When I was 9, I was in the fourth grade. I liked unicorns, my teachers and friends, and my dance and piano classes. One day after one of my dance or piano classes (I can't remember which) my dad picked me up on his way home from work. All I remember is driving home in the car and listening to my father talk about how when I grew up I would need to consider race in my relationships. If I was to marry someone Black, I would need to consider how our relationship would be rejected among African Americans and among Chinese Americans... neither side would accept us. He went on to tell me that I also had to consider the position of my children, stuck between worlds.
At this point, all I could remember was thinking "CHILDREN!? Married!? I don't even like boys!!!!" But he went on, telling me that it wasn't any better if I was to marry a white man, because (and I'll always remember this) he said "Don't ever forget. You're not white, and marrying someone white won't make you white too."
I don't remember saying anything. I do remember thinking, "EWWWW BOYS!" Maybe I even said that out loud. Who knows?
Ten years later, I fell in love with my first boyfriend. He was white. Eventually things didn't work out, but one of the reasons why it didn't work out was because I decided two things: (1) I wanted a partner who understands first hand what it feels like to be racially marginalized, and (2) I didn't feel comfortable being in a relationship that could be viewed as being cliche... let's face it, Asian women and white men are way too common, and Asian American women with white men are viewed as "sell outs" or "self-haters" etc etc.
My most recent significant relationship was with a Chinese American man. That didn't work out partly because I realized that I wanted to be with someone with a stronger backbone, drive in life, and ability to engage in intellectual discussions about politics.
So far, I haven't had much luck in finding me a man of color (Asian, Latino, Black... whatever) who fits these basic criteria, who is interested back in me. I'm patient. I'm chill. I'm in no hurry, but what happens if along the way in my journey of life, I meet a white guy who exhibits a lot of what I look for, including first hand experiences of marginalization?
I'll tell you what happens. The thought never even crosses my mind that I could be interested in him, and I'm just me... and he may show a little bit of interest in me, because I'm just being me. And let's face it... me just being me is pretty cool. I'm confident, intelligent, witty, fun. A flirtation begins, because well... it's harmless fun flirtation... no big deal because it wouldn't go anywhere. And then it becomes completely awkward, because... we have already established that I become an awkward out of control freak when I think I might possibly be interested in someone. And I become DOUBLY awkward because not only am I awkward because I think I could be interested, but also because now there's a layer of "Oh SHIT! I can't be interested in a white guy! SHIT SHIT SHIT!"
and in the end... All is resolved because my awkwardness is plain FREAKISH.
