If you’re dating outside your race, you’ve probably had that one defining moment when your family realized that you have a black boyfriend. Lots of times this can happen around holidays, birthdays or some other family gathering. As you might guess, it doesn’t always go according to your plan. There are times when you meet the family and they are really cool people. There are other times when you meet them and they totally flip. Either way it’s probably one of the most discussed thing among women who are expanding their dating options.
So here’s the scenario. You’ve been dating your boyfriend for several months. You’ve mentioned him to your family, but you never divulged that he was of another race. You’ve mentioned how great he is. You’ve talked about him having a great job and how much he loves you. You’ve even told your family that he treats you like a queen. Your family is happy for you and they are ready to meet him. So you set up a weekend trip to visit and introduce them to the new love of your life. And the weekend starts like the following video.
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Ilia Licsher
Over the holidays this winter I had a new man in my life for a very short time. I met Bryce through an online dating site, which is not unusual for me. What was different was that he lives in the same town I do. I stopped dating men who live here, because I intend to move soon and don’t want a romantic entanglement to foul that up. I usually only date men who reside in cities where I would consider moving, so if something becomes more serious, I’m not stuck contemplating a move to East Podunk, Kansas or Inner Rust Belt, Ohio. I’m in my 40’s and would like to be in a relationship, so I date with this kind of long term concern in the back of my mind.
I was sending an email to a guy in another city, when Bryce’s profile popped up on the screen in the “more like him” message from the site. There was something about his face I liked, so I checked out his profile and liked him even more. I winked at him, he wrote back, and after a little more correspondence we set up a date for the following weekend. The day of our date, Bryce sent me a text asking if we could change the location of our date from a sophisticated wine bar to a student bar on campus. OK, I thought, puzzled but not really concerned. Then, an hour before the date, Bryce called to apologize and said he would have to reschedule. His ex-wife had just shown up at his door with their two young kids in tow and had dumped them on him and driven off without an explanation. After a year, she was still having a hard time with their divorce, he informed me.
A few days later, we finally got to meet in person. I was not disappointed. Bryce, a former NBA player, was a hot black man, neatly dressed with a beautiful smile. We had arranged to meet for an hour or two. Instead, four-and-a-half hours flew by while a snowstorm swirled outside and we exchanged details about our lives. I was immediately attracted to his kindness and easy-going manner. Even waiters and waitresses seemed to take to him right away. As we talked, I realized what a catch Bryce was: committed parent; stable partner; and bright post-sports career man. He was self made, having grown up with nothing, and had a good balance of being a nice guy with a little bad boy streak, so as not to be too cloying. We even had a few friends in common. The fact that he had two young children (usually a deal breaker for me) was offset by the fact that he wanted to move to the same part of the country I do, and his ex-wife was on board. Then he explained a bit about his marriage.
If you think shows like Footballers’ Wives are a bunch of made up stories about the Peyton Place antics behind the world of professional sports, guess again. Bryce’s ex-wife, a white woman named Sheila, had slept with what seemed like half the NBA, openly, almost boastfully. She was never happy with the life Bryce provided for her, which as a pro athlete was quite affluent, nor was she happy with motherhood. Bryce had slowly realized over the fifteen years of their marriage that nothing was going to make her happy.
Like me, Bryce had met his spouse during college and married her before he knew what his options might be. She had actually kicked him out of the house during an argument, and he went gladly, happy to finally feel guiltless about separating from her. A year later, she was starting to regret the divorce and was trying to sabotage his attempts to build a new life. Leaving the kids with him at the last minute was a strategy she developed after she hacked into his email and discovered his dating plans. Bryce was stunned and trying to decide what his next step would be. He was afraid that if he took legal action against her, she would retaliate in even worse fashion.
At the end of our date, Bryce walked me to my car, and seemed a little shy about how to end the evening. I found it endearing and even refreshing. He had asked me to go out with him the following night, New Year’s Eve, so I knew he liked me. I wasn’t worried about not getting a good night hug or kiss.
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Over the holidays this winter I had a new man in my life for a very short time. I met Bryce through an online dating site, which is not unusual for me. What was different was that he lives in the same town I do. I stopped dating men who live here, because I intend to move soon and don’t want a romantic entanglement to foul that up. I usually only date men who reside in cities where I would consider moving, so if something becomes more serious, I’m not stuck contemplating a move to East Podunk, Kansas or Inner Rust Belt, Ohio. I’m in my 40’s and would like to be in a relationship, so I date with this kind of long term concern in the back of my mind.
A few days later, we finally got to meet in person. I was not disappointed. Bryce, a former NBA player, was a hot black man, neatly dressed with a beautiful smile. We had arranged to meet for an hour or two. Instead, four-and-a-half hours flew by while a snowstorm swirled outside and we exchanged details about our lives. I was immediately attracted to his kindness and easy-going manner. Even waiters and waitresses seemed to take to him right away. As we talked, I realized what a catch Bryce was: committed parent; stable partner; and bright post-sports career man. He was self made, having grown up with nothing, and had a good balance of being a nice guy with a little bad boy streak, so as not to be too cloying. We even had a few friends in common. The fact that he had two young children (usually a deal breaker for me) was offset by the fact that he wanted to move to the same part of the country I do, and his ex-wife was on board. Then he explained a bit about his marriage.
If you think shows like Footballers’ Wives are a bunch of made up stories about the Peyton Place antics behind the world of professional sports, guess again. Bryce’s ex-wife, a white woman named Sheila, had slept with what seemed like half the NBA, openly, almost boastfully. She was never happy with the life Bryce provided for her, which as a pro athlete was quite affluent, nor was she happy with motherhood. Bryce had slowly realized over the fifteen years of their marriage that nothing was going to make her happy.
Like me, Bryce had met his spouse during college and married her before he knew what his options might be. She had actually kicked him out of the house during an argument, and he went gladly, happy to finally feel guiltless about separating from her. A year later, she was starting to regret the divorce and was trying to sabotage his attempts to build a new life. Leaving the kids with him at the last minute was a strategy she developed after she hacked into his email and discovered his dating plans. Bryce was stunned and trying to decide what his next step would be. He was afraid that if he took legal action against her, she would retaliate in even worse fashion.
At the end of our date, Bryce walked me to my car, and seemed a little shy about how to end the evening. I found it endearing and even refreshing. He had asked me to go out with him the following night, New Year’s Eve, so I knew he liked me. I wasn’t worried about not getting a good night hug or kiss.