The Challenges of Dating as a Black Female Adolescent: A Personal Reflection on the Need for Transparency Between Parents and Daughters

By: Tshepang Pooe

I’ve been dating my boyfriend for about seven months now, and we’ve come to a point in our relationship where we’re going to have to learn to be away from each other for really long periods of time without losing our commitment to one another. I don’t anticipate that to be a problem though; we haven’t exactly had the fortune of seeing one another on a regular basis. At this point this may not seem out of the ordinary considering I haven’t mentioned the fact that we were virtually only fifteen minutes away from each other for the majority of our seven months thus far.

So the question then arises: How is it that two people in love could go for weeks on end without seeing one another when they were just a short fifteen minutes apart? I guess there’s really quite a simple answer to that question: we were both raised in black homes, with parents who seem to think that two teenagers dating is one of the seven deadly sins. Okay, I may be exaggerating just a bit, but our parents did play a role in our long periods of separation, and they still do.

This brings me to an issue which not only pervades my love life, but the love lives of many other black female adolescents. There seems to be a culture of distrust and skepticism between the black female adolescent and her parents. This not only applies to females, but males too, however for the purposes of this discussion, I’m presenting my argument from a female perspective.

I was raised by a loving and caring mother, who to my surprise, prioritizes openness when it comes to my relationships. She’s constantly asking me about my boyfriend, lately all she seems to ask about is how we’ll be together whilst studying in different provinces. Despite my gratitude at my mother’s acceptance of my love affair, I can’t help but wince at the frequent, mostly one-sided discussions, of my ongoing relationship. Owing to this feeling of discomfort, I’ve had to ask myself why it is that I don’t possess the same openness as my mother.

When one compares the relationships of black female adolescents with those of their white counterparts, one notices a few distinct differences; white parents are usually incredulously embracing of their daughters’ love affairs and openly invite their partners to share with them holidays abroad, and various other significant events in their families’ lives. The white female adolescent’s partner meets her grandparents and is celebrated by her entire family.

This is completely the opposite of my own experience with my own family’s embrace, or lack thereof, of my boyfriend, in addition to all my black female friends’ personal experiences. When it comes to dating, black girls master the art of living double lives. We don’t speak of our love lives at home; instead we pretend not even to notice that the male species exists alongside us.

When we get the chance, on the rare occasion, to meet with our beloved partners, we lie to our families and recite a long list of friends who won’t be sitting next to us while we make out with our boyfriends in the movie cinema. I don’t exactly feel proud of my double agent tactic, however it is a necessary measure.

The lengths to which I have often had to go to maintain my relationship have lead me to question the relevance of the lack of transparency between the black female adolescent and her parents with regards to dating. I’ve thought about this for some time, trying to think of reasons as to why we face this conundrum in the first place. My first thought leads me to my own experiences, or lack thereof, of witnessing open displays of affection between a man and a woman within the households in which I was raised.

As I ponder this thought, it dawns on me that the most affection I witnessed between a man a woman was on television, and most often between white couples. In support of this realization is a podcast which I heard live on the radio, in which was discussed black romance, and the lack of a culture which celebrates black sexuality and love-making between black couples. And so, with this, I’ve also had the realization that my mother, luckily for me, is not the problem.

The problem originates from a social paradigm in which the black woman is not identified as the sensual and sexual being that she is. The problem originates from identifying the black woman solely with her role as the caregiver of her several children, abandoned by their father, who time and time again returned home in a drunken state and failed to put bread on the table.

The problem also originates from identifying the black woman solely as a victim of racial violence, in addition to the sexual offences she suffers time and time again at the hands of the men in her life. The social history which has defines the black woman is the reason, in my understanding, for which black women are not celebrated for their profound ability to love and function as sensual beings.

And so we, the black female adolescents, are born into a culture in which we are unable to express, or act on our desire to be loved. We are born into a culture in which having a healthy romantic relationship at a young age should not even be considered to be a priority. I find this to be quite problematic.

As I mentioned earlier, I’m in a steady relationship. I love my boyfriend and he loves me too, and so naturally we’ve made love to one another on more than one occasion. Naturally, I haven’t been able to tell my mother about this; as much as I thought it was important at first , I haven’t been able to muster the courage to tell her. I fear that, somewhere somehow, she’ll judge me for losing my virginity at eighteen years old with a guy I’m nowhere close to marrying.

I’m confident in the decision I made to share myself with him so intimately, however, I can’t help but fear that there would be even a trace of shame or disappointment if my mom found out about this. Honestly speaking, I don’t consider it to be her fault that I am not so open about such matters, as she does often attempt to establish an environment in which we share such information.

I do think however, that the points I’ve raised earlier are part of the reason that I, in addition to many other black female adolescents in the same circumstances that I face, are unable to express this part of their lives with their parents.

The point I want to make here is that I’m lucky to have an embracing mother. However, for the young black women who face parents who won’t even fathom allowing their daughters to explore romance, this black culture of a lack of romantic celebration may be quite a danger. For example, I know that by now, considering that I am sexually active, I should have consulted with a gynecologist and considered going onto the pill. However, with this lack of transparency, I haven’t been able to do that.

This places possible health implications which would be worsened if I was carelessly having sex with any guy I met. Thank goodness that isn’t the case. However I live in a country, South Africa, in which the rate of teenage pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases is sky high. So, for the sake of another example, let’s say I were to fall pregnant and decide to terminate the pregnancy, I would probably end up having an unsafe abortion in an attempt to maintain my life as a 007 apprentice, and land up with extreme health implications, if not death. I’m certain this is not a rare case, despite the fact that I have no facts to support my claim.

So I guess the fact that it’s such a mission for me to see my boyfriend without being interrogated by my mother is really the least of the problems which could arise from the paradigm which has shoved me into this corner. In my case, I accept full responsibility for my situation; ultimately it is my choice to continue on this murky path. But I do consider this to be a serious problem; one that needs to be addressed and calls for an intervention between black parents and their young daughters.

It’s time for a change within the black community. Young black female adolescents are desperate for liberation. We need the freedom to express and explore our sensuality in a free and nurturing environment. We need the liberation not only to identify with the historic, yet prevalent social struggles of our mothers, grandmothers and great grandmothers, but also to identify with an aspect of the black woman which has been silenced for far too long. Black women, just like women of any other racial group, desire love.

We need a space in which we can share our joy at finding a good and loving man, with whom to share our lives, with our families. Love, whether young or old, black, colored, Indian or white, should be rejoiced and not hidden. This is the change which I want to see within the black community.