One question my aunt asked was do people look at y’all funny when you’re together? It’s sad that in today’s time, my aunt still has to ask me that because I date a white man. It’s sad that people around us have a bigger problem accepting the fact that we’re together and love one another, and that the difference in our skin is actually one of our attractions to one another.
Brandon and I have talked about racism, obviously (he would actually have more to say about it’s foolishness than me honestly). And it’s interesting that although we see the bigger picture the same, there are still some things that we both don’t notice. Let’s face it, there are different things in our lives and different circumstances that we grew up with. And instead of getting mad about it, I had to ask myself, is it so bad?
Is it so bad that he doesn’t see it because he only sees me? When we’re out eating, I notice people looking. I can imagine their questions in my own head. I feel the stares. I hear the snares. And I overlook the glares. They are there. But he doesn’t see it like I do.
I could easily be upset because he doesn’t know what it’s like to be black, or have people stare at you or your hair. I can be upset that he hasn’t experienced certain comments and looks. But at the same time, is it so bad that all he can see is me and he ignores everyone else? Is it so bad that in the midst of all the outside forces, he only focuses on what’s at the center? Us.
So the issue isn’t with him, but in a sense, it’s more so with me.