Let's end this call and end this conversation.
I was listening to Green Day's "Jesus of Suburbia" (great song) when I all of a sudden decided that it was time for another blog. I have to be in a certain mood to type in this one, I guess.
As the summer winds to a close and I prepare for my junior year at SLU, I can't help but think of how amazing this summer was. It was definitely one of the best summers of my life, ranking just below that first summer in California 7 years ago. I just don't think I could have asked for much more. I experienced so much, and I learned a LOT in this short time. Rather than try to squish everything into this paragraph, I'll make a list. That's my nature, I suppose. I like lists a lot. :) So yeah...everything is a learning experience, and this summer was no different:
1. I've learned what I like.
I believe that a big part of knowing yourself is knowing what you like and dislike. What turns you on, what turns you off...what you look for in the opposite sex, your friends, etc. etc. So on that note, I've discovered (or maybe just finally accepted) what my family has (begrudgingly) told me for YEARS: I'm attracted to white men. And...I'm not attracted to black men.
*gulp* It took me about 5 minutes to type out that last sentence. I kept typing it, then erasing it, then trying to find a "nicer" way to word it. "Maybe I'm attracted to SOME black guys," I tried telling myself. "Don't exclude ALL black men from that statement," My head was telling me. But...*gulps again* It's true. Sure...I think Tiger Woods is hot, Will Smith is sexy for NO reason at all, and I can't take my eyes away from Morris Chestnut. Heck, I run into gorgeous black men everyday. Every DAY. I'm not saying that I don't find black men attractive, or intriguing, or intelligent...it's just that I cannot, for the life of me, picture myself in a relationship with a black guy. I've tried. I really have. I feel guilty as HELL for feeling this way. I think that for a long time, I worked SO HARD at convincing myself that I was attracted to black men that I started to believe it. I wanted my family to believe me so badly when I told them "I'd never date a white boy"...but...dammit...no. I can't lie anymore. I guess the whole situation this summer is what changed my mind.
Elaborate? Of course I will. I'm a picky girl when it comes to who I will date. That would explain why I've always been single. It's not because there's a SHORTAGE of guys that approach me (and for a long time, I lied about that too...the whole 'guys don't like me' bit), it's because I'm picky as hell. If there IS a boy that I start to like, I'll immediately find something wrong with him, even if it's the most miniscule, insignificant thing. And then he'll be gone. Just like that. *snaps fingers* For a long long LONG time, I thought something was wrong with me. I didn't know why I was turning down all of these otherwise wonderful men because they haven't heard of Muse, or because they were a tiny bit shorter than me, or my favorite one: "We have TOO MUCH in common". Yeah. Those are all excuses I've used to talk myself out of dating various guys.
Why did I expect everyone else to be perfect, when I'm far from it myself? It didn't make any sense until this summer, when I finally dated a white guy. Was he perfect? No. Did we have EVERYTHING in common? No. Was he a vegetarian? Not at all. But for once...that didn't stop me from liking him...from giving him a fucking CHANCE.
So...to make a long story short, I dated a guy and didn't immediately try to distance myself from him. Moral of the story? Perhaps I'm the last one to figure it out, but YEAH...I LIKE WHITE BOYS. I'll take spiky hair, black rimmed glasses, and Hollister attire over baggy jeans and braids anyday. Colin Farrell over Morris Chestnut? Heck yeah. Jason Mraz over John Legend? You betcha. Does Justin Timberlake trump Usher? In his fucking SLEEP. I'd much rather hear you rock out on a guitar than make me a beat on your computer. Let's skip the soul food and go out for sushi. I like guys who wear pink. I love the accidental dorkiness that white boys tend to pull off so effortlessly. I enjoy soccer and listening to Beck, and yeah...I'd rather dance off beat with a guy I'm attracted to than be in a hot sweaty club with my ass in some black dude's crotch. So sue me. So maybe this paragraph is filled with stereotypes, assumptions, and bitterness galore. I'm making a point in my own little screwed up way.
When it comes down to it, I'm still Stephanie. I'm still the same chick who drinks a gallon of milk a week (2% ONLY, please!), loves to sing in the car, and giggles at the thought of whips and handcuffs. I love myself, and the fact that I love white boys too doesn't mean that I somehow "hate my skin color" or "wish I was white". I LOVE being a sista. I wouldn't change THAT for the world.
I was going to make a number two on the list, but I'm too tired of typing to make a meaningful point. And I've been typing this for almost an hour. So...I'm done for today. Perhaps a continuation will be in order for a later date. Until then...*gives a huge peace sign*
Oh, and P.S.: I'm not hating on soul food whatsoever. My grandma can THROW DOWN. ;)
As the summer winds to a close and I prepare for my junior year at SLU, I can't help but think of how amazing this summer was. It was definitely one of the best summers of my life, ranking just below that first summer in California 7 years ago. I just don't think I could have asked for much more. I experienced so much, and I learned a LOT in this short time. Rather than try to squish everything into this paragraph, I'll make a list. That's my nature, I suppose. I like lists a lot. :) So yeah...everything is a learning experience, and this summer was no different:
1. I've learned what I like.
I believe that a big part of knowing yourself is knowing what you like and dislike. What turns you on, what turns you off...what you look for in the opposite sex, your friends, etc. etc. So on that note, I've discovered (or maybe just finally accepted) what my family has (begrudgingly) told me for YEARS: I'm attracted to white men. And...I'm not attracted to black men.
*gulp* It took me about 5 minutes to type out that last sentence. I kept typing it, then erasing it, then trying to find a "nicer" way to word it. "Maybe I'm attracted to SOME black guys," I tried telling myself. "Don't exclude ALL black men from that statement," My head was telling me. But...*gulps again* It's true. Sure...I think Tiger Woods is hot, Will Smith is sexy for NO reason at all, and I can't take my eyes away from Morris Chestnut. Heck, I run into gorgeous black men everyday. Every DAY. I'm not saying that I don't find black men attractive, or intriguing, or intelligent...it's just that I cannot, for the life of me, picture myself in a relationship with a black guy. I've tried. I really have. I feel guilty as HELL for feeling this way. I think that for a long time, I worked SO HARD at convincing myself that I was attracted to black men that I started to believe it. I wanted my family to believe me so badly when I told them "I'd never date a white boy"...but...dammit...no. I can't lie anymore. I guess the whole situation this summer is what changed my mind.
Elaborate? Of course I will. I'm a picky girl when it comes to who I will date. That would explain why I've always been single. It's not because there's a SHORTAGE of guys that approach me (and for a long time, I lied about that too...the whole 'guys don't like me' bit), it's because I'm picky as hell. If there IS a boy that I start to like, I'll immediately find something wrong with him, even if it's the most miniscule, insignificant thing. And then he'll be gone. Just like that. *snaps fingers* For a long long LONG time, I thought something was wrong with me. I didn't know why I was turning down all of these otherwise wonderful men because they haven't heard of Muse, or because they were a tiny bit shorter than me, or my favorite one: "We have TOO MUCH in common". Yeah. Those are all excuses I've used to talk myself out of dating various guys.
Why did I expect everyone else to be perfect, when I'm far from it myself? It didn't make any sense until this summer, when I finally dated a white guy. Was he perfect? No. Did we have EVERYTHING in common? No. Was he a vegetarian? Not at all. But for once...that didn't stop me from liking him...from giving him a fucking CHANCE.
So...to make a long story short, I dated a guy and didn't immediately try to distance myself from him. Moral of the story? Perhaps I'm the last one to figure it out, but YEAH...I LIKE WHITE BOYS. I'll take spiky hair, black rimmed glasses, and Hollister attire over baggy jeans and braids anyday. Colin Farrell over Morris Chestnut? Heck yeah. Jason Mraz over John Legend? You betcha. Does Justin Timberlake trump Usher? In his fucking SLEEP. I'd much rather hear you rock out on a guitar than make me a beat on your computer. Let's skip the soul food and go out for sushi. I like guys who wear pink. I love the accidental dorkiness that white boys tend to pull off so effortlessly. I enjoy soccer and listening to Beck, and yeah...I'd rather dance off beat with a guy I'm attracted to than be in a hot sweaty club with my ass in some black dude's crotch. So sue me. So maybe this paragraph is filled with stereotypes, assumptions, and bitterness galore. I'm making a point in my own little screwed up way.
When it comes down to it, I'm still Stephanie. I'm still the same chick who drinks a gallon of milk a week (2% ONLY, please!), loves to sing in the car, and giggles at the thought of whips and handcuffs. I love myself, and the fact that I love white boys too doesn't mean that I somehow "hate my skin color" or "wish I was white". I LOVE being a sista. I wouldn't change THAT for the world.
I was going to make a number two on the list, but I'm too tired of typing to make a meaningful point. And I've been typing this for almost an hour. So...I'm done for today. Perhaps a continuation will be in order for a later date. Until then...*gives a huge peace sign*
Oh, and P.S.: I'm not hating on soul food whatsoever. My grandma can THROW DOWN. ;)
posted by Stephanie at
2:41 PM
