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Where friends from home had laughed in my face, believing my taste in guys had somehow done a 180 as a result of moving to the city, black guys I currently went to school with were intrigued.I began receiving attention from darker skinned guys, one even proclaiming with a wink that he had “never had a white girl before” as if conquering a white girl is some badge of honor or just something to check off a list.They seemed to be intimidated by my dozens of Facebook pictures with darker men, causing them to run before they even got to know me.

The first time I had ever questioned my physical appearance was before I even began first grade.

How many times had I said “Mom, I met this guy, he’s white”?

No matter how anxious I was to tell my family about my boyfriend, I felt proud of my interracial relationship, like we were the result of the world uniting and becoming a better place.

He showed me new music, food, and gave me a new perspective to consider.

His family welcomed me with open arms and I am a better person because of it.

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