I was in the mall earlier today, spending money I should’t have, when I walked passed an interracial couple. White man. Black woman. I got a quick flashback to my year(s) of interracial dating and the number of little cultural differences that were, in most instances, mostly comical. Like explaining to him why I wrap my hair with a scarf before bed. I left my scarf in the VW one time and he literally goes, “why do you have a durag in the passenger seat?” Or, getting called dude after every sentence. Or, making out and leaving his face completely black with foundation the color of my complexion. Explaining hair grease. Explaining soul food. Explaining how weaves are actually sewn in. The relaxer/perm talk. The “meet my grandma from the deep south” introduction. More than anything, interracial relationships are a learning experience.
Then there’s the darker side to it; the endless amount of dirty looks, harsh stares, and uncomfortable giggling we’d have to endure. Ain’t shit change. Race relations are still funny that way. My personal experience with men as a dark skin black girl has been unique to say the least. Based on previous conversations, people assume that I only date white guys because according to them, I “talk” white.
“You talk like a valley girl!” “Why do you sound like that?” “This girl sounds like a white bitch.”
Yes people- I’m well aware of how obnoxious both my voice and laugh are. Trust me. Back to boyzzzzzz though. Let me break down the types of men I’ve come across over the years. This should be funny.
There’s the handful of white boys who have never touched a black girl, but view them as exotic. The ones that want to engage in your mind + body behind doors but can’t bring you home to their parents. The ones who claim they, “never tried chocolate before.” By no means am I speaking for all white men, just the ones I’ve come in contact with. I remember studying the plight of black females in my modern novel course two semesters ago and discussing stereotypes surrounding black women. Wild. Animalistic. Promiscuous. Overly sexualized beings. Desirable bodies without admirable beauty. That’s when it really clicked for me in this class that black women are many times approached so they can fulfill some sort of fantasy. Miss me with the, “black girls are wild, right?” Boy, bye.
Then there’s the, “I don’t date black girls no offense, but I’d fuck with you.” Earth to boys like this: THIS IS NOT A COMPLIMENT. You’re pretty for a black girl? Not a compliment. I don’t fuck with your complexion but you’re cute. #bye. I’ve even been told before that white guys must like me because I don’t have a black face/black features.
I’m just going to let that sit.
I’ve learned to react less belligerently to these types of comments but I definitely voice the fact that it’s not fucking cool. Ignorance is contagious unfortunately but you can’t change the minds of others. The one thing you can do is try and make people aware. Enlightenment.
Finally, there’s the black guys who only want something foreign or a snow bunny. The ones that low-key admit, “you’re cute” and ten times out of ten refer to you as chocolate. I think I’ve been referred to as chocolate by black guys more than my actual name. Being that I have a darker complexion, a lot of times black guys don’t even acknowledge me. It’s a weird dynamic. I just keep it pushing, because I’m definitely not checkin’ for anybody who isn’t checkin’ for me. I think when I was younger it would bother me but now I don’t even think twice about it.
“Pray you know your worth when niggas don’t notice your beauty.”
I have to admit though, black love is so beautiful to me. Unfortunately, there’s such a stigma that goes along with dating black girls. I know because I’ve lived it for 21 days. We’re too loud. Too belligerent. So angry at the world. We have daddy issues. We emasculate black men. We’re ratchet. I can go on for hours. I can’t respect any black man who doesn’t respect black woman. Plain and simple. One of the best qualities of black women is unconditional love and it’s disheartening how often it’s overlooked. I appreciate the boys who acknowledge the beauty of their own people. Everyone has a preference but don’t sleep on the queens of your own culture.