Black women, please stop telling me you're going to do what I did and get a white man. This statement irks the hell out of me, and it is insulting. The words strike me pretty hard as if I couldn't possibly be this happy if I was married to a black man and I had to give up black men to achieve love, happiness, and financial stability. Whenever someone says an asinine statement like "get me a white man" they diminish the love in our relationship and outright suggesting that having a good man is directly related to his lack of skin pigmentation.
I fell in love with Donald for everything but his race. The race wasn't a determining factor. When I met this complete stranger, we clicked, vibed, and had several things in common. So much in common, it is creepy. We both ended long relationships, we have MBA's and work in project management field, we share a passion for Autism, we both had Jack Russells, we love the same type of music, similar food, our religious preference match, political views are similar, we have three kids and our first born's name is Alex, we don't care for shopping, love traveling, enjoy sex, and most importantly we laugh at our jokes. And I didn't mention how we randomly met on a shuttle (click here to read the story), with the same flight, and moved to Houston the same week!
Beyond all of the eery coincidence, we respect each other and knew we wanted to explore the world together. We make a good team, he is yin and I am yang. With that much in common, you don't have a choice but to give it a go. Our love has everything to do with us being perfect for each other. We are different, but one in the same and we make sense.
I love Donald's spirit, ideology, non judgemental-risk-accessing, romantic, justice seeking, music-loving, great father, best friend, geek squad, superhero Scottish self. He loves my laughter, love for life, naivety, caring, beautiful (I'm so modest), humorous, music-loving, justice seeking, great mother, best friend, and non geek squad self. I love him because who he is and not for his skin color and vice versa.
So, the next time you meet someone who is in an interracial relationship, and your love life isn't so hot, don't minimize their love and happiness to being founded on race - and please believe that a man's color has nothing to do with how he loves.
As I entered the airport's departure area, a big gust of wind slapped me across my face. I stood there frozen and speechless. I couldn't believe hours earlier I was wearing daisy dukes in Houston's tropical sun on my patio and now I could hardly stand outside fully dressed, insulated in a thick coat.
I was anxious and cold; it was my first time using a taxi, and I had never been to Chicago. The taxi driver arrived and noticed my dismay with the weather. As I got in and sat down I muttered, "Shit, It's freezing!" The taxi driver laughed it off and told me 37 degrees in the middle of December is considered a heat wave for this time of year. We engaged in small talk as he made the 30-minute drive to my hotel.
The week's weather forecast that made me appreciate Texas a little more.
When I arrived at the hotel, I wasn't impressed. Not sure if it was due to the hours of traveling or the horrible oceanic decor. I'm certain the designer had a futuristic blue abstract design in mind, but this was ridiculous.
I checked in with the front desk and collected the room key. As I was walking down the hall, I felt my phone vibrate. It was Donald, the guy I met on the shuttle bus with the gorgeous eyes and the great accent. I rolled my eyes as I looked at his text.
"How are you?"
I was feeling salty about the way we had departed each other at the airport. Hours earlier, I waited patiently for my new friend to exit so we could talk some more. However, he dismissed me by immediately B lining to greet a man in a black suit as I stood there waving like a dork trying to get his attention.
"Forget him," is what I thought as I lowered my hand and head. I ignored Donald's text for an hour. It was my payback to the airport departure and besides I planned to visit with an out of state coworker staying in the same hotel. We chatted about our new roles with the company and what we expected to happen for us in the future. I probably opened up to her too much since I was the only one drinking wine due to her being in AA. I told her about my life, meeting Donald, and how he ditched me at the airport for the man in black while she told me about her life growing up hitchhiking across the US.
I replied to Donald's text as I left the room. He quickly responded and told me he wasn't going to be in Chicago long and would return to Houston in two days. We text each other several times during our short Chicago trip and decided to meet for a date when I return to Houston.
When I arrived in Houston, I asked my mother if she could stay an extra night so I could have a date with the stranger I met at the airport. Mom always took a week of holiday when I traveled, and I knew that I didn't want to miss my free sitter opportunity. She was skeptical at first with a ton of questions. I explained to her that Donald would only be in town for a couple days because he previously made plans to return to Scotland for Christmas and New Year. Thankfully, she agreed to stay another night so I could have a date with Donald.
Enjoying the evening with mom and the kids after returning from Chicago.
Almost two years ago I came to Houston looking for better opportunities. I figured to move up in the world in East Texas someone had to die or retire. I never left home before, and people told me not to. They said don't take your babies to the city; it's horrible. I didn't care what people said; it was my life and my decision. I got an apartment on a Monday with no job. On Tuesday, I was hired at a company that allowed me to work from home. One of the company's perks includes traveling within the States. The first trip was to Chicago.
My mom came to town and watched my kids (I thank God for her). I got in my car with my big perfect hair, red lips, and business attire and headed to the airport in Houston for the first time. Lost, I didn't know what to do or where to park until I saw a sign that said Park 'N Fly. It seemed legit. I drove to the booth and asked the worker what I need to do and how far did I have to walk to get to the airport. The worker told me 4 miles. I looked at the time, I was an hour early and thought to myself if it was possible to walk that far in an hour. The worker apparently noticed I was thinking hard and told me a shuttle bus would take me there. Delighted, I felt happy and dumb at the same time.
I looked for a parking spot and finally found one in the endless sea of cars. A shuttle bus pulled up as I was getting my items out the car. I hurried and gathered my things and got on the bus. I noticed a man sitting in the back row with his legs crossed scrolling through his phone. He looked up at me, and I smiled. I never saw eyes so blue. They reminded me of a perfect view of a sky on a cloudless day. Being who I am, I had to hear him speak. I started a conversation, and I heard an Irish accent. It was my lucky day! I've always wanted to meet someone from Ireland. We were the only people on the shuttle. Our first time using Park 'N Fly, I was unusually early while he was unusually late. I asked him for help getting to my flight, and it just so happened, he had the same flight sitting two rows behind me. We continued small talk, and I learned he is Scottish, not Irish. That didn't bother me since I thought about him in a kilt. Anyhow, I gave him my last business card and told him it was great meeting him. We boarded the flight, and I received a text a couple of minutes later that said, "Hi, this is Donald." - December 8, 2014