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Black woman on interracial dating

My parents forbade me from seeing my honey again and told me that boys “like him” are only interested in me for sex and that I should “stick to my own kind.” They tried to scare me with stories of violent racism and visions of children addicted to drugs because of their struggle with identity.

I tried to explain that his race didn’t matter to me, the way he treated me did.

I made up excuses to not come home on breaks so I could spend them with Mike’s family, who welcomed me with open, loving arms and had a hard time understanding my choice to hide our relationship.

The response was always the same: “Good for them, but you’re going to bring home someone that looks like us.” My father even hinted that he would cut off my college funds if I went “that way.” I felt trapped.

After college, Mike and I decided to apply for graduate school in Spain.

Mike was the best beau a teen girl could have—tall, handsome, funny and happy to carry my books and hold my hand.

He reminded me a lot of my father, the way he played with me and did ‘man’ things like pulling out my chair and holding all the doors.

At the end, Jesus tells us, " You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

While his parents were thrilled that we would be living abroad together and sharing an adventure, mine were worried about me going so far away and wondered how I would find the man of my dreams in a country where the majority of the people don’t speak English.

Little did they know the man of my dreams was actually a reality and had been in my life for quite some time.

I no longer care what my parents or anyone else thinks about it and I’m tired of lying.

Love is many things, but one thing it shouldn’t be is a secret.

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