Yes, this was inspired by my most recent question and updates. No, the situation didn't upset me, it intrigued and inspired me. This isn't like my normal posts, it's more of a story. Read if you'd like, if not, stay tuned for my typical shit-bashing.
So, I get questions about being in an interracial relationship on occasion, not so much anymore as I’ve been with my fiancé for about three years now. It was more common in the beginning, and even to this day, I still get the odd question about it and always feel a little confused when people express shock, concern, and even disdain towards my relationship.
When I met my fiancé, I obviously realized he was Asian. I was, after all, in an Asian grocery store, surrounded by other Asians. He, of course, could see I was a redheaded white girl. When we spoke to each other, neither of us felt compelled to point this out. It was obvious enough as it was, and it clearly didn’t stop our attraction to one another. And so, we went on dates. We hung out. We watched movies, ate food, played cards and had beers. We talked, laughed, even strained and fought. Never did it occur to either of us that any of this was racially driven, as we always just looked at each other as … people.
The first time I really ever found myself questioned about it is when my mother ever-so-eloquently asked me whether or not his penis was small. We were together by this point, had sexual intercourse as well, and when the question was posed I was confused.
Why does it matter? She isn't the one having sex with him, I am, so why would it concern her if his penis was small? I thought to myself.
Being the ass I am, I asked her why, and if she was asking because she planned on sucking it. She didn’t like my response of course, but I calmly explained that no, his penis wasn’t small, and even if it was, unless I voiced an issue with it, there was no feasible reason for her to be concerned. I chocked this all up to my mother being in a sexless marriage; bored, looking for gossip or flaws in the sex lives of others to comfort her own dusty vagina.
The next slew of questions came from friends. People asked if he treated me differently for being a woman. I was, again, confused. Obviously, he treated me different than men in his life, but isn’t that everyone? I realized quickly they were asking if he had sexist views, confusing North and South Korea as being the same. I explained it was a non-issue, he wasn’t sexist and again, unless I voiced concern, they didn’t need to be.
Then there came the random cultural questions. How different is it being together? Does he make you eat weird food? Do you only eat with chopsticks? Do you have to bow your head to him? Silly stuff. At this point, me and him never really questioned each other’s culture, even though he spent most of his life in the homeland and I in my own. I didn’t think it was necessary, it would likely come up on its own when it was relevant. And it did. In casual conversation, in restaurant suggestions, in the little cuss words he’d say under his breath in his native tongue. Eventually, the conversation came when one of his relatives made an outlandish remark.
He accused me, as a white woman, of being out for my fiance’s money. He was shocked, to say the least, because he didn’t really have much money. He was stable, in school but I was working full time and was done school, making significantly more each pay than him. However, his FAMILY had money back in their home country, and he in line to inherit a deal of it many years from now. I never knew this until this moment, and my fiancé adamantly defended me and explained this.
This family member was very embarrassed and apologized of course. More questions about me came in, asking my heritage, if I was any good with cooking or cleaning, if I had many partners before, etc. My fiancé and I finally decided to have the “culture talk.”
It was pretty simple. We explained our views, our upbringings, and expectations – but we had already done this, it was more for good measure. We both realized the only issue we had culturally was I couldn’t speak his native tongue, but I could work on it. Otherwise, we lived as a totally normal couple who had no concerns over our differing cultures, it genuinely seemed it was EVERYONE ELSE who had concerns and questions.
We knew we looked different, but this wasn’t an issue since the attraction was there either way. It was just never really a big deal.
We were harassed or hated on occasionally, primarily with were in passing or online, with such colourful insults like: “Asian men don’t even have dicks, they have big clits,” or: “You’re defiling your ancestors genetics.” My personal favourite was: “I hope you realize he/she just sees you as a fetish.”
Of course, we always got flack from racial purists too, but this was also only online, and we hardly paid attention to it as we didn’t want kids. We did, however, discuss what we would do if at one point we changed our minds about children.
You know what we would do? Have one. The same as everyone else. Yes, the child would be mixed. No, we were not concerned about that. There’s no reason for anyone else to be concerned about it. If you want racial purity, then go ahead, have babies with your own race. We don’t have to.
We would always just laugh. It didn’t hurt us, it clearly hurt others more. They were the ones seething with hatred and anger, we were the happy ones who loved one another, who had amazing sex, who laughed and had fun together. It didn’t make a difference that he was Asian, he had black hair, and mono-lidded eyes. It didn’t matter that I was a pasty redhead with big eyes, who was physically different than the women he was used to. We were, and are still happy, which is all that has ever mattered to either of us.
Us being interracial has never been a big deal, it isn’t even a term we use outside of explaining things to people based on context. We were always just boyfriend/girlfriend, and fiancé. So, for those wondering what being in an interracial relationship is like, it is only as different as you experience it, really. For us, all we ever saw was love. If that bothers anyone...
~ Love Jane.
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