Incongruous dating preferences (I prefer black men but hate when they prefer me)

I just got off of a really cool and interesting post here about dating preferences, and I do find the topic genuinely interesting. Please do not feel compelled or urged to respond if you do not. This topic may not interest you.

I am the child of a black man and a white woman. My mom turned out to be lesbian and they divorced when I was young. In general, we know about 84% of the types of marriages of my parents end in divorce. I can look up a source for that if you want, but feel free to look it up on your own as well.

I am a non-binary amab who is an androphile. I find men attractive and I was born male but identify outside of the gender binary. I have male anatomy.

Growing up, I had zero interest in black men. They all seemed off-putting to me besides a few, namely due to behavior and not really to looks. I went through the whole: we look too much like family thing, and that carried me through my late teens and early twenties. I was fully attracted to men who looked like me! The Logics and Wentworth Millers and Jason Kidd's of the world. The orange, bright, beige, predominantly white-mixed biracials, just like myself. This led me to a lot of Latin men since many of them look like that due to their own racial mix. (I am adamant that Latin American is not a race. It's just a location. A really...really...big one that spans two, three, or one continent depending on who you ask.)

I also saw dating white men as aspirational: a prize in a game. I was too honest to pursue one, found a few attractive but felt they were untouchable, and I dated some (about four to five through my late teens and early twenties). Then something upended in me. My desire for black kicked in whole-heartedly. I was plunged into an emotional experience I never thought I would have: I kept falling deeply, romantically, and sexually into love with black men over and over again. I couldn't get away from them. There was magnetism. I couldn't explain how powerful it felt and how, after my hair grew out and turned curly, how little white I felt. I moved from Wentworth to Lamello damn near...I was in shock because prior to this, black people never even noticed me, would speak to me in poor, broken Spanish, or would assume I was just Anglo-American white.

Now, with 3c hair, I was something ethnic. And men, specifically black, started to like me. This was all fun and good and I deeply enjoyed communing in that way with someone black. The disrupt in that came when I started to feel more like an object. Can anybody speak to that discord? Men would compliment my skin, hair, and the fact I was practically white. These comments twisted me up in my mind. I feel like I was pulled into a world that was warped and could not let go. Now, at 30, I am much more equipped but the issue is...I am kind of stuck. I think I can date whoever I want but certain...things...I will only want to do with a man that is black. I find this incongruity to be difficult to accept. I want a black man. I want him to want me back but not because of that. Does that make sense?