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We shook our heads and commiserated over ice cream, trying to draw our attention away from the incident. "I asked him what he thought of interracial relationships," she said, speaking of a white boy she had liked.

Rejection happens, and far more frequently than most would care to admit. "Specifically, I asked him if he had any reservations about dating me because I'm black. Then I asked him if his family would have an issue with it, and he said they would.

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I wanted to date men who weren't just okay with my color; I wanted them to appreciate it and all of the unique benefits that came with it, and I would do the same for them.

White men had always told me either indirectly or explicitly that they could not enter into a serious or public relationship with me because of my race.

They couldn't bear to disappoint, anger, or betray their white families by being the one who brought the black woman to Thanksgiving dinner. My parents told me to date and marry people who made me happy and treated me with the utmost respect, no matter their color.

We always blamed ourselves because we did not want to grapple with the morose reality that we could be denied the most fundamental of human experiences--love--because of the color of our skin. It initially seemed illogical to me that color or race could be a major (and sometimes the only) determining factor when deciding whether or not a woman was deserving of public affection and a serious relationship.

It hurts and it's embarrassing, but it's also an unpleasantly common part of dating and relationships. Not too long after that, he said that he wasn't ready for a relationship, but I saw on Facebook that he was in a relationship with another white girl less than two months later."She continued, speaking more generally about what it meant to be a black woman interested in dating a white person. My friend and the boy texted on a regular basis, they went on dates, they confided in each other. He couldn't view a black woman as being attractive or as his wife because he had never really interacted with them as a child, with the exception of the black women he saw as nannies to his friends, in rap music videos, and on reality TV. That would be the hardest concept to articulate: "No, you're really quite wonderful, except for the pesky albatross of your blackness."I could have viewed Kat's situation as an isolated incident, an unpleasant-but-inevitable side-effect of living below the Mason-Dixon.

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