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Most days I don’t even think about it. I just love him so much, am so in love with him, and still have a crush on him (which is a very long crush). The differences in the color of our skin, and the varied paths taken (or forced upon) by our ancestors…well, those things don’t matter to me on a daily basis. When he comes home from working a long day to provide for our large family, I don’t think about the black man walking in our door – and when I stand in the kitchen cooking dinner for our large family, he doesn’t think about the white woman preparing his food. I only see my husband, and he only sees his wife. Sure, we are aware that society sees us differently than we see each other…but we don’t care about the prejudged, unintelligent, or just plain curious thoughts and looks that we may receive here and there. In fact, we probably don’t notice half of it and generally laugh off the rest. That may seem like an unusual existence to those living outside of interracial relationships, something unfamiliar to those that have never been on the receiving end of a rude comment or the unintentional ignorance of the curious person who wants to touch our babies’ hair. Well, compared to the journeys of similar couples that came before us, we can hardly complain about these experiences.
I laid in bed last night, beautiful husband asleep next to me, precious fourth child (who thinks we are in his bed) sound asleep between us, and I imagined the sheer terror we would experience if a team of law enforcement officers broke down our door and rushed into our bedroom, guns drawn and locked on us, yelling and screaming us out of our slumber. The confusion and helplessness we would endure as they held us down, handcuffed us, and hauled us toward the police station under the cover of night’s darkness – unfathomable. The heartbreak we would feel as our home and extended family became off limits to us because we were exiled to a strange, new place, in exchange for no jail time, for the incredibly wicked offense of … marrying the one that we love, regardless of the differences of the skin we’re in.
Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Loving, for enduring the nightmare so that we wouldn’t have to! Interracial couples worldwide have you, and other brave lovers like Bill and Patsy Harter, to thank for our right to live together without the fear of being violated in our own homes. We can exist, despite the occasional disapproval of random people who don’t matter to us anyway, without fear of arrest, banishment, humiliation, and pain inflicted on us by the very same government agencies we fund with our own taxes!
Although I was still four years from even becoming – June 12, 1967 meant that I would grow up in a world where I would be free to love the man God created for me. He created us with different skin, different hair, different features, and different histories, however, He also created us with the same heart, the same love, and for the same purpose – each other.
Happy Loving Day, Everyone 🙂