I don't post a lot. It's not that I don't have a lot to say- trust me, I do. But I was so afraid that what I was going to say would offend people that I would never go public with it.
I posted my last blog in January with a promise to take this year to even further discover who I am and make myself happy. Eight months into 2015, I feel like I've made good on that promise to myself. I am happy. But with that discovery, I've no longer decided to care what anyone thinks of what I have to say. So here's my new unfiltered blog. Sometimes I cuss and I'm almost never politically correct. Get over it or close your window.
So my topic, I guess you would call it, for the day is all over the media and it's run into the ground- racism. But hang on, because I'm about to blow your mind.
IT EXISTS FOR EVERY COLOR. I've known this for a while, but recent experiences have brought it to the front of my brain again.
Last January, I was sitting outside Iris in Atlanta when a black dude maybe three inches taller than me came up to me and asked if I'd ever been there before because I looked new. He wasn't hitting on me or being inappropriate; Dude was just making conversation. Then he said, "My name is Chris."
As we were chatting, he told me he mixed cheer music for a living (which is really cool- I don't care who you are) and that he lived in Columbus and used to cheer for CSU. Apparently the friends he was at the club with were fellow CSU cheerleaders, and he asked if I wanted to meet them.
Duh, right?
We approached the group and I recognized a tall, stocky white boy instantly. His name was Tommy, and we had gone to high school together. I had known him for years. In Lindsey's brain, this group from Columbus must be alright because Tommy wouldn't hang out with bad people. I was instantly comfortable, and I kept in touch with these guys on a weekly-ish basis and saw them at least once a month for the next five months.
Fast forward to May. I'm hanging out with friends in Newnan, which isn't extremely far away from Columbus. I text Chris, we make plans to go get lunch. He showed me an awesome BBQ joint and then we went to hang out with Tommy, his girlfriend, and a few other people from the clique down there. They were so much fun and just entertaining to be around, and I was so at ease, I stopped seeing color. I didn't notice who was black and who was white anymore.
So one night when Chris put his arm around me, I didn't think twice about it. The first time he kissed me, it was the same as every other first kiss of my life- fast heartbeat, sweaty hands, the whole nine yards. I never even thought twice. We had known each other long enough that the color of our skin didn't even cross my mind.
Until other people made it an issue.
It's New Year's Day 2015 and Chris and I have rung in the year in Atlanta. Benihana is across the street and we both love sushi, so we decide to go there for lunch. It's a really small lobby, and it's packed so full there's only room for us to stand. I start noticing the women around us giving me dirty looks and whispering to each other. I feel Chris put his hand on my back protectively and I hear them whisper something about "white girl". That's when I noticed I was the only white person in the entire restaurant. I guess I should mention here that Chris is the most well-dressed man in the restaurant as well, and I'd bet my last dollar he was the most well-spoken. He talks more proper than I do. So anyway. These people kept on for so long that Chris finally looked at me and said, "Do you want to leave?"
And we did.
On our way down the street, I was so confused by what their problem was. Wasn't it supposed to be dumb white rednecks giving HIM shit for being with me? That's when he kind of smiled at me and said, "You can't be a pretty white girl with a good-looking black dude. They don't like that."
When Chris and I reconnected a few months ago, I called my dad and figured I would get the race card out of the way. To be honest, I didn't know how he would react. My dad grew up in South Murray County and we have never talked about dating anybody of another race, because it just never came up. So, I told Dad all about Chris. Where he went to school, where he grew up, what he does for a living, how many brothers he has, that he has a Pomeranian named Sheila, how long I'd known him, the works. Then I said, "I just wanted to tell you about him because I'm sure you've already heard I've got pictures with a black guy on Facebook."
My dad said, "So what does it matter what color he is?" And I smiled. Because it doesn't.
I can post a picture with the next douchebag I meet from Dalton and within 24 hours it'll have 22 likes and three comments about how adorable we are. Chris has stood by me through every single one of those mistakes, and he still answers my calls. When we FINALLY get a picture together where we don't have to filter the shit out of it so that he isn't blending in to the sky and I don't look like a freaking ghost with no facial features, it might get six likes. That's just the way it is. Nobody likes the pretty white girls with the good looking black dudes.
This past weekend, I went to Columbus to visit. We were out to eat at a restaurant downtown on Sunday, and our waitress was a young light-skinned girl. We both ordered sweet tea to drink. Chris always had a full glass, and I never got a refill. It was so blatantly ridiculous.
Over the past year and a half, we both have felt situations like this, but his feelings aren't mine to tell. In fact, this isn't even ABOUT us. Or me. Or him. I just wanted to let everyone know that racism is out there for both blacks AND whites, and interracial couples are still an issue.
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