The joy of black women as friends
The joy of black women as friends
My favorite part about “Insecure,” ABC’s “Queens,” BET’s “Twenties” and more
Sunday has become one of my favorite nights. It reminds me of my teen years in the ’90s. It’s HBO “Insecure” night. More importantly, it’s a night when I can celebrate black women in friendships — real ones. In one of two “We Need to Talk” podcast episodes with another Medium writer, I discussed why I was so uncomfortable with the direction “Insecure” was going in last season. If I could do it all over again, I’d have rephrased what I was trying to say, especially considering Molly and Issa are back to being as good of friends as Kelli and Tiffany.
My argument at the time was that I was drained from watching frenemies. We have enough of them on the “Love & Hip Hop” series, “Real Housewives of Atlanta” and the train wreck of a show that is “Joseline’s Cabaret.” I deeply miss shows of the ’90s when I watched sistas be real friends and have each other’s backs.
I was amped to watch shows like “Living Single,” “A Different World,” “Martin,” “Girlfriends” and “One on One.” Yes, Gina and Pam, Whitley and Kim, Freddie and Kim, Gina and Lena, Khadijah and Maxine, Denise and Jaleesa, Joan and Lynn, Joan and Maya, and Spirit and Breanna had their moments of bickering. But you couldn’t tell me these duos weren’t homegirls. I loved that. Part of me enjoyed it because I flocked to hanging out with guys my entire life.
I didn’t have any biological sisters. I’d hang out with my godsisters, girls from my Girl Scout troop and a neighborhood friend every now and then, but I still spent a considerable amount of time with the fellas — my older brother, my older brother’s friends, a whole flood of neighborhood boys on my block (two in particular — one of which I dated later in life and the other passed away while I was in college), and some male co-workers who I stayed in touch with for decades.
I even ended up being cool with people I was just interviewing for magazines and newspapers. They’d show up to Chicago for some business opportunity and hit me up to hang out. I am used to hanging out with men who I very, very rarely fall out with — give or take the pathetic ones.