A white girl’s perspective on interracial dating

I have a feeling I’m about to get blasted in the comments here, since interracial dating is such a taboo topic.  Let me begin by assuring you that I’m not racist at all; I have friends of all enthnicities, and I fervently believe that everyone should have equal rights and opportunities.  In the dating world, however, this gets tricky because personal preferences come into play.  In theory, I’m open to the idea of dating men from all different races.  But in reality, I’ve only ever found myself attracted to white men.

Why is that, I’ve often wondered.  As a blonde, blue-eyed white woman, I suppose it makes sense that I would be most attracted to men who look like me.  Studies show that people tend to choose mates with similar genes as themselves.  Yes, interracial marriages are on the rise (and it’s great that they’re becoming more universally accepted by society).  And I know some people dream of a future where all races will eventually blend together into one multi-race.  A one-race world would be nice in a lot of ways (the end of racism!), but I really think it would just be boring if we all looked alike.  Certain traits, such as blonde hair and blue eyes (being recessive), would disappear completely.  In fact, natural blonds are expected to go extinct by 2202.  If I want little blond, blue-eyed children who look just like me, then I need a mate with similar genes.  It’s just biology.

I often feel guilty that I only date white guys, but it turns out I’m not alone.  Statistically, white women are the most race-conscious daters in America, with the majority indicating on online dating sites that they only date white men.  In contrast, white men are less likely to indicate any racial preference, and when they do, it’s typically to exclude a particular race (not the entire non-white spectrum).  White women are less likely to interracial marry than white men are, but when they do, the odds are stacked against them.  The divorce stats are striking: white men married to non-whites have the standard divorce rate.  But white women married non-whites have a far higher rate of divorce.  This effect is especially pronounced in white-woman-with-Asian-man marriages, which have a 60% higher rate of divorce than whites who marry whites.

Statistics and genes aside, I really would like to try dating men of different races.  I’ve been pursued by Blacks, Indians, Pacific Islanders, and many ambiguously ethnic guys, but I’ve just never met one I’m attracted to.  However, I’m always on the lookout for a particularly sexy specimen that will prove to me that I CAN be attracted to non-white men.  It just hasn’t happened yet.

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July 31, 2012. Tags: , . Uncategorized. 5 comments.

My First Attempt at Dating “Open Office Hours”

Last week I blogged that I was sick of online dating and announced an entirely new dating concept: The Match.com “Open Office Hours.”  So, how did it go?

Well, the first surprising finding (I’m sure this will shock you as well, dear reader) was that guys actually showed up!  I mean, I sent out the mass email invite partly as a “I’m so sick of match, let’s just hit the self-destruct button on this thing and see what happens” maneuver.  Call me a hypocrite, but if I received a Match email like that, I would think the guy was the biggest douchebag of all time and hit delete.

So, I specified that office hours were to run from 9-11pm.  In typical style, my entourage and I arrived at 10:00.  There was already a line out the door at Drink, which the bouncer advised had a one-hour-plus wait time.  An hour?  As if!  Screw “open office hours,” let’s head across the street to Lucky’s instead.  As we were gathering up the troops, a lone, 35-ish man with a heavy Russian accent approached.  “Are you Daphne?  I was just about to leave, I’ve been waiting outside since 9.”  Oops.

We invited Vladamir to walk across the street to Lucky’s with us.  Unfortunately, within 10 seconds, I quickly surmised that Vladamir, while a nice and educated guy, was absolutely painful to talk to.  He was stiff and boring and acutely uncomfortable.  “You may have noticed my accent,” he said.  Uh, yeah, I did.  Where’s it from?  “Canada. Montreal.”  No freaking way this guy had a French Canadian accent.  I wanted to ask from where he had moved to Montreal, but let it slide, as I didn’t really care and didn’t want to encourage more conversation.  My girlfriends instantly deduced that Vlad and I were, sadly, not a romantic “match” and came to my rescue, suggesting we move the party to another bar.  Without Vlad.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” I said, offering my hand for a shake.  “We’re heading on to the next bar.”

In the meantime, I’d been texting with another guy from Match, Ryan, who let me know he had been waiting at open office hours, but left when I didn’t show up.  “Sorry I was late!  There’s actually a line at Drink, so we’re heading across the street.”

“Be sure to tell Vladamir, he was looking for you.”

What???  Ryan had met Vladamir?  Just how many guys had shown up for these office hours, exactly?

When I finally met up with Ryan that night, he told me the story.  He was waiting in line at Drink behind Vladamir and struck up a conversation with him.  Then the bouncer came through the line and started asking people if they were part of a party or group.

“I’m meeting a girl named Daphne,” said Vladamir.

Ryan’s eyes popped.  “Uh, I’m just here meeting some friends,” he lied.

By the end of the night, I decided that open office hours had been a smashing success.  I had a fun night out with my girlfriends.  And I met two Match guys who were interesting to talk to, even though I ultimately didn’t think there was much of a “spark.”  I got to check two candidates off the list.  And really, Ryan and Vladamir are exactly the kind of men I’m hoping to weed out with this whole office hours process.  On paper, they’re both great guys, and very smart.  But in person, they were clearly just wrong.  I could have wasted weeks going back and forth with emails, getting to know these guys, only to have been disappointed (and wasted a whole evening) meeting one of them for a date.  Clearly, the office hours are much more efficient.

The girls and I are going to try it again, but with a few lessons learned:

1. Don’t go to Drink.  The line is way too long.

2. Keep in mind Daphne’s inability to be on time for anything when scheduling office hours.

3. This one isn’t really a “best practice,” and it might even be disastrous, but Elbie is insisting that I should let her hand-pick some of the men who come to the next office hours.  Knowing Elbie, she’ll probably pick some crazies just for the entertainment factor.  God knows there are plenty to choose from on Match.

May 21, 2012. Tags: , , , . Uncategorized. 1 comment.

It’s Official: Boston Men are Biggest Pigs in America

Pig With Bow TieNot that you needed a study to tell you this, but the dating scene in Boston is bleak. To quantify exactly how bleak, some researchers recently conducted a study on men’s and women’s attitudes on dating in different American cities. Turns out, men in Boston are the biggest pigs in America, with one in eight Boston men expecting sex on a first date—the highest ratio in the country. In a related finding, Boston women are the unhappiest daters in America, with more than 26% complaining about their love lives. (Compare that figure to top city Washington, DC, where 87% of women are actually happy with their dating lives).

So what’s a poor Boston woman to do? Move away? That’s probably the best option, although I have discovered a workaround. For the most part, I have sworn off Boston men for good due to the fact that after years of dating in this city, I still have yet to find a native Bostonian who really makes my heart race. Instead, I’ve gotten good at seeking out the imports: American men who move here from other cities or–even better–European imports.

For more survey results, you can see the Glamour slideshow here:
http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2012/03/the-secret-dating-world-of-american-singles-glamour-april-2012

March 26, 2012. Tags: , . Uncategorized. Leave a comment.