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I feel like black men try to get over on females, and do sneaky things that they have no business doing.

For example texting other women, being very friendly with females, and hanging out with certain females that they should not be with.

Black guys have more easily understood my gripes about my hair or institutional injustice.

But I’ve long known that there is no such thing as a perfect partner. Along the way, I’ve dated white guys who wanted to learn about blackness; white guys who pretended my blackness didn’t exist; a Jewish guy who was well-meaning but politically infuriating; and a Honduran man who promptly ditched me for my best friend.

Meanwhile, throughout high school and college, the few black men I knew found my blackness as subpar to theirs.

As time passed, I realized that being black didn’t mean I had to look or act a certain way.

But black men seem to have a big issue with black women.

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Still, at times I feel ashamed for dating outside my race.

I walked down the cereal aisle in the grocery store, determined to finish my shopping list.

As I skimmed my eyes across the rows of boxes, I landed on what I was looking for: a jumbo box of Rice Krispies. I turned around and saw a handsome black man waiting patiently, with a cart full of groceries and a warm smile that briefly invigorated my tired spirit after a long day of work. This encounter was nothing unusual; I frequently have similar encounters with strangers at the grocery store.

He was wearing a professional outfit, leather dress shoes and a brown wool houndstooth coat with the collar popped. However, as I strolled past this man’s cart full of baby wipes, pullup diapers, fresh fruit and his own box of Rice Krispies, I felt an immense amount of guilt.

I am a black woman who has never dated a black man, and most days I don’t think twice about that.