One of my New Year's Resolutions is that I want a Black male lover. After dating mostly White guys and Arab guys, I'm ready for something different and it doesn't get more different than a Black man. Kind of easy to acquire one in this day and age, but I yearn for something really special. A smart and sexy brother, not just a dick on two legs. Still, I'd like to think with a little work and effort, anything is possible.
My name is Augusta Khaled, and I'm a young woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born in the environs of Baalbek, southern Lebanon, to a Lebanese Christian father and a Senegalese mother of partial French descent. I am Black, European and Arab, the daughter of three very different worlds. My parents, August Khaled and Michelle Camara moved to Canada with me fifteen years ago. A lot of Africans and Arabs are moving into Canada, where they form sizeable portions of the immigrant populace in this part of North America.
I stand five feet eleven inches tall, slim and fit but quite curvy where it counts. I have light bronze skin, long curly Black hair and pale brown eyes. I think I get my great height, big breasts and large buttocks from my mother, who is herself half Black and half White. As for myself, people often think I'm either totally Arab or Hispanic, but I remind them that my mother is of partial African descent. I am a woman of color through and true. That's how I identify and I am absolutely proud of my origins. Even though I grew up in the Lebanese Christian community of Ottawa, Ontario, I've always been fascinated by people of African descent. I do have some African blood in me, as do many people in the Arab world, even though they often deny it.
I'm ashamed to say that I once gave into that pressure which mixed people often feel in today's society, which is far from color blind. A lot of the mixed guys and gals I knew growing up tried to identify with the non-Black side of their heritage, and they figured the world would go easier on them because, well, it's tough being Black. I once felt that way, until I discovered that by embracing my African heritage, I was tapping into a great power. The power of Black women and Black men who came before me. Greater than anything my Lebanese heritage could provide, because no one out there is as resilient as the Black person. Every day Black people endure hell on earth, yet in spite of racism and the nightmare they endure, they seem happier and more alive than any other race of people. I guess that's why I am proud to say that I am part Black. I'm not Lebanese or French. I'm a mixed woman.