In the fall of 1997, I started 6th grade at a day independent school in Connecticut. I grew up in a predominately West Indian neighborhood surrounded by faces like mine, but my father wanted me to have a more rigorous education. I entered the school being one of three students of color in my class and it was a shock for me. It was not as though I never been around white people, but I never been surrounded as much as I had been when I started at this school. I spent seven years at the school. I grew up and became a woman at this school. I also fell in “love” at this school. Because there were no men that looked like me I found love in the white male and since then I have always been attracted to white males. I have been ridiculed for such preference and felt guilt that I am attracted to such and at times feel as though I am offending my black race. However, I also feel as though white men do not take me as seriously either. They date me because they are curious. They want to know if dating a black girl feels different. If making love to her feels the same…and at the end of the day. I always feel prodded and used. I have grown not to trust love and wonder how much of race has to do with it. I sometimes feel trapped and feel as though I will forever to be alone.