A Boy Worth Fighting For

Growing up in a narrow-minded family has led to plenty of disagreements —  from the way I talk, to the clothes I wear, and especially when it boils down to relationships. In my family, “The Talk” does not hold the same meaning as it would anywhere else. There weren’t any birds or bees discussed in my household — only specific races. According to my family, it’s okay if the man is White or East Asian. Black is an absolute taboo, Indians aren’t good enough, and Hispanics are not husband material. Of course my tiny brain at the time (and the fully functioning one I have now) didn’t believe in any of this nonsense! I knew they wanted me to be happy, but happy to their standards- ie, Asian, Caucasian, or you’re out. 

Now, before I dive into the juicy family drama, allow me to give a brief introduction on who my current partner is and how we met. Devon’s background is Persian/Portuguese American and we’ve known each other since senior year of high school through mutual friends. Since we went to different schools, nothing had happened between us other than online communication in the form of poorly executed memes. We hung around a bit freshman year in college but it wasn’t until sophomore year when we actually grew on each other. I was dealing with a massive case of ‘burnout’ in my academic career, along with personal problems at home which created a toll on my mental health. Devon wasn’t all too familiar in dealing with these types of hardships, but he managed to show his love and support through a variety of ways: showing up to my workplace just to hang out, picking and giving me his family’s roses from their garden, and always offering me McDonalds after a long day. 

When we became official, I struggled internally on how my parents would react, though I kept my thoughts on the more positive note considering that it had been several years since “The Talk” and they had been pretty open with my diverse group of friends. Later that week, I brought Devon over for a movie and dinner night at my house, which I typically share with my brother — my parents work and live in a different state. Shortly after the date had ended, the “fun” part began. Even though my parents don’t live with me, they have their ways of maintaining surveillance. There are cameras laid out around the house, two outside and one inside. As soon as Devon ventured off into his humble abode, my parents video-called me and said, “How dare you bring that Muslim boy over?!” (Funny thing is — he’s not even Muslim!)

My parents were quite colorful with their speech and their ultimatums. It usually consisted us either breaking up immediately or throwing me out of the house. Every time I had gone out, whether if it was for school or work, they would automatically assume I was with him (they weren’t wrong, though). It didn’t matter whether if I was actually occupied on something else, it was the mere fact that I hadn’t broken off ties with Devon and so everything I did came back to him. I would remember nights where I would stay up talking with him about our struggles — whether or not if I should introduce him to my extended family or just keep him in the shadows where he would be safe. However, after nearly a year, I am happy to report we are still together and I still live under the same roof that I’ve grown up in! So, what happened?

Aside from the harsh verbal abuse and lack of support from older family members, the one day that they changed their views was when Devon made ramen noodles for my brother. He struggled a bit with the broth and spice ratio of the dish but made it decent enough that my brother ended up saying that he liked him and since then, would ask if my boyfriend was coming over. This caused my parents to drop their racist agenda and begin calling him their “son”.

I know, I know — it’s a wild jump from “dirty Muslim boy” to “Welcome to the family, son”. (I guess I should leave my thanks to Maruchan Ramen Company and have them sponsor me in some way?)

By accepting Devon, my parents also became more culturally aware of his Portuguese and Persian background. Every now and then, my father will take him out to try Chinese cuisine and, in return, he will always ask Devon to “take me to your people’s food” before offering to buy him the newest Samsung phone (which he politely declines every time). My mom has even made food specifically for him as well! So much for me being the favorite child in the family!

         Luckily, our story ended on a more accepting tone but there are many other interracial couples out there that face even harsher backlashes than us. It’s extremely important for the younger generation to remain open-minded about these issues, stand up for what makes them happy, and show their families what different kinds of love can look like.