Get your coffee and take a read. It will make you melt.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had an attraction to black women. The first memory of my attraction to a black woman stems clear back to when I was five years old. She was my music teacher in school. I remember her being nice and being attracted to her brown skin. I thought she was beautiful. So it’s safe to say that this attraction is God given and it’s always been a part of me.
I’m a single white man, older now, but not old (and who looks much younger), not yet married — and never have been; but I want to be and want to build a family one day. I’m not a desperate man, but like everyone else, I’m not getting any younger, either. I enjoy where I currently live, but black women in this area don’t seem very progressive in terms of interracial dating and so, I haven’t had much success meeting a beautiful black woman I’m attracted to who is open to dating outside her race. I’m not worried, though, as my plan is to move next fall (to attend university to finish up a degree) in another location not too far away, but one that would be considered more cosmopolitan than the area I currently reside in. There, I know the beautiful women of the ‘darker persuasion’ are more open minded and I’m hoping in that place I will find my wife and queen.
Until that day, as I continue to walk my path, I often give thought to the type of woman I’m most attracted to, what character qualities I’d desire her to possess, and the man I am and further want to be for her as future husband (and father to our kids) one day. I have vision for my life and I know what I want. I think on the ways I desire and am working to improve myself — for God, for myself, and for her, in that order. I think about what her family is like and how I might fit in with and relate to them. I think on whether her father would willfully and openly accept me as his son-in-law one day. I think about what family events might be like on her side of things, and hope that having a newly adopted family would be positive and fulfilling (in as much as it could be). I’m eager to show her family (and gain their acknowledgment and approval) that yes, as a white man, I actually DO know how to eat chicken properly and honorably by chewing ALL the chicken off the bone! Ain’t no waste here! This white boy KNOWS how to get down with some chicken! LOL! (I know, I’m being stupid with that, but you have to laugh at these things, sometimes.) I also think about how she might get along with my mother and my sisters (and my entire family), not because they wouldn’t accept her, but because I believe they would adore her and that would bring me great pleasure to witness that when we’re all together.
Because I have no idea who this woman will be, I’ve found myself in moments, daydreaming about the things one day I’ll discover about her… what her name is, how she looks, how deep brown and sexy her skin will be, how thick and curvy and feminine she is, how she’ll feel to hold, to kiss, and to squeeze. What will it feel like on that one crisp, autumn day when we’re outside, breathing the fresh air, taking in the beauty of the palette of color fall affords, enjoying each other’s company, and we have a moment: I stand behind her and wrap my arms around her to hold her, her hands touching my arms, and I lean in to whisper in her ear how much I love her. I hope she’ll smile. I imagine what the scent of her skin and her perfume might be. How we’ll look and fit together and make love. What is her laugh like and how will we joke around? What will our conversations be like? How intelligent and expressive and confident and alive is she? How sensitive and thoughtful is she? What’s her spiritual walk like? How might we work out our disagreements? How are we going to function as a couple from day to day? I want our friendship and our intimacy on all levels to be deep. I want those things and our marriage to last into old age. I imagine the beautiful mixed babies we’ll make together and the day when I can watch her be mother to our children. I think on a lot of things. Naturally, the factor of being alone affords me the freedom and luxury of pondering on all these matters. Even with a busy schedule, I’ve had a handful of years to do so.
Now, I realize that all of this is very indulgent, and yet I must submit that it’s fun and pleasurable to think on these things. The hopeful anticipation of all those layers of discovery and the building of a loving friendship and romance that will deepen and last is wonderful in its nature and yet, at times, maddening in its delay. Certainly nothing foreign to any single person. In a world where challenges are often every day, where people are going mental all around us, where finding romance is becoming increasingly difficult, and where critics abound, we all need some love and respect, hope and encouragement. This letter may not directly serve the first two, but it can most certainly serve the latter two. I wrote this, initially because it was on my heart and mind to do so — I love the writing arts for the personal fulfillment it brings me in expressing myself creatively in that form. Yet, I’ve also come to realize that anything good within us is experienced most richly and creatively during moments when we take what is within us and reach outside of ourselves and find a way to use it to bless others — to serve as something positive, something fun, perhaps thoughtful, something uplifting… a fresh spark, a moment of identifying with each other to know we’re not alone, to help others realize hope is alive. Words can bolster faith, inspire, shape, comfort, recharge.
And so, for those reasons and potentials, I decided to share these thoughts and ponderings of mine, in the hope that, if you choose to share this, that it would lift someone’s spirits, give them a bit of renewed hope while they wait patiently for someone special, make them laugh and bring a smile to their face just to know that their day is coming and they’re not alone in these thoughts. Although anyone may draw from what I’ve written here, because your site promotes interracial relationships and I happen to be a white male who is attracted to black women, I also want your single black female audience and readers to be reminded that they are beautiful as women (and not just “for black girls”), that they are desirable and desired, and that in as much as they are daydreaming of love and thinking on the matters that I wrote of, there are good men who are doing the same. Yes, we’re thinking of you, too…and preparing. Be encouraged.
The last thing I want to mention to the beautiful, single black ladies out there, before I close this chapter, is not to be afraid, and to please feel free to get the attention of white men like me. Make eye contact, give us a look and a smile, and please do it just enough to the man you’re interested in, so that we know you’re interested and receptive to our approach. That body language with a friendly smile goes a LONG way in encouraging us to drum up the courage to walk over to you and introduce ourselves. Approaching us to flirt a little to send out a message is brilliant, too.
Have a wonderful evening, Christelyn. Be well, and thanks for all you do to help those of us looking and desiring to step outside the “category of race” to find love.