My struggle to go black
I have been thinking of writing this one for a while but kinda got emotional the first few times I started to write it but it’s some thing I wanted to write.
Most whites girls I’m friends with don’t really want to go black despite what they say. They just want the bbc and black thug rush but only if they can keep it a secret and no have to give up their white privilege or that nice white guy who will marry them and buy them a Lexus.
But that’s not what I wanted. I knew for a looong time I wanted to be the kinda girl who was on a black mans arm. I knew early on from reading and hanging around my black gal friends how different black men treated their women from white men and that’s what I wanted, that’s what I craved.
But it tore me apart because I knew it would cost me my family and friends.
I remember talking to one older aunt who was a total hippy that I could trust and she told me I needed to figure out if I was just in love with the idea of going black or it was something that I really wanted needed and was my place.
That really stuck in my head and I had a hard time. I felt like I went back and forth so much questing was this just something I wanted as a wild fantasy, but inside I knew it wasn’t.
I started hating myself for having these feelings. I wanted to know why I couldn’t be like my friends who wanted the nice lawyer husband and two k**s I drove around in my suburban.
That lead to cutting after one day out. I was standing in line and there was a group of black men in their 40s that were on lunch and very sweaty and to others I guess didn’t smell very well. But to me the smell was of them was like a cologne, it turned my on so much and all I could think of was them taking me in the back and passing me around. But not for the sex but for getting me preg.
I had to get out of line and run to the bathroom and just think and cry. Why the hell was I thinking shit like this and how to make it stop. This led into me cutting my self.
My aunt who was such a shoulder for me saw them on my thigh one day and she got really worried and sat me down and we talked. She told me I need to put this to rest and find out one way or the other if this is really my place.
It was so freeing to have her let me that like she was giving me permission. But I still didn’t know how or where to find someone to test the waters with. She told me she had a older black friend she had been letting read my online diary and she said he is someone I could trust.
We ended up hooking up and he opened my eyes to so much and really put me in my place. I was questioning it till the last minute but as soon as his hand were on me and he was inside me , everything felt right and I knew that’s where I was supposed to be.
Ill post more later but I just wanted to get as much typed as I could before I got emotional about it again.
Most whites girls I’m friends with don’t really want to go black despite what they say. They just want the bbc and black thug rush but only if they can keep it a secret and no have to give up their white privilege or that nice white guy who will marry them and buy them a Lexus.
But that’s not what I wanted. I knew for a looong time I wanted to be the kinda girl who was on a black mans arm. I knew early on from reading and hanging around my black gal friends how different black men treated their women from white men and that’s what I wanted, that’s what I craved.
But it tore me apart because I knew it would cost me my family and friends.
I remember talking to one older aunt who was a total hippy that I could trust and she told me I needed to figure out if I was just in love with the idea of going black or it was something that I really wanted needed and was my place.
That really stuck in my head and I had a hard time. I felt like I went back and forth so much questing was this just something I wanted as a wild fantasy, but inside I knew it wasn’t.
I started hating myself for having these feelings. I wanted to know why I couldn’t be like my friends who wanted the nice lawyer husband and two k**s I drove around in my suburban.
That lead to cutting after one day out. I was standing in line and there was a group of black men in their 40s that were on lunch and very sweaty and to others I guess didn’t smell very well. But to me the smell was of them was like a cologne, it turned my on so much and all I could think of was them taking me in the back and passing me around. But not for the sex but for getting me preg.
I had to get out of line and run to the bathroom and just think and cry. Why the hell was I thinking shit like this and how to make it stop. This led into me cutting my self.
My aunt who was such a shoulder for me saw them on my thigh one day and she got really worried and sat me down and we talked. She told me I need to put this to rest and find out one way or the other if this is really my place.
It was so freeing to have her let me that like she was giving me permission. But I still didn’t know how or where to find someone to test the waters with. She told me she had a older black friend she had been letting read my online diary and she said he is someone I could trust.
We ended up hooking up and he opened my eyes to so much and really put me in my place. I was questioning it till the last minute but as soon as his hand were on me and he was inside me , everything felt right and I knew that’s where I was supposed to be.
Ill post more later but I just wanted to get as much typed as I could before I got emotional about it again.
4 years ago
