I’m a Sell Out…and other fun facts I’ve learned about myself since deciding to marry a White Man…

I’m a sell out. I’m a Negro Bed Wench. I’m an Uncle Tom. Yup…How did I find this out? Like most things, I’ve found out from the internet. I’m a bad woman who obviously hates myself and Black people…not because of who I “hate” but because of who I love.

It’s sad that in 2014 loving who you want to love (or can’t help but love) is still an issue, but it is. The uncomfortable juxtapose when we are together–seeing his pinkish skin near my caramel color is enough to invite looks that are sharp enough to cut glass from people showing their disdain for our relationship. I was so naive; too liberal; too Utopian in my thinking; too intermingled with people that are different than me to understand the gravity of what me marrying a White man means to other people. I just didn’t know. Call me inexperienced.

I’m 33 years old and I’ve had my fair share of relationships. I grew up in Minnesota, where there is a limited Black Community. Instead of trying to fit into a White box, I grabbed hold of my culture and wore it proudly, unabashedly, and allowed my whole spirit to be fully engulfed in an understanding of where I came from. My dad grew up on welfare in a one-room tenement apartment in Harlem, NY during the 50’s and 60’s. My mother was born in Birmingham, AL around the same time and her mother relocated them to Minnesota for a better life and to avoid the violent racism that plagued the South at the time. The KKK was killing Black children and burning crosses where my mother grew up, so they had to do the great exodus to the North.

My parents, for all intents and purposes,
grew up during what I would consider to be times of war. People were fighting for their rights. Things were changing. People died. People sacrificed. People changed the national conversation from the denial of rights of certain people to a pathway for equal rights for all. The struggle still continues, but I would certainly thank my parents’ generation for making those pathways for me. I got so entrenched in reading slave diaries, civil rights narratives, and Harlem Renaissance poetry about African and African-American culture, it forever burned into the spirit of who I am as a person. To this day, I don’t use the word “Nigga” because of what I learned about “strange fruit hanging“. I was so Afrocentric at one point, my body is still decorated with permanent tattoos of African symbols that documented my journey of self-discovery. I love being Black. No doubt about it. I take great pride in my culture and heritage. 

After I moved to California and ended a long-term relationship/engagement to a Black man, I found myself single in Los Angeles. For the first time in my life, men of all races, colors, creeds, backgrounds, and income levels started to notice me and ask me out. I pretty much exclusively dated Black until I was 25. I started becoming interested in the Latino guys that I knew. White guys would always ask me out, and at some point, I started to say yes to their offers. I had dated many guys of different races, but until I met my husband, I didn’t have any serious relationships with White men. 

My Husband on our Wedding Day
Fast forward to when I met my husband. We met through work. And no, I wasn’t his first girlfriend of color or his first Black girlfriend. His last girlfriend is a sweet and successful black woman, who is absolutely gorgeous; however, their relationship ended after nearly five years of them being together. She is so well-loved by his family, she is still considered extended family, and rightfully so. My husband has a strong preference for Black women. Not just light-skinned women, but black women of all shades, mixes, and varieties. He loves natural hair, afros, chocolate colored skin, full lips, and the attitudes of black women. He does not have a “fetish” for Black Women. He has a genuine preference and appreciation for the beauty of Black Women. He is a musician, and his appreciation for Black culture came from many of his heroes being Black musicians. He has lived his whole life in the Los Angeles area, which is the melting pot of the US. He is a blue-eyed soul boy. 

I personally had preferred dark-skinned, muscular, Black men my whole life. But there was something about the kindness in his blue eyes that made me give him a chance. I had no idea we would fall in love, be together through thick and thin, then get married. I had no idea I would grow to love his family as my own or that my father would grow to love him as his son. I didn’t know that my nephews and niece would adore their White uncle…and that my Brother-in-Law and my guy would hit it off as if they’d known each other for years. I had no clue that any of that would happen. I just was going on a date with a nice guy who seemed super excited to be in my presence. 

“Black women are not objects, we are people. And it’s not perverse for a man who is not Black to find us attractive. To imply that a Black woman cannot be attractive to another race due to her beauty–physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually–rather than superficial things like sex degrades the Black woman and strips her of the dignity and honor that she deserves.” 

Black women are constantly told a seriously degrading lie, “If a White man is interested in you, he is trying to feed a fetish. White men cannot be truly attracted to Black women for who they are; only what they look like, or as an object White Men use to assert their power over Black People.” This is the most disrespectful thing I can think of. A fetish is to have  an unnatural sexual attraction to an object. Black women are not objects, we are people. And it’s not perverse or unnatural for a man who is not Black to find us attractive. To imply that a Black woman cannot be attractive to another race due to her beauty–physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually–rather than superficial things like sex degrades the Black woman and strips her of the dignity and honor that she deserves. Black women are beautiful, gorgeous, strong, and our culture is interesting to just about every group in the world, whether they would like to admit it or not. When we imply that the beauty of Black Women can only be appreciated by Black Men, what are we telling Black Women? We are telling them that they are not good enough to be loved and appreciated, and that is just not the case. 

Love sees color, it just doesn’t care.

The truth that we’ve had to accept is that for some people, seeing us is a source of pain. Black men have been so brutally beaten up in the media and have been characterized as bad people for so long, some Black women have actually bought into the lie that Black men are the enemy.  Black men are not the enemy. They are our Brothers. 

When we started dating and going places together, I noticed something which we have named “The Look”. “The Look” is when a person goes out of their way to show you by their facial expressions or actions that they disapprove of your union. This look is most often given to us by Black Men and older White Women. “The Look” can be something as simple as an impenetrable stare (generally directed at me, rather than my husband), to having bus drivers pass us up on bus stops while they shake their heads in disapproval. “The Look” is often accompanied by snide remarks, or Black Men hitting on me right in front of my husband, with zero regard that he is standing with me. These remarks are made to try to provoke a reaction from my husband, but we generally ignore looks and comments. My mother first experienced “The Look” when we were on our family-shared honeymoon at Universal Studios and Disneyland when a White Woman gave us a degrading look of disapproval. My mom shouted back, “They’re Married!!”. My mom was pissed, but we were used to it. My parents have been so very accepting, and I felt really bad that our family was disrespected in that way on our family vacation/honeymoon. The truth that we’ve had to accept is that for some people, seeing us is a source of pain. Black men have been so brutally beaten up in the media and have been characterized as bad people for so long, some Black women have actually bought into the lie that Black men are the enemy.  Black men are not the enemy. They are our Brothers. Some Black men interpret a Black Woman dating outside of her race as her giving up on Black Men, instead of her simply being in love.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that people often don’t realize that we are together. They’ve even assumed I was with random Black Men that I didn’t even know over my husband, who is generally no more than 2 feet away from me at any given time in public. We generally hold hands in public, so that there is no confusion that we are a couple. We don’t mind PDA’s, but we generally engage in them more often than I have in other relationships, because otherwise, people put their feet in their mouths when addressing us.

I have been told online that I was a Negro Bed Wench. 

The Negro Bed Wench is a Black woman who will do ANYTHING to please her White bosses, especially White men. She is the female equivalent to the Uncle Tom, someone completely loyal to her White bosses and will not only lie, cheat and steal for him, but allow him to use her as his sexual plaything. 

Negro Bed Wenches makes White Corporate business owners comfortable. In fact out of all the Black sellouts she makes White bosses the most comfortable. White managers love Negro Bed Wenches because he knows how ruthless they are. As his enforcer, White Men can always count on her to do their dirty work. No matter how immoral, unethical illegal or heinous the act is she’ll get the job done and do it with pride. 

Anything an Uncle Tom or a Coon won’t do, A Negro Bed Wench will. And she’ll do it with a smile. Plus they allow him to meet the Affirmative Action quota by killing two birds with one stone, by hiring a minority person and a woman at the same time. Negro Bed Wenches are often placed in management positions and entry level front desk positions, she’s known for her hostile no-nonsense attitude and her cold demeanor. White Managers used her to strike fear and terror in the masses of employees and customers, especially the Black males. She’s a cruel dominatrix who lives to humiliate and crush people, especially Black men.”

I’ve had people call my husband my, “White Master” and I’ve been called and Uncle Tom. My husband is not my master, nor is he some weak simp who I boss around all day. Our home is run with a sense of love, equality, and a family first attitude. We don’t believe in yelling at each other, being domineering, or being cruel to one another. That’s just not how we are. And I’m not with him to prove anything. I’m with him because I love him and he loves me. After someone has held your hair while you puke repeatedly from food poisoning, you’ve fought daily for bathroom time, and you’ve held your tongue and just cleaned his whiskers out of the sink instead of making a fuss about him not cleaning up his shavings, life being with a White Man is no different than any other type of man. My husband has faults, shortcomings, and demons to wrestle with just like any other person. I just choose to love him regardless of that. 

If you find yourself thinking that all Black Men are terrible, I think it’s time that you check your choices in men. Black men are fucking awesome.”

My Father and Nephews walking me
 down the aisle.

I set out to write this article not to convince people to date outside of their race. I wrote this article to tell people it’s okay if you find yourself loving someone who looks different than you do. And if you are with someone, be with them because of the fact you love them, not what they look like. I wrote this to tell the world that every Black Woman who dates outside of their race is not here to degrade and disrespect Black Men. I’m so sick of these self-hating black women that date interracially for superficial reasons speaking out for the rest of us who have actual families with men outside of our race. Race is a social construction. There is no scientific way to categorize race. It does not actually exist. Cultural differences will always be there, and that can happen even among couples of the same “race”. And we as interracially dating black women cannot degrade Black Men in order to justify loving a man outside of our race. Black men have always been the rock of the Black community, and we need to respect their greatness, because we have sprung from their greatness. My life is filled with countless Black Men that I love and adore. Ones that I admire and strive to be like. I also admire and love my husband, who is White.

How do we make it work when we are so very different? Well, we do it through understanding. My husband acknowledges that this world is built upon the idea of White Supremacy and he also understands the privileges that being a thin, White, male comes with. He doesn’t try to tell me what my story is; and he also doesn’t try to act like I am not discriminated against as a Black Woman in a way he might never understand. We make it work because we are honest about the ways of the world and we know there is nothing we can do to change the world–other than love each other despite of the poisoning of the well with Racism. He accepts my experiences and I accept his. I hate the whole, “Love sees no color” bullshit. I see my man’s color and he sees mine, and we don’t care. To say you don’t see my blackness is to erase a big part of who I am. I am Black. You can see it. You can acknowledge it. Just don’t judge me by that alone.

When people compare my husband to a Slave Master and me to a Slave, or “House Negro”, it disrespects our family. Our family consists of both of our families, our extended family, our friends, and our two cute little dogs. We are an actual family. We are not playing house, nor are we playing Slave and Slave Master. We are a family, spiritually and legally. And when people imply that the 5 years we have known each other and have built our family is just a superficial hoax, it belittles what we’ve fought so hard to accomplish.

White men will not necessarily treat you better than a Black man. They don’t all have 
money to take care of you. In fact, mine was unemployed for the first year of our relationship. They will not inherently be better than a Black Man. None of this is true. The differences are quite subtle in your day to day lives. If you find yourself thinking that all Black Men are terrible, I think it’s time that you check your choices in men. Black men are fucking awesome. My dad is a Black man. One whom I love dearly. He taught me everything I know, and I will forever hold him in the highest regard. And the man that I fell in love with reminded me of my father. He loves me the way my father loves my mother, unconditionally. 

My Husband and I practicing the African-American Tradition of”Jumping the Broom” at our Wedding.