What followed was a “first” to remember, as we took our time kissing and exploring each other’s bodies for the first time.
But he was persistent, followed up by Skyping me that evening re-extending his invitation. A few days later, he was headed to a nearby island and invited me to come along to explore.
I was looking to get away from the city, so I accepted, of course, booking my own hotel room, and arriving days late on my own schedule.
Prior to that, I had shared my body with White Brasilians and Argentineans. This made me feel like my growth had come full circle, as I struggled growing up in a predominately White Jersey suburb to feel like interracial dating was an option for a young Black woman.
While young Black men certainly enjoyed relationships with young White women in my town, Black girls rarely were seen exploring the same types of relationships. But the opportunities weren’t equal or treated the same.
Eventually, our vacation ended and he headed to the south of Brasil to start his new job. It had been almost six months since we had first met, and I certainly had changed.
I returned to the city to continue living my life, and we kept in touch through semi-frequent Skype chats about our lives as Americans in Brasil. I had opened a different chapter in my dating life, one that included more interracial dating than relationships with Black men in Brasil.
His White European friends dared him to go and talk to that Black Brasilian girl sitting on the beach, who was really a Black American girl in disguise.
Just two kids from Jersey traveling abroad that happened to bump into each other by stereotypical mistake.
My wife recently cheated on me with a co-worker who is African American.