We Are Not Your Fetish, We Are Not Your Fantasy.
Go ahead, go onto any porn site and type in the term interracial. You are bound to get hundreds of hits. So many degrading videos of black men with white girls because she has always wanted to be with a black guy or she has “daddy issues.” So many disgusting videos of beautiful black girls being treated as a game because “its fun to be with a black girl, but I would never marry one!” Why is this okay? Why is it fetishized and fantasized?
Being in an interracial relationship, the thought of my relationship being someone’s sexual fantasy absolutely makes my stomach churn. There have been days where I have logged into Tumblr and wanted to see all the beautiful mixed raced couples, but by searching interracial there are more sex GIFs and images than actual loving couples. It has always stuck with me: why do people look down on these relationships in the public or in their own family sphere, but when it comes to porn its perfectly fine?
Just a couple years ago there was the huge controversy over the Cheerios commercial which featured a mixed race family–a black dad, a white mom, and a biracial daughter. Why did this commercial start a huge uproar in the media? Why was it so negatively talked about and put down? What is wrong with people breaking the racial boundaries that were placed on us years before, because of love?
Being with my boyfriend for almost two years before taking a break and now being back together has opened my eyes completely. It is hard being in an interracial relationship. It takes a certain amount of strength, but you soon realize that this “strength” is called being a decent human being. I have experienced the stares in public, the messages asking why I’m with a black guy, and don’t I know that “most white girls that date black guy end up being murdered,” and even the occasional message asking if I am only with him because of sex–because its “fun to be with someone who isn’t your race” and “you wouldn’t marry someone like that, you could do so much better.”
I’ve said this before, I will say this now, and I will say it until my lungs collapse: I do not love my boyfriend for his skin color, I do not love my boyfriend for the racial stereotypes that he lives with everyday, I do not love my boyfriend because this is a “fun game,” and I do plan on marrying him some day because he is more than the color of his skin and the societal stereotypes he is restricted by. No he does not beat me so do not ask, you can look at my skin, look at my body, and see that I am the healthiest I have been in years and I have no bruises caused by him, only ones caused by my clumsy self. No he does not control my life, he pushes me to do my best and supports me when no one else does. No we are not together for the sex so do not question why we love each other, because I could sit here for hours and explain every reason why I love him, from the way he looks at me to how he covers me in kisses the moment I wake up. I am with him because he makes me a better person and I love him more than I ever thought possible. He is my shoulder to lean on when I’m breaking down and my motivation to keep fighting my inner demons. He makes me happy, gives me butterflies, and makes me realize that this world is not as terrible as some people make it look.
We are not your fetish. We are not your fantasy. We are more than your stereotype. We are love, and I refused to apologize for that.
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