Black african dating
I'll never forget the concerned look that a friend of mine gave me when my girlfriend struck up a very casual conversation with a black guy who happened to be standing next to us in a bar one night.
It was as if my friend felt I couldn't compete with the mutual blackness this man and my partner shared, and that everything else paled (excuse the pun) in comparison.
Which of course is great for them, because they tell me that "white guys treat women better." In one fell swoop, they reduce me to just "some white guy" with a thing for black girls, they put down all black men, and both they and my partner become nothing other than "black girls" willing to play along with my fetish.
Sadly, so many people seem so happy to flawlessly play out the stereotypes.
I'm not stupid enough to say things like "I don't see color," or to claim that there aren't differences between my girlfriend and I that are predicated on our respective races.
But as far as I'm concerned, our differences - both the racial ones and all the others - are precisely what make our relationship so much more interesting and intricate than the reductive narratives that so many people try to project upon us.
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It's a small adjustment to a very real article that some white Aussie guy called Jonno Something-or-other wrote for Vice a couple of years back entitled 'How to Date South African Girls', which has recently resurfaced on social media. Because if you hadn't guessed by now, I'm white, and my partner is black.If you're really looking for advice on how to date black South African girls, then this is not the place for you. On one occasion, a child of no more than 10 years old nudged a friend and said much too loud "Look! Waiters and waitresses, both white and non-white, are visibly shocked when my partner takes the bill at a restaurant, as they've obviously assumed she's with me for my money; sometimes black women look at my partner and tut - they seem to feel that having a white boyfriend is some kind of conscious betrayal on her part; we once had to leave a hotel where we were visiting my parents for the day, because my partner felt uncomfortable about the way some old Germans were looking at her as we sat by the pool - something about the situation led her to believe they thought she was my prostitute. People come up and tell us that what we are doing is "important" or "revolutionary" or "special." Though the intentions are undoubtedly in the right place, the inference is in some way the same: that because of our color difference, our relationship must be about something other than just two people who love each other. Over the past 3 years, I've seen this fact made manifest countless times. People literally stop in their tracks, their jaw falls open and their brain suddenly seems to malfunction. Some days I can make myself ignore it, but sometimes I'm tired, and I just want to be able to hold hands with my partner without feeling people's eyes on us from all sides. Other times I think about telling people that if they're so damn interested by us, we'll let them take a picture for R20.Then there are the fat, rich, old British men you see strolling around the Waterfront with beautiful black girls half their size and half their age.Initially, I get angry at all of these people for dirtying the image of what my partner and I are by association, but then I realize that this makes me just as judgmental as the people who judge us, or at the very least equally primed to jump to certain conclusions.