FEW things in life are more irritating than the unsolicited comments I get that black women, like me, are unlikely to marry. Family members ask, “Are you ever going to get married?” as if I am remaining single purposely to keep them from attending my wedding. Well-meaning married friends try to sell me on the idea that being single is liberating. And then there is my octogenarian aunt whom I love, but who also manages to unintentionally sucker punch me whenever I visit with the comment, “Maybe if you’d just straighten your hair you’d be able to find a man.”

I’m almost positive the people in my life don’t mean to add to the anxiety I already feel about being single in my 30s without children. Implicit in some of their comments is the idea that my failure to marry is beyond my control, a function of being born black and female.

It’s not simply an unhelpful observation. This culturally popular notion that 70 percent of black women don’t marry is just a myth. For the last few years, I have been hearing from every source imaginable that the vast majority of black women will never marry. This never made sense to me because so many black women I know are married. And indeed, eventually, most black women do marry.

A look at recent census data will tell you that the 70 percent we keep hearing about has been misconstrued. According to 2009 data from the Census Bureau, 70.5 percent of black women in the United States had never been married — but those were women between the ages of 25 and 29. Black women marry later, but they do marry. By age 55 and above, those numbers showed, only 13 percent of black women had never been married. In fact, people who have never married in their lifetimes are in the clear minority, regardless of race.

With all the attention on black women, I had assumed that black men must be marrying in droves; otherwise they would be the focus of similar scrutiny. Not the case. Census numbers show that 73.1 percent of black men between the ages of 25 and 29 have never been married. That is actually higher than the numbers associated with black women.

Without warrant, black women have been the main focus of the “marriage crisis.” Marriage as the norm in the United States has been on the decline for decades; married couples now make up less than half of American households.

So why all of the negative attention on black women?

It is part of a persistent historical and present-day attack on black people in America, with black men made into deviants and black women into problems.

As Pearl Cleage writes in “Deals With the Devil: And Other Reasons to Riot,” it’s a no-win competition. “We’re all in terrible shape because of the presence of racism and sexism in our lives. ... Sexism is still not a word that gets used much in the black community, even though it describes a form of oppression that affects the majority population of the community — women! — and is no less virulent and deadly than racism."

The marriage crisis is the just the latest example.

There are logical reasons for black women to marry in their late 30s through their 40s, compared with women of other races who are more likely to marry in their late 20s and early 30s. Significantly more black women than black men are earning college degrees. That means significantly fewer black men are on college campuses, and thus in their 20s are not in the same arenas physically, educationally or professionally, making it more difficult to find black partners of equal footing — and the reality is that a lot of black women still prefer black men as partners. With age, the numbers of unmarried black women and men become significantly lower, suggesting that both find themselves at places in their lives where they are ready and able to commit.

Where are those black men who might be in college? The drug war has swept millions of poor people of color, a disproportionate number of whom are black men, into the criminal justice system. Generally, those men entering the system tend to be in their 20s, the age at which many women embark on their educational and career aspirations. These men have significantly reduced employment and economic opportunities and are sometimes viewed as less viable partners.

This kind of structural inequity affects everyone. My single friends and I can attest to the trials that come with having fewer dating options and outnumbering black men in our college and professional lives.

This is not to imply that there are no great single black men out there or that all single black women are the best catches, but the theories behind supply and demand are real. For some women, this dynamic is fine, but many others are opting out. Some black women choose to be single rather than settle, but rarely is this discussed as a real explanation for why some black women are unmarried. When a black woman says she is choosing to be single, most people assume she just can’t get a man. And it’s not as if successful black women are driving black men into the arms of women of other races. The census numbers confirm that black men largely still marry black women over any other race.

Ralph Richard Banks, a Stanford law professor, suggested in a widely reviewed book earlier this year, “Is Marriage for White People?” that black women should give up the dream of finding a black man and look to white, Asian or Latino men as potential mates.

Many black women are open to dating interracially. But that might be more difficult than it appears. A much talked-about report from the popular online dating Web site OKCupid.com found that black women received fewer responses than any other group, even though they sent the most messages.

They also found that white men and women have a stronger preference than any other group to date and marry within their own race. Similarly, a 2008 study from the University of California, Irvine, found that women of color were more likely to include white men in their dating pools while white men were more likely to exclude black women.

Proposing interracial dating as a solution requires more than just black women acquiescing. Understanding the numbers and the realities of single black women takes more than just a lopsided glance. Despite the visibility of people like Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey and Condoleezza Rice, black women as a group are still largely negatively stereotyped in movies, television, music and other forms of popular culture. However, because black men have been disproportionately affected by social inequities, black women have been implicitly conditioned not to add to that burden. Being critical of black men, instead of being supportive and sympathetic, is often viewed as adding to the problems of black men.

What has happened, though, is that black women have been silenced. When we are vocal, we are problems. The marriage debate highlights the need for black women to tell our own stories; it calls for an honest and holistic conversation that includes black men and it requires a critical analysis of structural inequities and mass incarceration.

In the meantime, I’ll be working on my snappy comebacks for everyone monitoring my relationship status.