I had a really nice, mushy feelings post about my interracial relationship but I realized that my feelings towards my man have nothing to do with our ethnicities and cultures because that part of our relationship is actually the sucky bit. Leh we talk bout da.
I have had girls point out black men to me even after I've told them that I have absolutely no interest in the blessed chocolate heaven that is the black man. They are beautiful creatures but I just do not wish to be in relationships with them. I like blue eyes, as an island gyal they take me home to the Caribbean and all I think about is diving into the ocean. Yes, blue eyes are that deep for me and I hate that my boyfriend was blessed with them instead of me. Then again God knows that I would probably spend all my time looking into my eyes if He had blessed me. I have also endured the speech of how interracial relationships are a plot to erase the black race. The speeches about me hating myself and my people are the worst. From the black side I live through the questions about the penis size, hygiene and food. Let me address those three quickly no they don't all have small penises, yes they shower as often as you would like them to and I am a better cook than my boyfriend but aren't you better than your too?
The white side is worst, always has but I hope it changes soon. "Wow a black girl, I've never had a black girl." While our skin is chocolate and we look delectable we are not dishes for you to try. Black people are not exotic, people are not countries or places. The questions about my hair, family life, religious convictions and education are all connected to race instead them simply being questions. Then we have the people who just think it is wrong for a Dutch guy to be mixed with a "negerin" (female nigger). Did I leave out the need to make sure that I do not need a passport because you know some of them are only after one thing.
In March my boyfriend and I went to the "mall" in hometown and he remarked that everyone was staring at me. I was probably the only black person there that afternoon and definitely the only one walking hand in hand with a white man. Thankfully we live in Rotterdam where interracial relationships are pretty normal. We don't get outright stares, what we do get are the curious looks. The looks that make me want to scream.
I want to scream because I know that I live in a world that is horrible. One that does not care about my skin or my race for the most part. I live in a country that pretends to be tolerant while discriminating against biracial children. I live in a world in which I have to pray and beg God that my future children look nothing like me and everything like their dad simply because their lives would be better white. I want to live in a society that will accept that a white man can love a black woman because of who she is and love her even more because she can dance to soca music. The interesting part of all of this is while these awful things happen when I am with my boyfriend we are in a type of bubble. I see the people and I think about how insignificant they are to our happiness. Maybe we balance out each other, I give him street cred and I am not immediately labeled the thief when alarm goes off in a store. Whatever it is does not matter.
I am a black woman with dark skin, brown eyes and relaxed hair. I love a man that makes me laugh, who cares for me in ways I did not know possible. A man who thinks the way I pronounce the word 'day' is the cutest thing and who stays up and argues with me until 3am. He is pale-skinned, blond-haired and has the most beautiful blue eyes. I love the person who love me. Ok world?