Mexican dating and marriage
I kept getting hurt by guys, a lot of which had to do with my belief in fairytale love. And although I've gone through bullshit in various relationships before, as many have, my hope is to find my own 'media naranja.' My mom knows about most of the men I've dated, but she's only met the guys that have changed my life significantly, which I can count with one hand.It's weird to mention, let alone, specify the physical features of the men I've dated when telling their stories, because the shitty experiences I've gone through weren't because of their color; it was because they weren't right for me.I can't pinpoint physical features or characteristics of black men because that's not only wrong, it's just not the entire case. Have I come across one that's caught my attention? I have strong Mexican men in my life, too—my father and my two brothers—that I hold close, respect, and admire.What I'm attracted to can be found in men of all races: strong arms (sense of protection), a great smile, nice build (healthy), ambitious, passionate, a sense of humor—a touch of sarcasm helps—and a kind heart. My brothers never seemed to have an opinion as to the type of men I dated, and were only concerned with how each guy treated me. My dad has always been a quiet man, and his only insertion in conversations about my dating life: "Are you happy, ?And, really, it roots deeper than my parents, my grandparents, and their parents before them.Racial tension between Mexicans and blacks, especially on the west coast and in some parts of the south, is tied to an ugly history.But it's not only about where and how it started; it may not even be right to think it started from any one place.There's a myriad of factors that are both onset by personal experience and exposure to what people see on television or read in the news.
I've experienced my share of racism and have had racial slurs thrown in my direction. I've overheard conversations about me where people spewed hateful words because they didn't think I knew English.My mom knew her father wouldn't approve either way. She knew if she wanted to be with my dad, she'd have to runaway with him. Despite not knowing she was pregnant with my older brother at the time, she hid in a bunk in the back of my father's van and they crossed the border together.They settled in a largely Mexican neighborhood in San Jose, California.Stories, which laced with racial stereotypes, were told continuously that they became truth.Those "stories" tell of black men leaving their women, and of black men being promiscuous and violent. While problematic, my parents' thinking was the thinking of their time.