Tag Archives: interracial dating

Love in Black and White

Black black

The funniest part of that night: he brought me Hennessy.


Everyone who knows me knows I don’t drink brown liquor. Besides, we had a conversation about my love for tequila days prior. I didn’t really understand.

But stereotypes are powerful like that.

An orchid kind of love this was not; but it’s the closest thing I’ve had to effort in a long time.

When was the last time someone sought me out?
When was the last time someone worshipped my body? (and not the other way around)
When was the last time someone made it a priority to please me?

Admittedly it was nice. There wasn’t really the spark I hoped for, but what we lacked in chemistry we made up with in kink.

“Ask me again if I’m an experienced top.”

I thrusted harder…deeper this time. A shiver ran through his obliques while a smirk emerged from his lips. He wanted to be disrespected and I was happy to oblige. Got to give the people what they want no?

One Mandingo fantasy coming right up!

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want…specifically from men. And whom to get it from. I’ve also been thinking a lot about my place in the sexual marketplace and how that bodes for my personal goals.

If there’s anything the last situation taught me, it’s companionship ain’t shit if you don’t see the person on a regular basis. Especially the way we socialize men to enter a space, get their needs met and walk away. I’m actually really tired of my future husbands coming and going as they please but not taking my feelings into account.

“I got feelings too.”

By the end of the night I ran out of lube…and excuses. There was no reason to stay in this cycle of disappointment. If I wasn’t getting my needs met, it was my job to find what I was looking for elsewhere.

Hell, I didn’t have to look far. He was on his knees licking up the rest of the cum off the floorboards.

The joke’s on me.

Tammy Hennessy

The Dating Game

The dating game 520x259

He’s Just Not that Into You (Best Date I’ve Ever Been On)

We talked online on and off for months. It wasn’t until I randomly realized he lived near me that I asked him out on a date. We set a day, but two night earlier I got a random text asking if I wanted to hang out then. I was ill prepared, but decided to say yes anyway because I really wanted to meet him.

I drove to his place and picked him up. You could tell he was nervous. He kinda just stared at me in the passenger seat. You could tell he had never met someone so sure of himself. I laughed.

“So where do you want to go eat?”

We drive to one of his spots to get chicken, his favorite food. We go back to his place and talk for a little while eating. He was exactly as I had expected. I couldn’t stop staring at his bottom lip. I wanted to jump on him right there.

He turned on the TV, doesn’t say anything. He goes through the On Demand choices and decides on Love and Basketball without consulting me. Did he put it on because I was Black? I wondered.

Funny story: At the time I’d never seen the movie. In fact, as the Nia Long stan I am, I was boycotting all those Sanna Lathan romantic comedies from the early 2000s because I felt she was encroaching on Nia’s castings. I only saw Something New because Simon Baker half naked was too good to pass up.

Ironically if you’ve seen the movie, you know it’s basically about these friends who became lovers then didn’t speak for a long stretch of time. And that’s kind of what happened. After the movie, I wanted to fool around, but he wasn’t game. The day of our actual date, he cancelled last min. I would seem him around, but we never really debriefed after that. I don’t think I was up to his beauty standards (he has a particular look he likes in Black men and I didn’t fit into it.), but I still appreciate the time we spent that night. Despite being a non-starter, I loved the bitchy/affectionate banter we had. I’m a homebody; silly nights like that with a boyfriend are all I really want.

Praise and Worship Service (Best Non-Date I’ve Ever Been On)

Also met online after a “hey, you live close by” type of situation. He wanted to meet for coffee, but I think it was an ambush for dinner.

“I’m hungry.”

I took him to my favorite soul food spot in the hood. Honestly the best conversation I’ve had in years. Our work is similar, but we were also able to connect outside of career talk.

It was such a beautiful night, we decided to walk back home. I was sloshed at this point. We pass by a church and the singing draws him in. They have the door open and we watch for a while. His smile is brimming from ear to ear, transported to another world.

I, was beginning to sober up and got more and more upset as I reflected on how random the night was.

“If there were no social media, would we have met?”

He looked bewildered, not knowing where this was coming from.

“You don’t go to the clubs, I don’t go to church…would our paths have even crossed?”

He didn’t know what to say. And truth is it wasn’t so much about him as much as it was about how I meet men in general.

We arrived back at my block and I think he wanted to be invited in. I was over it.
A. I haven’t bottomed in nearly a decade
B. Even when I did, I don’t get fucked on the first date
C. He already had several situations going on, I wasn’t going to be another notch on his belt

He has this tall, dark and handsome look going on and he can form sentences so I’m thinking he has offers all the time and doesn’t know how to court someone at my level. We’ve touched base since then, but I think he wanted to be chased.

I don’t chase after men.

I was so invested in getting a boyfriend a few years back and honestly I’m not sure why. Looking at the gay men I know in relationships, many of them don’t seem happy fulfilled. I’ve realized many men want a daddy, to resolve daddy issues, a mentor, or just want someone to take care of them.

I’m looking for a partner.
An equal.
Someone who inspires me.

But that’s not the game most gay men are playing these days. These two examples of non-starter situations that had so much potential, it’s clear I need to rethink some things.

If you’ve ever watched The Dating Game, you know how this goes: I may not have all the information I want at my disposal, but decisions need to be made. There’s always winners and losers, but I take solace in knowing what works for me and what doesn’t. Lord knows that’s half the battle.

Talk About Sex – 110: The XD (Sexual) Experience


I don’t remember the last time I was intimate with someone.

Poor XD! He thought he was coming to kiki with a perv, but once he saw I had did my research, he soon realized he was dealing with a professional sex master.

On this episode of Talk About Sex, we talk life, love and the allure of being the other woman.

Show notes & links:

sexual marketing in the Bay area

“I didn’t become Black until I moved to New York.”

Talk About Sex – 108: The State of Black Gay Media

sexual socialization and XY magazine

Black Inches/Latin Inches

“The Lord asked me to ask you: are you a homosexual?”

analyzing XD’s dating profiles

alter egos online

#DirtyInterviews Singer/Songwriter Metrell Hurst

From the Bottom to the Top: A Conversation with T. Malone

Love on Top

best practices for sexing someone internet famous

“I’m over these educated butch queens, no offense sex master Tony.”

dealing with rejection

Allure – All Cried Out

Looking for a tall, dark, macho man … sexual-role behaviour variations in Latino gay and bisexual men.

Dustin Ross


“I don’t fit the NY mold.”

Talk About Sex – 103: Me and Mr. Jones Part 1

XD the home wrecker

Charlamagne Tha God talks dating rules on “Bethenny”

XD’s evolving views on sex on the first date

“He was on the phone while I was inside him…”

The Sex That Ruined my Life

Community Emotional Threshold (timing issues)

The German

Talk About Sex – 109: Be Memorable



“People tell you to be yourself, but then when you go out they also tell you how…”

“…not to be yourself.”

What I love about this episode is how much what is not said is just as important as what is said (if not more):

Will McNair sits down to talk about sex on the best coast, black gay culture and life in the not so fast lane.

Editorial note: I say “I feel like…” a lot when I’m drunk.

Show notes & links:

NY state of mind

The random place Will lost his virginity

messages received as a child

porn as sex education

Mean Girls in junior high school

socially awkward vs. socially inept

Jared Shuler

Nathan Seven Scott

The & Show

Will’s “girly” Strengthfinder (lol)

meeting XD (search engine de-optimization)

dating in your 20s vs. dating in your 30s

“You’re not from NY are you?” (politeness)

“I’m a Disney princess inside.”

Prince Charming

Jesse Williams pic (colorism)

Mario Lopez: Saved by the Baby

being domestic and desiring the stereotypical nuclear family

Next magazine

My Masculinity, My Femininity, My Androgyny


Will’s one regret in life


Talk About Sex – 105: Superbowl Realness

Talk About Sex – 106: A Gay Benetton Ad


Benetton Unhate campaign

Karsh is BACK!
In this episode we talk about goals for the new year, gay representation and the politics of porn.

Show notes & links:

update on Q1 boyfriend goals

Is Discrimination on Grindr Killing Gay Sex?

He didn’t like the article

CA Podcast #8 – Sex & Dating Roundtable Discussion

Atlanta: open relationship capital of the country?

Maverick Men (NSFW)

Meet Kordale And Kaleb, The Gay Black Fathers That Have Outraged Twitter

Betty Proffer Benivegna goes OFF! (And I cosign)

Daddy Cream and Nate the Killa break up (NSFW)


WalkingWater (Marcus Bellamy) and alotaboutus (now gutted)

Ken Like Barbie

The German

Exclusive interview with RandyBlue model Sean Zevran (NSFW)

Johnny Angel (I love him. SIGH) (NSFW)

Sean Cody: Chad and Landon (NSFW)

Papi Chulo Radio

Blatino Oasis

Straight porn star Macana man aka Luis the naked truth

Trez and Fallen

Talk About Sex – 105: Superbowl Realness

Beyonce Unflattering Super Bowl Photos 01

In this episode, it’s NYC vs. ATL as I talk with Karsh, the black gay blogger himself. We reflect on love, lust and liberty in our respective cities.

Originally recorded in August 2013.

Show notes & links:

the state of NYC gay nightlife
Splash closing
gay dating racism
Strange Days (one of my favorite movies)
Trent not living a gay lifestyle
Love & Hip Hop Atlanta
The Dating Game
41 Reasons why you’re still single (Thought Catalog)
cuffing season
dating goals

The German

The German

“Frenchie, I really don’t feel like going out tonight.”

My dorm mate was harassing me to go party. At the White spot no less! Heaven, the twink club was down the street and we were on break in between semesters. I had only been a few times before and hated it every time. All they played was Top 40 radio and the White boys would get plastered and step all over me. Not my idea of a good night.

After tons of begging, I finally relented. We arrived, got some drinks and headed to the dance floor. I immediately caught eyes with a man who would change my life forever.

Here’s the thing: it’s not that I’m unattracted to White men…I just don’t get into the whole blond hair, blue eyed (Children of the Corn) look. I chalk that up to my hometown. Most of the cute White boys in high school had some sort of edge. At a minimum, they were brunettes. That preference continued with my soap opera crushes (Ryan Phillippe, Eddie Cibrian*) to movies (Brad Pitt, Paul Walker) to music (JC Chasez, Jon B.).

Anyway, that was not what we had here. Little trendy T-shirt and jeans hugging his ghetto booty. Dirty blond hair and light eyes. And he could dance! I was thoroughly impressed.

Frenchie went over and struct up a conversation. Turns out he went to our school (in a graduate program) and was here studying abroad. I smiled, introduced myself, and we had a great time the rest of the night. Thus began our semester long love affair.

Frenchie made it clear he was interested and wanted to try dating him. He’s also European (hence the nickname) and found it hard finding gays from his side of the world. But after a few times together at various places, it because clear to everyone involved The German and I had a better connection.

A similar sense of bitchy/sarcastic humor, he could often finish my puns. He was also a lover of R&B and introduced me to some European soul artists I was unfamiliar with.

They say you never forget your first and The German holds a few titles of mine.

He was the first uncut man I dealt with, which was funny considering how many Latino/Hispanic men I sexed before that.

He was the first person I went to Fire Island with. We went with my one of my straight boy besties and his side chick. Good times.

More importantly, The German was my introduction to intimacy. All the men I had sex with up until that point were straight-identified (read: put penis in orfice, cum, pretend it never happened…rinse/repeat). With the German, it wasn’t about the sex so much as everything that came along with it. With an openly gay man, I had access to all these things I didn’t before: hand holding, caressing, getting lost in ones’ eyes.

Having a stereotypical dorm bed, I often fell asleep on top of him to the rhythm of his breathing. I got so used to falling asleep with him in my arms, when he left my body physically ached for weeks, like some sort of psychosomatic atrophy. It literally hurt that he was gone. I wouldn’t wish that pain on my greatest enemy.

The situation wasn’t without drama. At some point people started referring to him as “my boy” which eventually ruined Frenchie and my friendship. I had never “stolen” a prospect from someone, I didn’t know how to react when he stumbled into my room drunk one night, collapsed and began balling.

“Why does he love you and not me?! What’s wrong with me?!”

Another time, The German and I were at the pizza place on Christopher street after a night of partying and got into a fight. He didn’t understand why I “wasted” so much time with my (mostly straight) floormates.

“They’re not your friends. They don’t even know who you really are!”

The German was out since fifteen. He didn’t understand how I was twenty-something running around still in the closet and not sharing that part of my life to friends and family.

Talking to him about race was even worse. People began to treat me differently…better. I didn’t understand the implications of a trophy White boyfriend until then. I tried to explain where I was coming from several times, but structural racism wasn’t something he seemed to be interested in acknowledging let alone fighting.

The semester went by so fast, we didn’t really get a chance to talk about next steps. I had just gotten into my honors program and moving to Germany wasn’t an option (nor something I was interested in). He also needed to go back to the motherland to finish his degree.

Over the next ten years, he would periodically come back to visit. We would write letters in between, but it wasn’t the same. And when he was back in New York, he was usually partnered. The boyfriend would pick up on our shorthand…needless to say none of them liked me. Awkward!

The German isn’t necessarily the one that got away, but he definitely has an impact on my current dating life. That whole White privilege thing irritates me in the obvious ways, but it has a major positive byproduct: direct communication.

The German never had a problem stating his piece. His wants, his needs, his desires was always put on the table, whether they were met or not.

Meanwhile, I can’t even get the men of color I date to answer simple questions (let alone explain themselves).

If there’s anything I miss about The German at the moment, it’s his transparency. There’s something magical about letting someone see all of you and experiencing them whole-heartedly. Most of the current men in my life I can’t do that with.

I can’t call him an ex, he wasn’t officially my boyfriend. But I can’t call him a friend either, it’s clearly more than that.

…so I always introduce him as The German.

Am I The Kind of Man I Want?

“Are we the kind of boys we want? And if not, who will have we, if we won’t have us?” – Yolo Akili

The strangest thing happened.

I spent the last two years trying to make this South East Asian man love me back (at the level I was at) to no avail. Then suddenly I got what I wanted…in another person.

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I was searching for an assistant in early 2012. It was my first hire at work and (if possible) I really wanted to use the opportunity to award a young man of color an entry level non-profit position and the mentorship I sorely lacked the last few years. (There’s another post dealing with that whole process, but I’m unsure if I’ll ever publish it).

I ended up with a nice young man; he wasn’t that young, but I read him as such. He has a research background like myself, but lacked real world experience. It was a perfect opportunity and he was eager to learn.

At some point getting to know one another it became clear he was primarily attracted to Black men and wanted to get it in. I have this policy; no sex with people I work with/will see on a regular basis for business purposes. It’s just better for my sanity and I’ve seldom broken the rule.

But the timing was interesting. Considering on paper he was everything I was fighting for at the time, I couldn’t understand why I was so blah about him. Upon further reflection, I realized why I wasn’t attracted to him. The epiphany shook me to the core.

OMG. He’s me! The Filipino version of me. That’s why I’m not attracted to him!!

I immediately thought of the docu-poem by Yolo Akili. The first time I watched I was amazed most of the guys explicitly mentioned gender presentation. Ten years doing this work and I’m still amazed at the varying definitions of “masculine” and “feminine.”

Back to me, there was nothing “wrong” with my assistant. I wouldn’t stop if I saw him on the street, but he was definitely attractive in his own right. His mannerism and such swayed towards “feminine” but he has a strong personality and his interested varied like mine. Overall I would consider him androgynous. Of course race factored into all these assessments.

But it was his personality that had me intrigued:

He was funny, but in a goofy/quirky way (like me…although I’m more dry/sarcastic/bitchy).

He was very smart and driven (also like me, though I tend to wear it in a more elitist way).

And he was definitely a caretaker (like myself). For such a young person, he read more “old soul” than I do (and that’s saying a lot). Loyal and humble, he would make a great husband. But there was something missing: excitement.

And as much as I call myself boring in a self-deprecating way, to see it…to experience it personified in another person was an out of body experience to say the least.

When you have a long term romantic relationship with someone, but you never get a label, part of what they rob you of is feedback. No label means no accountability. The two “relationships” I’ve had since returning to New York, both intimate but unstructured, didn’t allow a space for the two men to critique me in a healthy way. I know how I felt about them, but no concrete language about how they felt about me. I can analyze their actions (and reactions), but they were both non-communicative, so not in their own words.

And it makes sense. The Bay Area was a hostile environment for me. It was unsafe, unsupportive…dare I say unloving. A specific version of Tony had to show up to survive that experience.

Which is a complete mindfuck because that’s not the version of Tony my undergrad friends know. That Tony was much more happy go lucky. It wasn’t until I was back in NY and the two groups started interacting more frequently that I even suspected something was wrong. Only then did unpacking the trauma that was my Masters program begin.

So am I the kind of man I want? Definitely. I love me, I get me. But not the version I thrusted upon this man for the last two years. That Tony was operating from a deficit. He was so starved for a genuine connection, when he found it that fateful night in Orlando, he became fixated on keeping it by any means necessary.

In Yolo’s poem the participant at 3:15 says he would date “a more masculine version of me.” I get that on a certain level. On one hand, I want someone with the same values, but to honor my Learner, I also want someone with a different background/interests. Dating interracially is the easiest way to find that (though clearly not the only way).

It’s easier to appreciate the time I had with Boston boy with this new lens. I can’t speak for him, but the situation makes a lot more sense now.

Preferences, Pride and Prejudice (Part 1 of 2)


What does it mean when someone excludes themselves from dating an entire race based on a few personal experiences?
Lonnell Williams

You may want to watch these videos before you continue reading:

The original interview

Response from “the community”

Follow-up from Zeric

Don’t have time right now? I’ll give you the CliffNotes version:

Black Cuban model who was on a reality show does an interview on a popular internet show and explains he doesn’t date other Black/Latino men because they gossip too much, are incapable of monogamy and he prefers someone who doesn’t party a lot because his past relationships have been ruined due to him being “in the public eye.”

First I want to commend Lonnell for digging deeper when he didn’t have to. His Pillow Talk series has historically been playful and he could have easily glossed over the statement.

Also, I’ve never met Zeric nor did I watch Model City so I know very little about him. He’s made it perfectly clear he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’ll be the first one to tell folk not to expect much from celebrities/public figures.

It’s not so much his opinion; I’m much more disturbed by how many people are defending his statements. If you check the comments on all three videos (as well as video responses and on facebook) many people don’t seem to have a problem with what he said at all. They say:

I get where he’s coming from (He’s right: Atlanta queens are messy)
Attraction is attraction (the “innate” argument)
Dude was keeping it 100% (real) and like he said his comments were directly related to his experiences (the truth hurts)
Why is everyone so concerned about his personal life/preferences? (it’s none of our business if he prefers Italian/White men)

It’s really fascinating when you think about it.

A similar incident happened in 2008: A C-list rapper did an interview explaining he doesn’t like “dark butts” (dark skinned women). Black women rallied together; the collective response was we won’t tolerate this nonsense. They made sure Yung Berg stayed a one-hit-wonder.

Do we, Black/Latino gay/bisexual men (as a group of people) not have the same level of self respect?

Why is general racism (read: especially when it comes from White people) not OK, but sexual racism acceptable?

If you’ve had bad personal experiences dealing with a category of people, is it legitimate to write off everyone who fits that category in the future?

Swanee from Da Doo-Dirty Show, while talking about the Zeric controversy revealed he doesn’t date light-skinned Latino men because he was raped by two brothers when he was seven (41:00).

Justified racism or untreated PTSD? Both?

Microsoft just patented an “Avoid Ghetto” GPS app to help motorist steer clear of “dangerous” neighborhoods.

Racist or a good use of technology? Both?

The rates of HIV are so high in gay/bisexual Black men, should HIV negative men (including other Black men) avoid having sex with Black men to avoid getting HIV/STDs?

I guess this whole “Stop and Frisk” policy here in NYC isn’t so bad then eh? Young Black/Latino men commit a good percentage of crimes, we’ll just have to stop and search all of them even if there’s no probable cause.

Where do you draw the line?

(to be continued)

Final Hour

If you’re going to break up with someone you need to tell them face to face and you need to tell them why. You need to give them closure. I think the worse thing you could ever do to someone is not give them closure.
Joey Diamond – Breakups

I met a man once. Brown skin, a naughty smile that lit up a room. There was an instant connection. He was only in town for a few weeks, but I used what time I had to get to know him. On his final night, we were supposed to have a going away dinner. I called to confirm:

“I’m kind of ambivalent to dinner.”
There was a good thirty seconds of awkward silence.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.”

In my head I was thinking “Be excited for dinner. Say I don’t want to do this. Just have a reaction! Ambivalent? What the fuck does that mean?”

After all, we had spent considerable time together, the least we could do was have a last supper; even if he didn’t think this was worth pursuing once he left town. Needless to say we didn’t have dinner that night.

bscott wishful thinking.jpg

As you can see, I don’t go through the five stages of grief evenly. It’s usually very little denial, a period of sadness and anger. Lots of anger.

The worse thing you can feel in a relationship is disrespected. A year later, that’s exactly how I felt.

You know what the final straw was? I went to mail his birthday card and realized I didn’t have his home address; only his work. I kind of had a core meltdown. What kind of a man will let you into his body, but won’t tell you where he lives?

Actually, tons of people. People not looking for anything serious. I had answered my own question.

And there it was; the brutally honest truth right before my eyes.

Reflecting on both cases, I think the worse part is the unrealized potential. It’s not like I don’t meet great guys, I meet great guys all the time. But the timing is never right.

They’re either trying to restart their careers.
Or fending off family trying to arrange their marriage (to a woman!).
Or they’ve just been alone for so long that’s what feels safe.

And I get it, I was operating from a deficit once too. But can someone throw me a bone here? I just feel like people don’t even put in effort these days.

Especially when it comes to interracial dating. The differences that initially intrigues you becomes the “reasons” why that person can’t be fully integrated into your life. When you pit potential partner against culture, family and community win most of the time.

At some point you have to swallow your pride and realize you wanted it more than he did.