I’m one of the lucky ones. I have been in a loving relationship with my man for the past twenty-four years. We have argued, made up, faced dramas and shared dreams.
In Australia we’re a multi-cultural couple. I’m a white fella, and he’s a black fella. And it was his suggestion I write this post.
Kevin and Warren in 2009
Early in our relationship I was approached by another black fella in a gay bar where both my partner and I were enjoying a night out. He had been watching us, and then when I was by myself, he asked if I wanted to sleep with him as I was obviously into Aboriginal men.
I was upset. All of a sudden the man I loved was seen as my exotic bedfellow, while our relationship was seen as nothing more than a sexual one. I told the guy off.
Us, a lot younger.
In recent years the same thing happened again, this time in front of my partner. And yes, it was in the context of me being a white fella into black fellas. He even made eye contact with my guy to check if he’d mind sharing me around.
I simply said ‘no thanks but I’m flattered that you made a pass at me’.
Warren and Kevin in Tasmania
Somehow I had changed. I was now older. The truth is that I felt sorry for this guy, as did my partner. Whatever reason he had to read our relationship as one of lust and not love, was his issue alone. And it told us volumes about how he saw himself.
And that’s the fun of getting old. Other people’s viewpoints don’t need to impact on you. You just hope that in time, they see things differently.
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