Love Beyond Borders

Two years into my twenties, after a stretch of being single, I found the kind of romance I had only dreamed of. It was sudden, intense, and different from anything I expected. I fell in love for the first time in New York City, abruptly and fervently. He was Indian-French, born and raised in Brooklyn, New York City, and came from a devout Hindu Brahmin family. I am a Brown woman of Chinese and Indian descent, raised in Singapore, and shaped by Southeast Asian values that differ from his cultural and spiritual background. 

Our relationship, which lasted a year and a half, was built on mutual respect and emotional depth. Yet, despite our connection, we could not escape the reality of societal and familial expectations. To those around him, I was not seen as a partner, I was seen as a threat. I was subjected to derogatory labels, such as being called a ‘terrorist’, dismissed as ‘uneducated’, and degraded as someone hailing from a “backward” region, and those remarks inflicted deep emotional harm, insecurity and trauma to my personal identity and continue to do so.

Eventually, I made the painful decision to walk away. Not because the love had faded, but because I had to protect my dignity and mental wellbeing. We parted ways on a July evening, beneath the glitter of Independence Day fireworks. I wept in his arms at a subway station, overwhelmed not by regret but by the weight of choosing self-preservation over silence of prejudice. That goodbye marked more than heartbreak, it revealed the harsh truth that prejudice can silence even the sincerest love. It made me question why we let borders of faith, caste, and nationality define what is possible between two hearts. 

Sometimes I find myself wondering. 

Why do borders drawn by nation, skin, faith, and social hierarchy continue to dictate who we are allowed to love? Why do we still let fear win over empathy? 

These boundaries, so often used to separate and judge, are not innate. We are not born to hate. We are taught to. And if hatred can be learnt, so too can love, so too can understanding. 

I believe that to love someone from a different world, especially when that world disapproves of your union, is one of the most radical acts a person can commit. It demands honesty, vulnerability, and courage. It demands a kind of emotional endurance most people never prepare for. 

To love beyond borders is to believe that another world is possible, one where humanity takes precedence over heritage, and where connection is not sacrificed at the altar of conformity. I still carry hope. I still believe in love not as a fairytale, but as a force that challenges us to grow, to question, and to rise above the narratives we were given. 

A love that doesn’t just feel good, but dares to be transformative. I loved you, R.