Swirling Singles

One Letter Writer’s Experience Being the Only Black Girl and NOT Being ‘Invisible.’

There’s very few letters I get that move me to immediate action, but this one did. Once you read it you’ll understand why. I bolded the moral of this letter because I want you to sear it into your psyche, ladies. The writer has inspired me to do MORE in educating this audience about how black women can get noticed in such settings. I’ll be quick to tell you I don’t have all the answers, but I have a nose like a bulldog, and I’m kick arse about fetching them for you.



Often, in questions, or comments, your readers ask: how to be noticed by rainbeaus, how to be attractive to them, and how not to be invisible. I have a shocking new theory, attraction isn’t the issue. Well, not really. Attraction is purely chemical, it is thousands of years of programming hardwired into DNA. If they’re attracted to you, they know it instantly and it is processed within seconds (unconsciously) and typically physiological evidence is produced within moments.


A few nights ago I attended a costume party and wouldn’t you know I was the only speck of color in the place. That didn’t really bother me, it wasn’t altogether uncommon. My costume was hot, and I looked hot in it. Initially I gathered this because most of the girls looked at me gave a halfhearted smile and asked who I was supposed to be, (not too many people know who Princess Tiana is, sadly) and a cool “oh nice” before walking away. I looked better than nice, my airbrushed make-up was flawless, my hair was in its most perfect bun, and my legs looked like they’d been poured into my stockings. I was a walking wet dream… It’s okay, all the boys noticed, and were happy to play the “hope she doesn’t see me staring game”. It isn’t that they don’t look, if they are attracted then they do. It’s whether they act on that attraction. Enter the hottest guy in the room, and thankfully, he’s wearing no pants.

Initially, he was happy to say hello and merely observe, and my insecurities made me believe that that was it. But the friend who invited me said he was her friends ex, and strictly off limits. Why would she tell me that…unless…maybe, possibly, she noticed a look in his eye? Surely she wouldn’t think I stood a chance, I was among Wonder Woman, witches, and minions. Surely a princess wasn’t his flavor in the overwhelming garden of variety.  Either way, we spoke randomly and then…a little more. I didn’t understand why he was only wearing a short robe and a hat; it was something from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation circa 1989, which he was happy to explain. Then we danced, and I was officially the life of the party. What can I say, this girl’s got moves.  It wasn’t a big deal, I had to leave to take care of responsibilities and wasn’t sure if I was going back. I said my goodbyes, and the beautiful rainbeau said “bye” pretty nonchalantly. I did go back. Good thing too.


Had I not gone back, he speaking and dancing with me would’ve been seen as merely being “social” in my head. I would’ve characterized it as a fluke, a whim. The party thinned out, but several of his lady admirers were still around. As soon as I came back in, his total attention was on me. He was surprised to see me back, and I was surprised that he cared. The admirers noticed and started quietly slinking away as his attention didn’t veer the rest of the evening. He went on to tell me, emphatically, that he thought I was extremely attractive, and the most beautiful girl at the party. We danced, we laughed, and we talked. My nerdiness was showing, but then again, so was his… then he kissed me. I’ve kissed a lot of toads lately, but this was a frog, one who may very well turn into a prince.


My point is, I would love to see an article about girls getting out of their own heads, and I’m normally one of them that would need such sage advice. However my adventures in swirling have led me to this startling revelation. There are the boys, the ones that will look, and never touch. Then there are men, the ones that pull you around a corner, kiss you senseless, and admit they’ve wanted to do that since you graced the place with your presence. We’re beautiful. And yes, an angel fish in a sea full of trout may be seen as exotic. Own it, and make waves for those coming after you.



The Life of the Party

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