My military career was challenging. The workouts were exhausting but somehow I got through it. For a period of time I even learned the sport of boxing, which was basically pushed upon many of us by our staff sergeant. I was 28 at the time. Staff Sergeant Williams seemed to have a way to persuade us to do anything. He was really tough on us. Generally, he "picked on" the ones that needed "additional conditioning," to use his own words.
I was one of those pushed into Boxing Training because I would become fatigued so easily half way through even the basic workouts. In a sense, it felt like more of a disciplinary action although I am quite sure his intentions were all good. The others in the Boxing regimen volunteered because they all loved the sport as much as our Sergeant did. And, they would compete against other military divisions and keep score.
To them, it was friendly competition amongst men to prove their masculinity. The matches were only 3 rounds each, which doesn't sound like much to anyone who has never been involved in the sport. But, it is tough to do. For me, it became yet another source of humiliation and feeling defeated by the black man.
After 6 weeks of training with weights, sparring and conditioning I was told that I was ready to have my first "real" boxing match. One of the trainers had always tried coaching me to use my taller 6'4" height and long arm reach to my advantage, especially against the shorter boxers.
That first boxing match was against a 22-year-old black soldier who was about 5'9" tall, but powerfully-built. He beat me soundly. The one-sided fight was humiliating, but the trainer tried to encourage me.
"It takes a lot of time to learn this. Keep trying. Keep learning." he always told me.
Under the pressure of the Sergeant, I continued trying this sport but things were basically the same. All the boxers I would fight against were much shorter than I was. Unfortunately for me, though, they were all physically-gifted black men between the ages of 18 and 25.
In a period of 14 months I ended up losing all 19 of these 3 round boxing matches, ending my military boxing career with a 0-19 record. It ended mercifully when the black Staff Sergeant Williams was reassigned.
Some of his last words to me were, "You best give it up, boy." He said.
Thankfully, I did. I still kept in shape throughout my military career, though. I learned a great deal about nutrition and computer programming. I was fortunate to be able to travel to other parts of the world during this time. I lost my virginity in Germany, and even had a few relationships along the way. None of them were as serious as I had hoped for, but they were experiences that made me feel good about myself for awhile.
In my 14th year, I broke my collarbone in a routine obstacle course drill. I couldn't believe my luck when I was given the option to heal and then retire with a full pension. I was 34 and returned home, where I took a position in the private corporate sector of computer programming.
Things went very well in that area. I was making a great deal of money and didn't have anyone in my life to spend it on. But, it wasn't for lack of trying. I joined a dating site and spent the next 4 years on it trying to find "the right woman" for me.
Between the ages of 34 and 38, I had written to and looked at profiles of thousands and thousands of attractive white women in their 20's and 30's. However, I had only actually met and "dated" about 20 of them. None of them would last more than a few dates before they stopped answering my calls.
With half of them, it seemed like the dating stopped after the first or second time we had sex. I didn't fully realize this until much later. In my mind, I was pretty good at sex and possessed an average 6 inches with an average thickness. I wasn't really "small" down there.
Of course, I talked myself into believing there had to be other reasons why things didn't work out with these attractive women. I am sure there were in most cases. Still, I continued.
The more humiliating part of this whole online dating site was the ever-increasing number of white women who would designate their preference in a man's race as "any" or "black." In those first two years, the number of them seemed to double. In turn, the number of women with a straight preference for "caucasian" men seemed to be diminishing at an alarming rate.
"Gosh. Things are really changing in the world." I often thought.
"Why are there so many?" I would ask myself.
In my third year on this huge online dating or meeting site I began to expand my search to other women too. Previously, I had always looked for women who were single with no children between the ages of 25 and 35, which was closer to my age. Now, I was turning 37 and starting to look at women who were single or divorced "with" or "without" children between the ages of 21 and 40.
I think the number of white women who notated their racial preference in a man as "any" or "black" quadrupled. This is not an exaggeration at all.
Even more humbling was the fact that there were so many white women with a child or children from a black man. There, staring me right in the face were their photos proudly displayed for all to see. The prettiest and most polished blonde, brunette and auburn-haired white women with one, two or three black children. I swear to all that will read this story that there was even a few white women in their late 20's who had 4 or 5 black children.
"Geez! Doesn't any white woman prefer us white men anymore?" I thought.
"Have all women dated black men these days?" I wondered.
By this time, I had already began to realize that it was impossible to compete against a black man's masculinity and win the affection of a beautiful white woman. Like most of us white men, we know this as the humiliating truth. Many of us tend to ignore the fact that black men intimidate us, and make us feel like "pussies" around them. We avoid the subject entirely and pretend that it doesn't exist.
This search continued on for another year before I came across an amazing-looking blonde woman who was 26 years old. Her name was Juliana, and her profile was a sight for sore eyes.
Juliana was 26. Her profile described herself as somewhat of a computer geek, too. She was 5'4" tall and 120 lbs., with brilliant natural blonde hair and a 34D-23-35 figure. Her preference in a man was "white" and she was from Kentucky, but now living in the same state as I was.
I literally stopped dead in my tracks as I viewed her profile and continued to read more.
She named the town she was raised in, in that state, and mentioned she had just moved here near the city a month ago. She had attended only two years of college, and she was a struggling model and waitress with no children.
Julie mentioned she got along best with older men, and was looking for a "better life" with a successful man who could afford to travel and show her the world.
"Wow. That sounds like me?" I thought, hopefully.
As I continued reading, I saw that young Julie also preferred "strong, very masculine men" but she also buffered that phrase to say that this was not the most important quality in a man as far as she was concerned.
"Gosh, I can be that too." I thought.
I grew more anxious to read about her as I began to look up the demographics to the city she mentioned growing up in, and where she attended school. Embarrassingly, I will admit that the main reason for this inquiry was to see if Julie had grown up in a white or black region. After all the profiles I reviewed and the experiences I had, I just "had to know" if this beautiful blonde woman had ever dated black men.
Defeatedly, I knew deep down inside that if she had dated black men in the past then I would stand little to no chance of impressing her.
The demographics for that entire region was overwhelmingly white. More than 98 per cent, actually. I felt a since of relief as I clicked onto the section to view her other photos.
Julie was even more gorgeous in those next dozen pictures. One of them was her as a 21-year-old cheerleader, which was taken 5 years before. Most of the other photos were current, but the few in her little frilly cheerleader outfit sent chills down my spine.
"She is the perfect woman!" I gasped.
Yes, Julie was perfect to me. I can also guarantee that there is no man alive today that would not be attracted to her. She was that beautiful.
She seemed smart, cheerful, friendly and loved computers. Her petite, trim waist and incredibly large breasts made my jaw drop. Her shapely legs, perfect smile and pale complexion were right out of the pages of a Scandanavian Model Magazine. Her soft, bluer than blue eyes in those photos made me "sigh" in utter disbelief. More importantly, she liked slightly older white men who were successful.
"I have to go all out for her." I thought.
"I have to meet her!" I told myself.
So, I did what most white men would do in order to gain the attention of a beautiful white woman. I exaggerated and even flat out lied.
Many would not understand why us white men in our 30's and 40's feel compelled to "fib" about ourselves to get a younger woman. But, it really is the demoralizing truth. Black men seem different. They could care less. Their natural boldness, confidence and aggressiveness combined with their natural physical superiority and dominance are enough for them. It's like they know they can easily get any white woman to kneel before them and worship their black cocks like they were gods. It is more difficult for us white men.
Immediately, I went to my profile and edited it more in the direction of the beautiful blonde woman's pereferences. I added to my already high salary, and mentioned my days in the military. I added that I was a successful boxer to show my false strength and masculinity, and I exaggerated my toughness in other sports, where I used to date cheerleaders. Yes, I wanted to show her that pretty cheerleaders would date me, which was another lie. I even mentioned that I was "well-traveled" more than just my days in the military. I described myself as a former athlete turned computer geek who was a chivalrous gentleman with a passion to protect a woman and defend her honor at all costs.
In reality, I was a big white sissy who had become intimidated by black men. I was a timid weakling who had lost the only date he ever had with a cheerleader to an aggressive black man. And, I was a tall white wimp who had lost every boxing match he ever had to a stronger and more masculine black man.
I was also a white coward who had to look up the demographics where a woman was raised to make sure she hadn't ever dated a black man before.
"She didn't have to know all that." I reasoned.
Pathetically, I altered my online profile in an attempt to compete with any black guy that might see hers. I wrote a note and asked her if she would like to meet. Hopelessly, I hit the "send" button.
And, it worked.
The next day, she responded with a return email. She wrote that she couldn't believe how perfect I sounded in my profile, and she suggested we talk on the phone that night.
