Stop Giving Me the Stank Eye: My Relationship Doesn’t Mean I Hate All Black Men!

If you’ve ever dated interracially, you’re bound to get “the look” someday. Yes, even in this day and age, that ish still happens! You could be out to dinner with your honey or sitting in a theater, sharing some popcorn, and waiting for your movie to start. You may not notice it at first, but gradually you’ll get that eerie feeling that you’re being watched. Or you'll hear someone loudly suck their teeth next to you then mumble to themselves. You’ll turn and notice “the stare” — it’s pretty damn unmistakable. The person might stare at you slack jawed, like you just sprouted a unicorn horn. Or they might gaze at you angrily like they’re trying to melt you with laser beams shooting out of their eyes.

After ten years of being together, my husband and I are old pros at receiving “the look.” At first, when we would get the stares from strangers, I’d ask him if something was hanging out of my nose or if I was talking too loud. He’d smile patronizingly and say, “You know that’s not it.” I just didn’t understand why people — mostly black people, unfortunately — were staring at us. It's not like interracial couples are that much of an anomaly anymore. (Look at any movie premiere, black awards show, or NFL and NBA sidelines and you’ll see plenty of them!) But when you specifically look at statistics of black women who marry outside of their race, then you realize maybe we are as rare as unicorns. According to 2012 report from the Pew Research Center about 24% of all black male newlyweds in 2010 married outside their race, compared with just a measly 9% of black female newlyweds — one of the lowest percentages for all racial groups.

Eventually, I learned to ignore the stares, but to this day — deep down — it still bugs me. I felt bad when I watched the episode of Tia and Tamera and Tamera lamented about how she hated being judged by others because her husband, Adam, was white. “Has anyone ever called you 'the white man's whore'?” she asked her twin sister before bursting into tears. (For the record, NO ONE has ever called me “the white man's whore”... at least not to my face.) I shook my head when I read an interview with Paula Patton in which she revealed she was so ashamed to let everyone at her high school know that she was dating Robin Thicke (yes! Fine ass Robin Thicke) that she skipped going to her prom rather than go with him. I don't know and will never meet these ladies, but we have something in common: we hate being judged for who we fell in love with.

Don't call her "The White Man's Whore": Tamera Mowry and her hubby, Adam

Sometimes, I feel like I should walk around with T-shirt that says, "Please Don't Give Me the Stank Eye: My Relationship Doesn’t Mean I Hate All Black Men!" because really... I know that's what people are thinking. I've heard all the theories: That black women who date interracially have given up on black men... that we have deeply seated issues with our black identity... that we can't take a "strong black brother" and want a weak white man we can’t boss around... that we just "wanna' have white-looking babies." (The last one in particular cracks me up. You'd have to be a real nutball to have a relationship and a child with a man just to have light-skinned children. It’s not like I get a prize for it.) And in the end, I know that these people are really projecting their own fears, insecurities, and misgivings onto me. Like it or not, my relationship can make them question, "Why did she give up on us?”, when the truth is, I didn’t. I simply fell for the person who turned out to be the best match for me.

Oh, no, Paula didn't try to date Robin Thicke on the down low!

The good part about this is the stares have led me to do my own self-examination. I remind myself that I also was one of those people who stared at black men who had chosen to date interracially. I wondered what latent psychological issues they were working though, when the truth was for most of them, probably none. (Well, except Kanye West. Judging from his songs, that dude is truly colorstruck!)

I fell for my husband not because he’s white, but because I thought he was cute, smart, and funny… because he has a great sarcastic sense of humor.  I love that he wears St. Louis Blues hockey jerseys around the house, that he collects Batman comic books, is a big fan of Asian horror films, and will gobble down key lime pies. I love that... wait, a lot of what I love about him sounds a lot like my father. So there! I’m not dealing with color issues. I have an Electra complex! LOL

Black Girl Nerds contributor, Shelly Ellis