I love men. But they hate me.

And I’m saying that with a fragile heart that I think is breaking. The chinks in my armor are becoming full-blown holes and I am tired. Let me explain.

Every time there’s a new year, people spend some time talking about what they learned over the past year. I learned that I am stronger than I thought, and that transition is necessary. I am a better writer than I’ve ever been in my life and I’m more and more a believer in love, in passion, in forever–even though I haven’t had the best romantic experiences. But that’s where my heartbreak rolls in. Because another thing I learned, in 2015, is that there are large numbers of men, staggeringly large numbers of men, obscenely large numbers of men… who hate me. And I don’t mean me personally (although that may be the case, who knows?). I mean women. In 2015, I have never before, in my life, had my eyes open to how many men… hate women. Don’t get me wrong. They love pussy. They’ll fuck you clear to next Tuesday. But they hate WOMEN. And I mean hate us in the sense that they don’t believe us, respect us, fight for us. The #BlackLivesMatter hashtag/ organization was started by three women; women are the forefront of every hashtag on Twitter, every march, every protest. But a lot of our men… hate us. They won’t fight for us. They don’t care when we’ve been assaulted, raped, shortchanged. THEY. DON’T. CARE. And that has been the hardest pill to swallow. Because I love them so much. Too much. And they hate me.

Let me just spend a few minutes and tell you how much I love my men. I. LOVE. THEM. In every shade of brown, every body type, every piece and part. I love the way they walk, and talk. I love how cool and confident they are. How intelligent and funny they are. How sexy and talented they are. I love their laughter and tears. I love their strength and stability. Black men have been the arms that cradled me, the hands and mouths that drove me out of my mind with lust, the force field around me, protecting me. I love them so much. I would give my life, with no hesitation, for the ones that I love, no question. I have risked my heart with them again and again, because to me there’s no one better. Do y’all hear what I’m saying? My men are everything to me. If there is a world without them, I don’t want to know it.

But… they hate me. They hate us. And it’s breaking my heart. Because I don’t want to give them up. I don’t want to walk away. I love them in spite of everything. But it’s killing me. It gives me so much pause. How can I fight for women, loving these men so deeply when they hate me? Does that mean I have Stockholm Syndrome? Isn’t that what it means to be in love with your abuser? It’s some crazy shit, having to come to the realization that SO MANY of our men hate us.

If you don’t believe me, social media is a great tool. It exposes the inner thoughts of people better than alcohol ever did. This Cosby situation has turned my whole mind around. I mean, the amount of men who are caping for him, justifying him being a serial rapist, finding ways to discredit and disrespect the women–it’s disgusting. I mean, this is my Facebook we’re talking about. I thought I knew these people. But the sheer number of them who are twisted enough to think that this is some sort of a plot against Bill Cosby is ridiculous. And they believe it. And it shows how much they hate women. They won’t even fight for us. Believe us. THEY DON’T BELIEVE US WHEN WE TELL THEM WE’VE BEEN ASSAULTED. They won’t believe women–they call us liars to protect the image of a FICTIONAL FUCKING CHARACTER ON A TV SHOW. If that’s not hatred, I don’t know what is. Cosby hasn’t done a thing for them except be a man like they are. And for that, he is worthy of their protection–and rape victims are not. Because they’re women. The hatred runs so strong.

Another example–Twitter started off 2016 with a bang and had the child support discussion again. If you could see these men, so angry about having to provide for lives that they helped to create-it would make you sick. And as soon as they are given facts, they counter with insults. The disrespect, the widespread asshole comments. Apparently these women are all greedy whores who just want as much money as they can get. Never mind that it costs THOUSANDS of dollars to raise children. Never mind that some of these men are actually happy to not have to do the day-to-day with their kids; that some of them are perfectly content being weekend/ holiday dads. AND never mind that there are a ton of ways to prevent pregnancy if you don’t want to provide for your children. Never mind all of that. They just blame the women right away. They go on the attack, they say the most awful things. They are so busy hating the women they don’t say ANYTHING about the children. And this is a manifestation of their true feelings. This is how they see us. They hate us. It’s mind blowing. And heartbreaking. Some of them even try to convince you that they’re the “good” ones because they love their mothers, and sisters, and daughters. But if the only women you can think to respect are the ones you know personally, then maybe you hate women too. Because we’re everywhere, bruh. Not just in your family.

Now like I said, these men love pussy. Make no mistake. They love to fuck us. But they hate us. And even that comes with crazy strings and extra expectations. Because some men will love your body when they’re long stroking you, and then judge you for knowing how to fuck. Some of these men will want your mouth on their dicks and then throw that in your face and call you a whore when they’re angry with you. They think the number of partners you’ve had determines how much you’re worth, and how worthy you are of respect. Those men… hate me. Hate us. And they’re everywhere. In much larger numbers than I ever thought.

You want to know what’s the worse? When other women jump right in their corner. When other women say sexual assault victims are lying (even though less than 2% of all reports are proven false), when OTHER WOMEN help these men hate us. That wrenches my guts, I swear. That’s the worst part of it. Now, I don’t want you to think that I don’t know there are trash ass people in the world. I KNOW. But when the men, that I love, so much, see me as the enemy, I’m heartbroken. Because where does that leave me? These will be the men in the world that I will be asking to love me, to build with me, to create with me. And when women, fall in line with men who abuse, and disrespect women. Who trap and imprison women. Who don’t protect women (and girls). When WOMEN fall in line with these men, it’s a punch in the fucking stomach. I mean, what’s going on here? Am I in the fucking twilight zone? I’d hate to think 2015 is the year I dropped my optimism completely, but maybe my rose-colored glasses just shattered and broke. Only took 35 years. Go figure.

I need to say to my black men… that I still love you. I still love you. I know it’s not every one of you and I still love you. But I’m so disappointed. And my heart is breaking. Because the number of you who don’t love me back is a bigger number than I thought. I guess I need to wrap tight in the love that’s real. It’s getting harder to find though.