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Do black men hate black women dating white men

do black men hate black women dating white men-2

I felt a certain pride in hanging out with people who were Dominican, Indonesian, Laos, Filipino, Hispanic, etc. My parents taught me good morals, like not judging others by their appearance, though I did have to keep my jaw clenched when I visited relatives.They would ask me about the “colored kids” at my job as a camp counselor and spoke the word “bi-racial” in hushed tones, as if it were something to be ashamed of.

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Guys would approach me, rarely avoiding grabbing my butt or asking the question, “So you like black guys?Friends asked me what it was like dating someone who is black and giggled asking if it was true about “what they say about size.” One friend admitted “I could never date a black guy because I wouldn’t be able to understand what he was saying.” All stereotypes I had been used to hearing about this unchartered territory.When my relationship eventually ended, the phrase “once you go black, you never go back” rang in my ears.This was the place I was born and raised; where nobody had to whisper the “n word” or hesitate to stick some feathers in their hair and paint their skin red as a sign of school spirit.Growing up in New Hampshire didn’t prevent me from making friends or dating guys who weren’t white.It put me in a box, limiting me in ways I didn’t realize until recently.

The more attention I received from black men, the less white men wanted to talk to me, as if I had been eternally branded as a traitor.

In Rochester everyone appeared to me as clones, walking down school halls clad in American Eagle apparel with Aroma Joe’s coffee cups in hand, but at TU everything clicked.

Gay, bisexual, straight, transgender, black, white, Asian, it was there and it was beautiful. “I can’t believe you dumped me for a n*%$#@.” Telling your parents about your new boyfriend is hard enough when his skin is the same color as yours, but it becomes even more difficult when he is at the opposite end of the color spectrum as you.

Flo Rida’s “Can’t Believe It” flowed through party speakers with its lyrics “Damn that white girl got some a** I don’t believe it” and “black girl got some a** it ain’t no secret”, taking me back to feelings of insecurity I started having as a little kid.

The first time I had ever questioned my physical appearance was before I even began first grade.

They seemed to be intimidated by my dozens of Facebook pictures with darker men, causing them to run before they even got to know me.