The city's Martin Luther King Jr. celebration has wound down, the zenith of which was the MLK March, touted as the largest in the nation. There was enough equality, justice and unity to go around as San Antonians of every color, creed and culture joined hands and hearts in solidarity around a great man's dream.

“I have a dream ..... little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.”

But as it were, maybe not so much as romantic interests.

Even in the 21st century, even as we profess progress and stand behind cultural sensitivity and political correctness, there are some for whom interracial dating is a very touchy subject. As in, they'd prefer not to touch it.

(Disclaimer: I use the term “race” loosely, understanding that it is, for some — including myself — a very political and complex term.)

For folks of all races, it may be the familial factor. Many know they will be (or have been) met with disapproval if they bring home someone “different.” For others, it may be the familiar factor — they've never considered it or haven't found themselves attracted to someone outside their race.

If you watch commercials for eHarmony or Match.com or any of the other  matchmakers, each race seems to have been strategically paired up, as if that's the only true compatibility or the way things are supposed to be.

Yet, today's couples are an increasingly motley pairing whose attractions smugly ignore ethnic, religious, cultural, political, socioeconomic and gender lines.

I, for one, am an equal opportunist, so much so that one of my best guy friends jokingly gave me the moniker “the U.N.,” or United Nations, claiming that I've been hit on or have dated, either casually or seriously, a man of nearly every cultural, ethnic and spiritual persuasion. The running joke about my love life is, “Dude, is he an extraterrestrial? Or is he a she?” Funny.

Surprisingly, my most vocal critics have been black men (others may just be quieter). One day, I was holding hands in the mall with my boyfriend at the time, who happened to be Anglo, and was disdainfully called a “trick” — which I would have laughed off if not for the fact that an ex, who is black, had grudgingly opined just a day earlier that I'd “given up on the brothers.”

Which is so far from the truth. I haven't given up. I've  expanded my horizons.  I have quite a few single friends, of all backgrounds, who have embraced this mindset. With the pickings so slim, they assert, why limit yourself?

Recently, I read a relationship column that advised single folks to try something new for the new year. If you usually go for blondes, she urged, try a brunette. Step outside of your comfort zone.

Race aside, I say a little change can't hurt.