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Have You Ever Asked A Light-Skinned Man If He Can Date You?

Lifetime has once again struck gold with its seventh season of Married At First Sight, pushing us to reflect on our own personal lives and how we navigate sticky dating situations.

If you aren’t up to speed, this season, participant Tristan Thompson told expert Pastor Calvin Roberson that he would prefer to be matched with a lighter-skinned woman because darker skin women don’t “melt his butter.” The remark, heavily doused in colorism, created an uproar on social media. Despite being raised by a mother and other family members who share the complexion he isn’t fond of, Tristan showed viewers he was set in his “buttery” ways. And while he has a right to his Antebellum South liking, it’s important to remember where such preferences come from and why we entertain them.

Last year, I began to examine myself and the men I was interested in after listening to psychologist Terri Cole’s Real Talk About Real Love seminar. Cole’s best friend, lifestyle author Danielle Laporte, moderated the conversation and asked a series of questions from women around the globe. The most-asked question was: How can I ask a man questions about issues that are important to me without scaring him off? Most participants claimed they were taught to dance around political or racially charged conversations because, god-forbid, you come across as “intense” or “too much” for a man.

Cole responded that women (or anyone for that matter) should never be afraid to lose someone who doesn’t respect their personhood, life experiences, or issues important to them. And while that’s easier said than done, I tried Cole’s advice with the men in my life and it quickly revealed the ones who were living in a “We Are The World” bubble.

For example, if I was pursuing a lighter-skinned man, I would ask what his family members thought about darker-skinned women and if they could bring home women who look like me. As you can imagine, some men thought my inquisitive approach was odd, idiotic and even uncouth. Others thought I was baiting them for a tiresome debate when in reality my intention was to protect my peace and self-esteem. My mother taught me to do the latter when I was a child due to her own experiences growing up in Guyana in South America.

My maternal grandmother was biracial and fair skinned. Since my mother didn’t inherent her light skin tone, she was treated like an indentured servant by some of her extended family members who identified as biracial or Portuguese. Her dark skin color pushed those family members to express their racial prejudices, making her aware that it doesn’t matter if you’re dealing with family or not, some people believe that your skin color depicts how you should be treated and automatically reveals your education level and socioeconomic class. Other stereotypes included the belief that darker-skinned people have a higher pain tolerance (regarding both physical and verbal acts).

When I asked my fairer-skinned boyfriend these questions, he became defensive because he has aunts who are darker hued. I told him that response was irrelevant, as my own maternal great aunts have demonstrated their own prejudices, suggesting I start skin bleaching so I won’t become too dark during the summer months since I love to “walkabout di place in di shining sun.” While some may say I’m projecting my insecurities, I believe it’s important to see how potential partners of all races and skin tones are able to discuss race and its complexities.

Before my boyfriend and I became exclusive I was starting to get to know a guy named Aden. Although we were of the same cultural background, Aden was of Indian descendant and I knew regardless of how sweet I was on him, that came with some racial baggage. The history between Indo- and Afro-Guyanese people is complex and that often spills over into personal relationships. So as we began dating, I asked Aden if and when we became more serious about each other would I be welcomed to his parent’s home for a traditional Guyanese meal. He casually said “yeah,” so I bluntly asked if he can date Black women in general because I’ve had Indo-Guyanese friends and relatives say (without saying) they would never be with a Black person long-term. Rather than consider my concerns, he went on the defense and angrily told me that he pays his own bills and dates whomever he wants. He then proceeded to block me and, by the way, never answered the question.

While some may say I’m doing the most, I say I’m creating a healthier environment for my future children. No matter if my children get my boyfriend’s racially ambiguous features and natural wash-and-go curl pattern, they still have to be taught how to navigate through life as Black people and, sadly, their skin tone and hair texture will affect that experience. I need to know my future husband is up for the challenge and understands my experience. An aunt of mine recently said that she was proud of me for choosing a “red-skin man” and I had to quickly check her by asking what there is to be proud of. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that his family members might think the opposite about his relationship with me.

My boyfriend’s looks won’t make our future family’s lives better or help us surpass the institutionalized racism set by the status quo. Instead, I believe, our lives will be better by co-creating a household where Black children can dissect and challenge race, the class system, and colorism without feeling guilty for wanting to make informed choices about themselves and those around them. Yes, we’re both Black but, unfortunately, due to our skin tones, our experiences are not always completely the same. I have to be with someone who understands that.

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