Adultery was out of the question and so was sainthood. Oddly, four months after our split, my wife married another Somali man whom she had met online. I like to meet people the old-fashioned way: in person or by referral. It is ironic that, as a black woman, I have such a negative perception of my own race.
Do you know any woman in her thirties who is interested in meeting an honest, hardworking, motivated, family-oriented Somali man? On the surface, I appear well educated, well traveled, and well read.
Women in my town flaunted the color of their husbands. Initially, I was flattered that a white man had fallen in love with me and wanted to marry me.
The lighter husbands were always getting a nod of approval, and the darker ones received nothing but contempt. Secretly, I always fantasized about having children from a mixed marriage, imagining they would possess exotic and dazzling beauty.
“Before, I used to get dumped a lot,” he lamented, “but now, I simply get deleted.” I share that sentiment: I have been deleted a lot. For the first few months, we exchanged emails and pictures. She was a lot bigger and shorter than her pictures revealed.