I am a gay black man from Houston, Texas. Beyoncé is my Lord and gyrator. She is the beginning, end and body roll to me
In the past, my dating life was a mix of Frank Ocean’s Bad Religion and the sadder Mary J Blige songs that you can somehow still dance to. As I’ve gotten older, I have been more vigilant about noticing the signs that a man might be a loser and promptly taking the exit ramp.
I will never date another person who does not like Beyoncé.
If there is one mistake I made repeatedly in the past, it was looking past this fatal flaw. Of all the men I’ve dated, the worst have all disliked Queen Bey.
I am a gay black man from Houston, Texas. Beyoncé is my Lord and gyrator. She is the beginning, end and body roll to me. I should have known better than to ever bother with such haters.
Before I started rejecting Beyoncé haters, I first tried dating some men with the fatal flaw by avoiding the subject. More than once, one tried to pick a fight with me about Beyoncé. They knew I bow down to Queen Bey, but they tried, still, to coerce me into standing on the wrong side of history. Remember that New York Times review of her debut album entitled: “The Solo Beyoncé: She’s No Ashanti?” Who wants to end up sounding that ridiculous?
However, as an original member of the #Beyhive (its editorial director, if you will), I’ve long known that some people will fight a good thing. So I gave some men the benefit of the doubt, thinking that I could help them blossom into Beyoncé lovers – starting with the B’Day album. Because seriously, how can you not like Beyoncé? To me, if you don’t love Beyoncé, you don’t love yourself. You don’t have to be a super fan, but if you don’t like at least five Beyoncé songs, I don’t trust your judgment.
That sounds crazy to Beyoncé deniers, whom I refer to as Beythiests. Often times, these folks are the types who want to be “different.” Contrarians for sport are right up there with Donald Trump supporters as some of the worst types of humans. They tend to want attention and have some desperate longing to feel special.
I’m not saying every man I meet in the future has to come with me to the next Beyoncé concert (I have a best friend for that anyway), but you will not question why I spent so much money on her concert tickets. If anything, you should ask if you should sell some of your plasma to help me get better seats. And when she drops new music, you must accept that this is a moment for me to cherish instead of another chance for you to criticize. I am nowhere near marriage, but my future partner must be prepared for the strong chance that I’ll play 7/11 every day for the rest of my life.
culled- theguardian
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