I hadn’t grown my horn yet. The thing that would keep the wrong men away, the ones who fetishised and confused me for other-worldly creatures I didn’t know.
“Nubian Queen.”
“Ebony Goddess.”
“I’ve never been with a Black Woman before.”
I am in fact, a black woman, but not the one this white Australian man was referring to when he invaded my online dating inbox. He meant a caricature, with a large backside, full lips, something tribal and aggressive about the way I dominated as the sexual huntress he imagined me to be.
But that version of me would never be possible, because I was too busy being a unicorn...
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