My first ‘official’ cross-cultural dating experience began in high school, albeit movie influenced, unbeknownst to her and I at the time. We were both on the cusp on adulthood when we met, appearing in a Christmas event where we exchanged feelings in greeting.


We became an item, and that became an edifying experience in my growing awareness of our ethnic difference and its impact. Our passion for one another grew. I was in a state of euphoria, influenced by being raised on movie scripts, not actual role-models, believing what we felt was a true romance, albeit my first while getting situated in this new country .


It was during one evening of passionate embraces my bliss was interrupted when she began crying. She then revealed to me that, although we could continue our experience it was not to get serious. Her father’s advice.


I did not fully grasp what was being intimated and, on further consideration during introspection without adequate counsel, I felt blindsided and hurt.


I was being told what I felt had no prospect for a future, a strange insertion into my consciousness. We moved forward, our passion grew into coitus with a little voice whispering inside my head, “This is not serious”, doubting yet blind that she might be unaware of the impact of her father’s advice.


Without discussion, I was unable to gage how she really felt but my mind had already been altered, not to mention all the other distracting input of ethnic Life issues/influences impacting me being a newcomer to this country.


Needless to say, in Time these stifled feelings grew into a restlessness; and, feeling despondent I ended our romance in my confused state.


Family economic issues led the way into a much needed distraction, as I was called to augment my single mother’s income in raising two teenagers and struggling to make ends meet. I substituted romance for employment, which overshadowed and dulled the pain, distancing what once was but emerging now and again to be a sad remembrance.



2b. Setling In c.'65


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