Polygamy — I’m gonna take a pass on that, and here’s why…
02 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
You know, I hear a lot of talk about how Black men have recently decided they want to “explore polygamy”. Suddenly one wife isn’t good enough. Men say don’t want the stigma of having one family on one side of town and another family on the other side; they have decided that isn’t necessary. He can just bring his two wives and families together as one big happy communal unit. That way the man can be honest, enjoy the two women he cares for, and help raise the children of those unions.
Now I put “explore polygamy” in quotes because honestly, I have talked to a fair number of Black men, and what I have found is men who want to have sex with a large variety of women — as many women as possible. The large majority of them aren’t actually interested in creating a family unit in which they would be required to play a crucial supportive role as husband to several women. They do not want to provide familiar, financial, emotional or spiritual shelter and comfort to more than one woman because they happen to have found more than one woman they want to do that for. Most of them can’t successfully do any of those things for one woman to be perfectly honest. And let’s be even more honest – the large majority of these men want multiple sex partners with no strings attached, and with no complaints from the multiple women they are having sex with. These men figure if they “practicing polygamy”, and let the women know this, if she agrees to go along with it, its okay. It concerns me that the increasing talk about polygamy as a viable option for women serves to offer an excuse for men who are simply seeking ways to be promiscuous without being called on it by women.
As a woman in general, and as a Black woman in particular, I get SO TIRED of everyone telling me I am not enough. Me, just me…only me, I am not enough. I’m too light, or too dark. Too loud, or too quiet. Too demanding ,or too acquiescing. Too fat, or too skinny. Too arrogant, or too unassuming. Too smart or not smart enough. My hair is too short, too nappy, too fake, too long, too short. Ass too big. Ass not big enough. Tits too small, too big, too saggy, too round. There is always something I am lacking, or have too much of, that gives the world an excuse to ignore me, devalue me, humiliate me, something, always something, that lets me know that me, as God divinely made me, with all my faults and shortcomings and beauty and strength is not enough. When it comes to a man to be satisfied, fulfilled, to get what is required or necessary, he finds what I provide is insufficient. I am not enough, the world says, as they pass me over for others. I am not a full enough measure, no matter what glory is in me. Sometimes it seems that nothing exists to reflect me in such a complete way that I am able to fill it to overflowing with myself, and my abundance is all that is necessary, because it is enough. And then I come to you Black man, with all the rejection of the world bowing my head and slumping my shoulders, and I turn to you, hoping to see maybe a glimmer of the beauty I sense is still in me deep down somewhere reflected in your eyes. Hoping maybe you can be satisfied with me, just me, only me. But even you say I’m not enough. You need another, and another, and another.
This is why I need monogamy. Because I want there to be someplace in my life where me, just me, imperfect me, is enough. Period. I need a place in my life that is MINE, only mine, just for me, that is not for the village, for the masses, for the nation. Just for me, a place custom fitted to hold my burdens and make them light. A place where I can be weak and worn in private. Matthew Chapter 6, verses 5 and 6 say “But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret.” This is what I want with my man. My secret closet, where I shut my door, and pray, confess, recharge, relax. A place I don’t have to share with the next woman.
I think maybe men don’t understand how hard it is to be a woman, a woman of color, in the world. Maybe they get so caught up in their own struggles, and I do recognize they struggle in a way that I will never understand as a woman. I fully acknowledge that. But I think they never stop to consider a woman’s unique burdens. I don’t think men get that a woman is called on to serve the world and everything in it, and all she wants in return is a single heart in which her spirit can rest privately, because no one else is there but her, and men, using whatever excuses are popular this week, will deny her that.
The new polygamy excuse is particularly troubling to me because it tends to evoke “the motherland” as its justification, talking about how many African tribes have historically practiced various versions of polygamy. I always have to point out that in times past, a man was a necessity for a woman in a way that doesn’t exist now, because in those times past life was very physically demanding for both men and women. Many of the activities of daily living consisted of tasks requiring great physical strength, and a strong, able-bodied man was best suited for these tasks, so a woman needed a husband, and to ensure all the woman of a village were cared for, one man would have to care for several women. That isn’t the case anymore. Then I have to point out that there are African tribes who practice polyandry, which is a woman having more than one husband, and I suggest that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. When my desire for multiple partners comes into question, and I offer up the same “well if it’s good enough for the motherland it’s good enough or me” excuse, that isn’t acceptable.
It is my sincere hope I will find someone who feels what I am is enough…he doesn’t require “standbys”, “stand-ins”, “understudies”, “supporting casts”, “backups”, “Plan Bs”, or whatever he wants to call them. My life as a woman in modern days and times is a very burdened one. It is challenging. It is difficult. It seeks to wear me down, wear me out, tear me apart each and every day. I honestly don’t have the time or the inclination to spread my precious intimacy among a group of people. I need my intimate circle to be a table for two and only two. And if that is too much to ask well…you probably need to find someplace else to sit.
