Precious and The Color Purple

No, this is not the title of a new children's book, nor is it a comparative analysis of the two movies.

The movies depict black women at their lowest point and bring them to their somewhat happy ending. Here's the problem, in the middle before that happy ending (if there is one) is a long bout of depression, insecurity and hatred for ourselves.

I live and work in Los Angeles, yet I was born and raised in Chicago. I was having lunch with a friend of mine on Saturday and we had an interesting conversation about black folks here vs. black folks in the Midwest or the east (yes, we lumped the two together since their attitudes are similar). We wholeheartedly admitted it was harder and took longer to acclimate ourselves to the Los Angeles scene. Coming from Chicago, the "no non-sense" and "mean-what-you-say" town, we've found the black folks here (in Los Angeles, just in case I dropped you with that last sentence); out impression of the black folks here (some of them...can't generalize!) is that they "seem" to be cold, insecure,unforgiving and single. On the positive, other than the weather, black women here seem to be more health conscious.

The struggle for this black woman has not been an easy one. Having a black first lady has not eased what most of us still have to contend with and overcome on a daily basis. I have been through things that would make a weaker-willed person think twice about living (no offense to those not as strong as myself). I find everyday I am having to prove myself in one way or another. Where is my happy ending?

Why do we hate each other and ourselves so much? Black women are the most beautiful in the world (yep, I said it), yet our level of confidence is so low that we hurt ourselves and each other. Why?