them in the first place.

Companionship.

I choose you.

You choose me.

And while the world outside may occasionally be chaotic, we're going to try our best not to become another source of chaos for each other.

Stop Punishing New People for Old People's Crimes

Somebody new walks into your life and immediately inherits a debt they never created.

Your ex destroyed your softness, so now everybody is suspicious.

Your ex lied, so every inconsistency becomes evidence.

Your ex abandoned you, so whenever the new person becomes quiet, abandonment alarms start ringing.

Your ex manipulated you, so genuine kindness feels suspicious.

Your ex love-bombed you, so affection feels dangerous.

Your ex controlled you, so healthy accountability feels oppressive.

That's how yesterday starts dating tomorrow.

Healing doesn't mean forgetting.

It means learning enough from what happened so you don't let it control everything that comes next.

Wisdom says: "I remember."

Trauma sometimes says: "Therefore, everybody is guilty." (Cloaked in self-preservation)

We have to learn the difference.

Give Yourself Permission to Enjoy Being Alive

Go somewhere.

See something.

Learn something.

Dance badly.

Eat something you can't pronounce.

Call somebody you've been thinking about.

Tell somebody you love them.

Take pictures.

Make memories.

Get dressed for absolutely no reason.

Go outside.

Sit near some water.

Travel if you can.

Read.

Write.

Create.

Build.

Mentor somebody.

Help somebody.

Laugh loudly.

Cry when necessary.

Forgive when appropriate.

Set boundaries when necessary.

Leave when required.

Stay when something is worth repairing.

And love.

Love intelligently.

Love carefully.

Love courageously.

Love yourself enough that being alone doesn't destroy you, but don't become so committed to independence that nobody can ever participate in your life. Nor take the latter and allow your options to cloud you due to your fear of commitment, fear of vulnerability, or desire to activate your anxious or avoidant attachment.

There is a balance.

Black Love Still Matters

Despite everything we've experienced, I still believe Black love matters.

Black friendship matters.

Black families matter.

Black fathers matter.

Black mothers matter.

Black husbands matter.

Black wives matter.

Healthy Black relationships matter.

And healthy Black single people matter too.

The objective isn't simply to put everybody into relationships.

The objective is to create healthier people capable of healthier relationships.

Because wounded people don't automatically heal simply by falling in love.

Sometimes they create a battlefield.

Many of us have observed a person who is passively screaming for help, but we hide in the frame of "I don't know them like that" and allow the person to drown. If you are human and breathing, then you are here for somebody else, not yourself. Help them in a way that is safe for you, but do something.

I digress.

The goal is to get to a place where we are willing to examine ourselves, communicate, apologize, learn, adjust, forgive, establish boundaries, and grow.

Now we have possibilities.

Maybe the World Is Ending. Maybe It Isn't.

People have predicted the end of the world for generations.

One day, unquestionably, our individual time here will end.

That alone should make life more valuable, not less.

If the clock is ticking, love harder.

If tomorrow isn't promised, live today.

If you're tired, rest.

If you're hurting, heal.

If you're lonely, connect.

If you're wrong, apologize.

If you're angry, don't destroy your future over a temporary emotion.

If you love somebody, tell them.

If something is destroying your peace, address it.

If you're still breathing, there is still something available to you:

Possibility.

We cannot spend our entire existence preparing to die.

At some point, we have to start preparing to live.

And perhaps that's what our community needs right now.

Not another gender war.

Not another argument about Black men versus Black women.

Not another viral relationship expert convincing us that everybody is narcissistic, toxic, low-value, masculine, feminine, dusty, broken, damaged, or unworthy.

Maybe we need something considerably more radical.

Peace.

Love.

Accountability.

Patience.

Affection.

Community.

Happiness.

Life.

Because despite everything we've survived, everything we've lost, everything we've witnessed, and everything we're carrying...

we are still here.

And as long as we're still here, the question shouldn't only be: "When will this all be over?"

Maybe the better question is:

"What am I going to do with the life I still have?"

Don't merely survive long enough to die.

Live long enough to discover why you're still here.

Peace. Love. Happiness.

And while you still have breath...live.

Exhaust all the possibilities.