Indian girls dating black men
A “you are like that, and that’s bad.” The concepts of good and bad within Indian society, particularly when it comes to women and girls, are built around virtue. This is widely known to be the case in India itself, where women’s lives and choices are largely restricted and controlled supposedly for their own safety.But in reality, these protections are meant to hinder their sexual freedom, not ensure their overall wellbeing.This may sound extreme, but it’s the reality I lived.I undoubtedly stood out in this context – ashy knees in the winter, unruly mane of thick, black hair in a sea of pale midriffs and near-ubiquitous gold or platinum highlights – but I was also invisible.Guys came to me at parties and in the cafeteria to talk about who in my clique they were currently hoping to pursue. Women of color were mostly unseen as partner options.I listened to boy banter about which girls were hot; the only time I ever heard a non-white female being discussed was when someone had fooled around with a black girl and then subsequently made fun of her vagina. And if we landed in the purview somehow, it was, at best, to be mentioned as perhaps pretty and then quickly dismissed (you know, the “Wow, you’re pretty for an Indian girl” line) or, at worst, to be ridiculed for our ugliness.
My friends flirted, dated, and hooked up casually and significantly.Half a lifetime of words about big dicks, super-sperm, promiscuity, sexual prowess, and insatiability, etc. ” put on me by the white boys who ruled the Briarcliff social world.At 17, I didn’t know how to have a voice about the exoticization, and implicit oversexualization, of me and my choices.I would spy him coming back from class and get the jitters. Everyone turned to do their own individual nitpicking before agreeing that, yes, Chaya does look a little weird. Sometimes people looked “less Indian” than other people. But the others seemed to understand something about the final comment that I missed.“You know…” she said, squinting her eyes and thinking, calculating, “You almost look black.” Everyone laughed. The way they regarded me after drawing that collective conclusion was poignant – there was mockery but also something stronger: a disdainful othering.