I’ve been writing (mostly mediocre) articles on these here Internets pretty much every day for the past six years.
The relationships weren’t great mostly because my dating history is full of bad experiences.
I felt a certain pride in hanging out with people who were Dominican, Indonesian, Laos, Filipino, Hispanic, etc. My parents taught me good morals, like not judging others by their appearance, though I did have to keep my jaw clenched when I visited relatives.
They would ask me about the “colored kids” at my job as a camp counselor and spoke the word “bi-racial” in hushed tones, as if it were something to be ashamed of.
"When I met him last year I had been through the wringer in many ways with men and I couldn't take it anymore.
But, you know, you keep that stuff hidden." "And as much as some women say that they are independent, I was like, no, I think I need a hero about now. And at that point, at 36, with all the players around in New York, I had never thought it would happen for me, but it did.