The Bridge: Over 30 & Single: A Black Man's Perspective

By Darryl James

I'm over thirty by more than a notion. I'm also single.

I remember when I was twenty-one, how cool I thought it would be to be a bachelor when I got older. I thought of the married cats with their "same thing different night" routine and how the single cats were suave enough to do their thing with many ladies, yet free enough to do it whenever they wanted, with whomever they wanted to.

But once you've been there for a while, it's really not all that fly.

I thought about it at twenty-one, but it wasn't really a plan. I wanted to be married with children and all that jazz. But it just didn't work out that way. After three failed relationships, I am over thirty and single, living the bachelor's life and I don't always love it.

A married friend recently told me that he envies me. He mused at how great it must be to date different women and to come and go as I please. I assured him that if he thought the grass was greener on the other side, it was because mine is Astroturf--he has real grass.

For all the things I heard about how men were having a blast being single and over thirty, it just wasn't the same once I got here. And for all the things I currently hear about single men over thirty, it's just not the same when you're on the ride.

Currently, I hear how men are commitment-phobic, but I don't really see that. What I see are humans who are adversely affected by failed relationships, and the according crushed hopes and dreams. What I see are humans who have an empty spot where love used to live, and where they hope love once again will flourish. Those humans are men as well as women, and many of them just don't know how to make it happen.

I don't believe that all or most Black women or men are bad people, even though the few bad ones who are the loudest make it appear that way and make some of us react to the truth in weird ways.

I don't believe it when I hear men or women talk about not wanting to be married, or how happy they are being single. If you are telling that lie, then reality is not your friend, and you do not speak for us all. We can be happy with our lives, but happy being single is like being happy without money--you won't die without it, but you know damn well you want it.

Luther Van Dross said it best: "I am not meant to live alone," when he asked her to come and "turn this house into a home." It's true.

I've done the research, so I understand the problem. I've consulted the consultants, so I know what I did wrong and how to make it work out better. I have real coping mechanisms that I've seen work in real life.

But being ready isn't the only challenge.

For some of the very same reasons why many Black women find themselves over thirty and single, many Black men are also looking at the business end of a dream deferred.

My research revealed to me early on that society has changed in some major ways, resulting in less stable communities, which means that there are fewer of us living around each other or working around each other. It's not that there are less men or women than there used to be, or fewer of the "good ones," it's just harder for us to find each other.

It's also harder to look at each other without all of the noise from the unresolved pain that crowds the diaspora.

Those of us who believe that we are among the "good ones," have no difficulty finding nice looking ones, it's just harder to find the more grounded ones with substance as well as style.

So, you may see me with a variety of beautiful women, looking like I'm having a ball. And I may be having fun at the time. But at the end of the day, when she and I realize that we are not meant to be together, and we are sent back out into the world to seek something we hope really does exist, it's not that much fun.

Contrary to the popular myths about Black men, I am not into plentiful casual sex or multiple detached affairs with the flesh of beautiful women. As a Black man who loves Black women and seeks one to have and to hold, I have no problem committing if I believe that it can work out.

I want the love, the laughter, the joy and even the pain that comes from loving and having it out of kilter and then fixing it and having it be right on track. I want the plans to grow old and the plans for the kids' future, the sharing of families and friends and the negotiating through struggles which makes the love stronger.

I want all of these things because being single and over thirty is not as much fun as I thought it would be.

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Darryl James is a syndicated columnist and the author of three books, including "Bridging The Black Gender Gap," a mini-book series on relationships, which is also the basis of his lectures and seminars. James was awarded the 2004 Non-fiction Award for his book on the Los Angeles Riots at the Seventh Annual Black History Month Book Fair and Conference in Chicago. Darryl can be reached at djames@TheBlackGenderGap.com., and back editions of this column can now be viewed at www.bridgecolumn.com.