Dating white boys
I began attending parties where I was one of the few white people.
Guys would approach me, rarely avoiding grabbing my butt or asking the question, “So you like black guys?
It put me in a box, limiting me in ways I didn’t realize until recently.
I immediately sprinted outside in the daylight to get a better look and make sure I wasn’t fat.
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.