One thing I loved almost instantly was never having to having to fear the question "Does my butt look big in this?" I learned, and to be fair I learned it pretty quickly, that there is a right answer to that question, when a latina asks it. Because in the latina world big butts are good. Those that don't have one, envy those that do. Those that do, shake it proud.
That's just a couple of advantages of living with a latina over a white girl. In my case I got lucky too in that she's hot. I mean seriously hot. I'm not. I am totally fine with that, I got the better deal and I'm selfish enough to not give a damn. It feels good to have other guys checking out my wife as we walk past. Mexican guys (and it usually is) can look all they like but shes with me. I ain't going to lie its good for my ego. I had to wait a long time for this and I am going to enjoy it for all its worth.
I never once think when another guy is checking her out that she might leave me for him. I'm comfortable in where we are as a couple, she loves me, I love her, I ain't got any worries. When guys check her out it just makes me smile because they are usually so obvious about it. To me its funny, we are almost always walking together hand in hand, sometimes hand on butt, and still they will look her up and down. I know that there is no way that she would be interested in a guy like that.
I learned early on that she has a jealous streak.
I had never had that before. It was funny, she's way hotter than me if anyone should be possessive it should be me. For like a week it was flattering. After about 8 days it was starting to get exhausting. The crazy thing is she has nothing to jealous about, I am all over her. I never look at other women, I don't need to, she does the looking for me. Meantime I'll be blissfully unaware. I'll be enjoying spending some time together in a park, listening to the birds in the trees, thinking everything but the sharp Utah grass stabbing my butt is wonderful. Then I will sense that the wife is getting short with something I have said and I realise that el diablo has started the process of taking over my wife.
I always imagined the devil to be a big guy. I didn't see him coming in the form of a 5ft 3 inch latina woman. My mistake. I now know for sure that when Ricky Martin sings she looks like a flower but she stings like a bee that I ain't alone. Latinas are jealous creatures, possessive and maybe slightly crazy when el diablo takes root.
I have tried my damnedest to understand the jealous thing. I thought at first maybe it was especially powerful at a certain time in the month so I tried timing it
Most important rule to remember when in love with a latina, she is number one, don't look away! She has told me that the signs were there from the beginning, things I have written in this blog before I even knew her have bit me in the ass since, but love is blind I didn't see it coming.
I love latinos, if it wasn't for latinos I probably would not have anyone to speak to in this country. Gringos look at me like I am speaking another language when I open my mouth. Latinos know I am speaking another language but they don't give up trying to understand me. And then there is the good food.
However Latinos are also blunt. Scots are blunt too, so that's all good. Chileans though take bluntness to a whole new level. Chileans, always, have an opinion. In the company of Chileans you will get crap for being fat, or crap for being skinny, and there is no in between. You are damned either way. Someone makes an assessment and everyone joins in with the jibes. Sitting at a table with Chileans is like being the ball of a pin ball machine, until it is some other poor sods turn. Some of the comments that go flying around the table can be down right mean, but its love.
When I am out with my adopted family you will mostly find me parked at my wife's butt. It's like a family joke that I am her shadow. I admit it I pretty much am. I'm crazy about the girl. But as much as I love her, it might not be the only reason for my behaviour.
Another reason might be I observed early on in our walks around the latin mall that if you say the wrong thing, or someone says the wrong for you on your behalf you are liable to get hit. Not necessarily by the person who is most the offended but more likely by the person situated nearest to you at the time. With this observation I probably unconsciously decided that it was best that if I was going to get hit I may as well be hit by someone who I could at least have a conversation with. 11 and half months later and I am still her shadow. That might say something about how much I love her or how much my Spanish sucks. Or both. I'm trying to figure it out myself.