As a 19-year-old gay man, moving to Europe from Jamaica, which has had a reputation for being very homophobic, was a huge deal.

I took the stories my straight female friend had told me about romantic Italian men and crafted idealistic fantasies of falling in love. I imagined having him visit my window sill every night with a bouquet of roses, a box of chocolate, and a sweet tune in declaration of his undying love for me. I was ready — I downloaded every dating app you could think of — Tinder, Grindr, Romeo, etc. I was excited to be presented with a flock of beautiful and sincere men, from which I would then have to make the heart-rending choice of only one.

Instead, I felt like a piece of fruit, thrown into a sty of pigs. Within a month of using the apps, I realized that being black might not be so easy here, and I interpreted my landlord's comment about me not being an "average immigrant" to mean, "You're not average, negro." I began considering deleting all these apps, which meant saying good-bye to the popular "AMO NERI" (I love blacks) profile titles and the "sex for money" offers I would get every so often. Despite all of this, I managed to maintain the hope that somehow someone would actually ask me out for a meal instead of just a hookup.

By the third month, I noticed I was apparently an object. It was not because I was young or any of the personal qualities I came to harshly evaluate after weeks of questioning what was wrong with me. I decided it was because I am black — even more so, Jamaican, which meant many people apparently view me as "exotic." I had never experienced being objectified, and soon I began to battle with the thought of whether this was in fact racism or racial profiling.

So I decided to give these hookup apps a chance, in order to do some research on whether these men who had been so kind as to share their dearest fantasies of me would also actually be interested in going out for a meal or, furthermore, embarking on an actual relationship. Interestingly, when I asked, I was immediately dismissed and blocked by the "pretty boys"; the other guys who were interested in meeting me responded pretty much by saying I wasn't their type, while the other handful who were actually up for meeting for a date were mostly over 50 years old or immigrants. In my experience, the European gay community that I encountered was interested in having me help them fulfill the fantasies they'd created based solely on the color of my skin, but they were completely opposed to the idea of a date or a relationship.

As plain as it was, I still found it hard to label these blatant acts as racism, since the people committing them were likely doing so unintentionally. I began questioning every aspect of my being: Am I too gay? Am I too young ? Am I not attractive enough? For weeks, I was convinced that I was the problem. Until one evening, after finally being asked out on a date by a man, my date stood me up, saying he wasn't able to come. His reason was that he was afraid. When I asked him to honestly tell me why he felt threatened, it all led back to my being black.

That was my a-ha moment — there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. Does the ignorance of these men make their racial profiling any more permissible or acceptable? No, it absolutely does not. We are not your fetishes, we are not your sex toys, we are not your negroes, and if you are turned on by someone only because of the color of their skin, or any racial attributes, but can't see them as your ideal partner in any case, you're probably being racist. Now that you know better, do better.

And if you're a minority, know this: Someone who says they are interested in you should be just as comfortable with the idea of joining you for a meal before or after your hookup session. Know that your value is not defined by a high or low demand for hookups or based on the assets you've acquired from your racial background.

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