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Why I date black men

I am a white woman and I love black men.

Any long-time reader would have probably picked up on that by now.

My first schoolgirl crush, in the 5th grade, was a boy named Ryan. He was black. My third real-life crush was another black boy named Jordan in the 8th grade. Since I’ve been old enough to be attracted to the opposite sex I have been attracted to both white and black boys, with the majority of real-life attraction being directed at the darker segment of the gender.

Aside: I am differentiating between real life and celebrity attractions because Teen Bop and Tiger Beat didn’t really have black guys in their magazines that I can remember – I just remember a lot of Jonathan Taylor Thomas!

This will probably be a post full of contradictions, nonsensical rambling, and generalizations but I’ve been thinking a lot about why I tend to date black men exclusively – is it me, is it them, is it something else? I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a few reasons, all of which are interrelated in some way.

Another aside, which is clearly my favourite thing in whole world: I started thinking about this after my father found out about A and suggested that my penchant for black men may say something about me – though I’m thinking that his notice of the skin colour of my choice in men also says something about him. Oh snap.

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I love the ease in which black men are men. They are confident in their masculinity, they own it, and they flaunt it. I love that. The thing is, I want a man, with zero blurred lines – my feeling, as well as my experience, tell me that my chances of finding the kind of man that I’m looking for among the black population is greater than in the white population.

I think in part due to the abovementioned confidence, black men are the only men to ever approach me. I can’t even remember the last time I was hit on by a white man – it just doesn’t happen.  The few and brief encounters I have had with white men in the recent past have been mediocre at best – sometimes clumsy, sometimes awkward, and sometimes I’ll think I’ve met someone who has that confidence factor I love until I find out he’s really just arrogant (one particular guy comes to mind!)

Then there is the sex. It’s just been better with black men, and it has nothing to do with penis size (I swear). Maybe it’s their rhythm, or their confidence, or a combination of multiple factors that makes the sex better (based on prior experience). Or maybe I’m just not meeting the right white guys (entirely likely given the above paragraph). In any case, black men take their time and do things slowly – there’s been no wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am moments, even with the youngest of them I’ve been with. They’ve known where to touch me, how to touch me, and when to touch me without much direction from me. To put it bluntly, it’s rare for me to not climax when I’ve been with black men – the opposite is true of my experiences with white men.

Having said all of the above though, I just really love men in general – black, white, or any other colour.

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I’m a sucker for the bad boy

My grandfather: “So I hear you’re dating a black guy.”

I knew this would come up sooner or later. You would think my family would be used to my taste in men by now though. I have never been attracted to the clean-cut choir boy type, much to their dismay. Instead I am undeniably attracted to the bad boys.

When I was younger my taste was for the goth boys, the tall, dark, and skinny boys who wore lots of black, chains, and nail polish. Extra credit if they also played in a band, and a definite shoe-in if they were the lead singer.

My tastes matured in college to a more mature version of the above; still tall, dark, and skinny, only now they were men, preferably who still played in bands but who ditched the chains and nail polish for a more polished look. Extra credit if they have tattoos and piercings.

Once I was properly single for the first time in my adult life my tastes changed to black men. I think this is partly due to my experiences with white men, which have not been all that favourable (aside: I can hear a black guy I knew once saying that he can’t date black girls because they remind him of his sister). Black men, in my experience, are undeniably masculine, and that is what I want (need?) at this point in my life. I want a man who is a man, who knows he’s a man and who doesn’t deviate from that.

Of course, given my preference for the bad boy type, the inclination towards black men is probably also due to the fact that interracial dating is still considered taboo to many and so what better way to buck the system now that I’ve already brought home the tattooed and pierced goth boys?

I hope this in no way trivializes my attraction to / affection for / love of black men – it’s just an observation on my part.

The ironic thing though is that A is literally the most clean-cut man I’ve dated, ever. Maybe I’ve actually found the best of both worlds?

Image courtesy of strivetwosucceed.wordpress.com