Amanda Weller,
Atlanta, GA.
I’m an army brat, a former soldier, and an army wife. Of course I notice differences in skin color and culture (I’m not blind, or stupid); they simply take a back seat to the most important color in my life, a shared color: green. When I met my husband at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA almost ten years ago, the only cultural differences that I was concerned with were: he wore the same uniform I did, and he was willing to put up with the craziness of army life.
We fell in love, got engaged, met each other’s families, and got married. His family was great, so was mine, we were happy. Then we moved back to Georgia. Now I’m counting the days until his next assignment. The nearness of our families does not make up for the constant string of accusations and hostility from the vast majority of women in his old neighborhood.
I’m white, I like stereotypically “white” activities like listening to country music, horseback riding and tennis playing- and guess what? I didn’t “steal” anything from your community When I married Lammar. I fell in love with a smart, funny, brave, and loving man, and he fell in love right back. I don’t blame you for any jealousy over his person, he’s amazing, and worthy of your desire, but would you be so up-in-arms over our marriage if he was the exact same person, but had white or brown or tan skin instead?
