She spent years with a man whose views I despised? Well there must have been something about him you liked! They used to take women like you and shave their heads!
How is Erika Schickel not a racist herself? She was putting out for a racist, knowing he’s a racist, when she was young and hot. But hey, she’s a girl, so it’s A-OK folks. Now she can meet a nice non-racist chump to marry her, after she rode the carousel with a rich racist!
I remember the moment I discovered my lover was a racist. I was madly, deeply in love with a rich man 16 years my senior. We were about a month into our affair, sweet-talking each other on the phone late one night, when I mentioned I had long admired the comedian Dave Chappelle. My lover drew in his breath, and his tone ran to ice. “You’re not a mud shark are you?”
I had never heard the term “mud shark,” but I guessed its ugly meaning (a white woman who only dates black men), and I was nearly speechless with horror. I grew up in an ultra-liberal family, and I had never encountered such blatant racism before. It knocked the wind out of me. I sputtered, objected and reasoned with him. What I did not do that night was leave him.
As Roissy Heartiste says, a woman will rationalize her hamster, and try to reform the bad boy. Check and check.
I wonder if V. Stiviano went through the same twisted moral negotiations I did as I continued in my relationship. Encountering my boyfriend’s bigotry was like wading into a dark, murky pond. It was cold and unfamiliar, and the bottom was icky and scary. But I convinced myself if I kicked hard enough I could swim above it and never touch the muck. The thing that buoyed me was my own sense of loyalty. I may be in love with a racist, I told myself, but I was also standing by my man. It was my sacred mission to bring him over to love and acceptance. I would change him. But secretly I wondered if, in fact, he was changing me. Did loving a racist make me a racist as well?