Best and worst cities for interracial dating
In my hometown, the guys who were genuinely attracted to me (beyond mere lust) would never admit it to their peers—they’d have been ridiculed for actually liking a black girl.So in order to feel the touch of a man in my adolescence, I played the role of a "Jezebel."I grew up black in a mostly white area, so I was accustomed to casual racism.As the weeks passed, I slowly started to realize that I hadn’t seen any black people since we’d arrived.Because my husband is white, the lens through which he views the world had allowed him to visit Portland and never think twice about the fact that it was such an overwhelmingly white city.Once I’d officially been promoted to fiancée, we drove cross-country to our new home.
Then he produced an engagement ring and persuaded me to move west with him.As I grappled with the new experience of trying to converse with people who were too scared to engage in sincere and authentic conversations, I started to understand the different nuances of racism.I became very familiar with the word When my husband was around, these microaggressions—like people touching my hair—happened way less often, if at all.When he and I would go out, I noticed that people would often intensify their eye contact with my husband so they wouldn't have to acknowledge me.
On one fun occasion, a white waitress flirted with my husband all night, then referred to me as "Sister Girl."These unbalanced interactions became routine, and I started to develop severe social anxiety.As part of Committed, we're exploring partnerships ranging from a textbook marriage between high-school sweethearts to a gay couple creating a life together in the conservative deep South.