This "video girl" side of me comes out from time to time on the weekends, if I'm going to concerts/events, or when I just want to look sexy.
The messages this profile received reflect how dramatically a few accessory and wardrobe changes influenced who some users assumed I was, and the degree to which they fetishized me.In comparison to the "video girl" persona, this look garnered responses focused on the interests I listed on my profile."Oh I've had the vanilla, I think I'll have a scoop of the chocolate just to give it a whirl." Some of the responses made me feel like a lot of people think of me as just a different flavor, so much so that I considered calling the whole experiment off.It wasn't until I talked to a friend of mine that I decided to trudge on.I started experimenting with African head wraps and traditional prints in an effort to embrace a side of my heritage that had previously gone unexplored.
I felt that this look was the look where my race was most blatantly on display (or at least it was supposed to be), but only one visitor mentioned my race explicitly.
It's hard to see how people think of you written out as opposed to just living your life without knowing.
What does it even mean when someone says "I've never dated a black girl but I've always wanted to?
Will I always be perceived as the black girl with the big tits and the fat ass, or am I seen as the black girl with the big tits and the fat ass because of the way I dress? When I almost moved into a notoriously crime heavy part of Boston, my mom and I had a chat. I'm a grown woman, and I should be able to wear whatever I want.
She talked to me about crime rates, about how to be safe at night, about my behavior, and most importantly to her, about the "provocative" way I sometimes dressed. But my mother -- like it or not Mom, this is true -- cares a lot about how people perceive her, and me.
I was taught from a young age about the importance of perception.