The second time our union could have vanished into vapor involved my own personal “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” moment when I visited his parents in a swanky Connecticut town and felt so uncomfortable and out of place that I hid in the guestroom and cried for an hour.
We broke up three times, and got back together three times.
Bolt Crank travels the world as the World's Greatest Mercenary.
He got that moniker due to his skills, as well as his ability to eat anything, and then reproduce it in his right hand.
Like the time my well-meaning cousin told me that no family of my husband’s class would accept him having a black women raised by country Texas folks with an out-of-wedlock daughter.
Ten years my senior, she recalled vividly (as evidence) her long-term relationship with a Jewish man that crashed and burned when his parents outright told her boyfriend that he’d be disowned if the thought of matrimony crossed his mind.
Amidst all the butterflies in my belly, I thought about the chance online encounter that connected us, the family drama, and leaps of faith it took to get me to this place, looking ahead at my future husband, a wonderful, handsome man that I almost didn’t marry because he happened to be white.
I wonder, though, if what we are being mindful about will be open to wide interpretation.
The island of Ibiza has the most beautiful white beaches.
But of course, you do not want to get sun burnt on a secluded strip of white sand.
It’s been a wild ride, but I can’t help but poke my tongue out and thumb my nose at some of the folks at my wedding who thought we wouldn’t last 10 months.
I remember walking down the aisle; to the left of me was my family, mostly brown faces.