Little Signs I’m growing up.

I’m a vain person. I always have been. However I wasn’t always one to admit it. I realized I was vain in 10th grade when I didn’t speak to anyone the whole school year. I focused more on how I looked to outsiders then actually communicating with them. I liked guys for purely shallow reasons, mainly because I wanted to have pretty babies. This also was one of the reason I wasn’t attracted to “my own kind.”

Yes, I’m black. I have been since birth. However I’ve never really been attracted to black guys mostly because of my personality and the way I was raised. I have nothing in common with the majority of the ones I come into contact with. Also, I admittedly was afraid of them. Yes, I am a giant racist against black people, which is a common sentiment among 80% of black folks. Until this last year.

I broke up with my boyfriend of 3.25 years who just happened to be some white kid. At the time he was my one and only. I honestly thought I would end up with them. Then I realized the reasons I was attracted to him was because we would have pretty babies and I liked the way people looked at us. I enjoyed the aspect of being in a slightly non aesthetically traditional relationship. I loved getting the looks from strangers like “Oh you don’t see that everyday” and I enjoyed the vocal reactions too. “You guys are beautiful together!” was my favorite one. Other than that it was an insanely poisonous relationship. I fault our incompatible astrological signs.

Anyway, I realized being with someone purely because they looked a certain way was not a reason to stay with someone. I’m still vain when it comes to men, like they can’t be fat and I have to be able to look at them. However the color of their skin is not a factor at all anymore. Which brings me to my current person of interest.

It is shocking to people who know me really well to find out that the guy I’m smitten with is a black person. Black. With brown skin. An African American male. With African American male features. And I am head over heels with him. I really shouldn’t be at all but for actual reasons other than he’s black. Then again, I like him as more than a pretty face. I like him for real reasons: he’s motivated and can pay his own bills and is insanely outgoing in the most positive and wonderful way…and he’s crazy adorable and he doesn’t even know when he’s doing it…and his body is sick.

I’ve noticed as a friend of a lot of different races, the American dream is a young white male be he brunette or blonde or ginger. Most races love white guys. So much that they refuse to date their own kind because as we all know, mixed children are the most beautiful. I find this now to be a real immature way of thinking but its fine. We are all guilty of our immaturity, and who doesn’t want gorgeous babies?

So coming to terms with the fact that you can’t choose who you have feelings with has led me to this really new, awesome time in my life. I have this weird “grown up” feeling in my stomach all of the time. I’m not exactly where I thought I would be 5 years ago in high school, but I understand why. I’m still young, I’ve got time. I’m starting to let things slide more as well. Liking this new guy has proved more positive then negative. I’m definitely guilty of daydreaming about our future adventures that will most likely NEVER happen, but i’m keeping my expectations low and not getting wrapped up in another person’s life. I’m focusing on my little ol’ crazy self.


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