I like white boys.
I don't have anything against black guys, and I don't discriminate at all, but I just have a thing for white boys. Now, that shouldn't be a problem- I mean, it's 2014 for Christ's sake-but I live in the deep south, where white guys generally don't spare girls like me a second glance. It's gotten to the point where I can't think a boy is cute without a little voice in my head telling me that a guy like him wouldn't even consider dating a girl like me.
BUT, there are the rare-and I do mean rare- occasions in which it seems like I have a shot. That's when the doubt creeps in. I start to wonder if this guy likes me for me, or if he just wants to see what being with a black girl is like. That little voice in my head comes back again; telling me that I'm just an exotic plaything to him, and that he'd never acknowledge me publicly.
Honestly, sometimes it feels like a lost cause. I feel like I'll never be good enough, pretty enough, white enough. I'm black, and proud of it, but where I live, that makes me a last choice no matter what.
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