Love is a beautiful thing. To be with your chosen person without reservation is a gift. This was not always possible. Less than 60 years ago, interracial marriage was more than frowned upon by some; it was illegal in parts of the U.S.
In 1958, Mildred and Richard Loving, an interracial couple living in Virginia, were arrested for being married. The Lovings won their landmark case, Loving v. Virginia, on June 12, 1967, abolishing all state laws against interracial marriage in the U.S. Now, every year on that date, the case is honored through .
To commemorate this date, we asked Up First newsletter readers to tell us about their experiences of being in an interracial relationship. People shared the reasons they fell in love, the hardships they have faced, and what Loving Day means to them. Here are some of their stories.
Responses have been edited for length and clarity.
Doubled her universe
When Nina Solis, 37, and her husband Daniel started dating in high school in the early 2000s, they knew they were different from each other. But those contrasts brought interest and excitement into their lives. They dated until Daniel went to college and later found their way back to each other, eventually marrying in October 2024. Nina says experiencing his food, language, and culture acted as a portal into another world.
After dating Daniel and learning of his childhood in El Salvador, she chose to go on a high school house building trip in Nicaragua and then went the University of Miami to continue her education with a minor in Spanish.
"This sent my life on a career trajectory that often involved Latin America," Nina said. "When Daniel and I reconnected as adults, I had experienced so much of Mexico, Central and South America in the time since we lost touch, all because of his culture's influence."
"Fluent in empathy"
Isaiah Schauer says that when he fell for his wife, he didn't fall for someone who was Black 鈥� he fell for someone radiant. The love they built was never about ignoring their differences, but instead about cherishing depth.
Because they live in a culturally rich area, most people don't care about their interracial relationship, Schauer says. But they are no stranger to friction. He says some older individuals have offered unsolicited commentary, side-eyes on the bus, and double-takes at restaurants. However, he says nothing prepared them for the comments they received when becoming parents to their son. Many questioned if he really was the father.
"Once, I responded that I was on special assignment from the Galactic Senate to guard the son of an African monarch, just to see if their face would implode," Schauer said. "Humor helped, but those moments stung."
Throughout their relationship, Schauer says he learned love is never colorblind. "I've learned how deeply race still shapes perception," he said. "I've learned to listen more, interrupt less, and recognize when silence can be complicit. I've learned to become fluent in empathy and to be a better ally."
Adversity isn't always obvious
When Alia Campbell met her now-husband, Donovan, she knew immediately that he was her person. Throughout their relationship, she has learned that many people will act as if they accept them because Donovan doesn't act in the stereotypical way some people expect a Black person to act.
Alia says some people have made it clear to her that if her husband were to "have longer dreads or more tattoos or talk a certain way or wear clothes a certain way," he wouldn't be the "type of Black [person] they're comfortable with." She says she learned that other people in interracial relationships don't talk about the truth or the hardness of what racism and prejudice look like in modern-day form.
Adversity can look different for every couple. For Alia and her husband, it comes in the form of the looks Donovan receives when going shopping in downtown Charleston and the uncomfortable comments they receive about mixed children. Alia recalls being told that if they had a child, it would have "good hair" and a "good nose."
Breaking stereotypes
Ayla Ludwig says that when she married Jungsoo Lee, she had a lot to learn about the cultural expectations of being married to a Korean man. Korean men, especially firstborn sons like Lee, face pressure to be successful in their careers and provide for their families. Women are expected to cook and do childcare.
While living in Seoul, South Korea, Ludwig says they got a first-hand look at how people think of interracial marriage, especially with white women. "Interracial relationships are largely seen as unserious, shallow, and 'exotic.' They are seen as an opportunity to have fun before settling down for real with someone who is Korean," she said.
In the face of that, the couple makes it a point to be confident in their relationship and break the stereotype that they can't be a serious couple.
Love during traumatic times
When Kathleen To and her husband were 16 years old, they fell in love. They met at a refugee camp where she and her father volunteered to teach English. They supported the end of the Vietnam War and witnessed the arrival of the Lao, Cambodian and Vietnamese refugees who fled their homes. She says that at the time, there was much racism exhibited from the media, locals and even friends and family. To recalls seeing the pain and fear on the refugees' faces as they tried to locate their missing families and process the disaster they experienced. "Even 50 years later, I remember how my heart went out to the refugees as a group, before it connected with my now husband as he sat in my class and first smiled at me," she said.
For To, her relationship with her husband showed her what loyalty means. When they experienced negativity from people who didn't accept them, she knew they were in it for life.
"I could count on him and he could count on me," To said. "Maybe even the resistance we got only made our relationship stronger, because we're both stubborn, and would never let anyone be able to say 'I told you so!' to our faces."
Just like any other couple
Craig Wiesner and his husband, Derrick Kikuchi, met in 1988 and took their relationship slowly, as they had both recently been through rough breakups. The couple was warmly embraced by First Presbyterian Church Palo Alto. The pastors informed them that if they ever wanted to get married, they would perform the service. In 1990, the couple took them up on the offer and were the first same-gender couple to be married in that church.
Around a year later, Weisner and his husband were asked to participate in a panel discussion at the church about mixed-race couples. He says the request let them "know that people in the church thought of us as they would any other married couple."
For the last 13 years, the couple has been invited to speak at Santa Clara University in a class about sexual ethics, where they share their life stories. As part of the presentation, they do a skit based on the oral arguments of the Lovings' case and talk about how those same arguments were used against same-sex marriage.
"We share our personal stories, take questions, and then end with a quote from Mildred Loving when she advocated for marriage equality shortly before her death," he noted.
Significant tattoos
Valin Jordan, who is a Black woman, says she and her husband faced a number of challenges when it came to his white family. Jordan says the micro and macro aggressions they experienced from his family were, and continue to be, exhausting. This resulted in a lot of hard conversations and tears.
From racist gifts to racist statements, she says they experienced a lot of strife. But that did not stop the love they have for each other. They dedicated their entire wedding, which happened in August 2022, to the Loving v. Virginia decision. They intended to take pictures on the Supreme Court steps to honor the Lovings, but that location was a bit hectic because it was the same year Roe v. Wade was overturned. They never got their picture. Instead, they opted to get 1967 tattoos on the inside of their ring fingers because that Supreme Court decision means that much to them as a couple and the family they have created.
Conquering fear
Stacey Manley met his wife Anna nearly 20 years ago. Around that time, he didn't think he would ever marry a white woman, because he didn't want to be a "sell-out." However, he knew almost immediately that he wanted to marry Anna and start a life with her. He remembers calling his best friend for advice, who was adamant that "when you find love, you should embrace it, no matter what color it comes in."
They married on June 12, 2009, in San Francisco City Hall as a homage to the Lovings, celebrating the legality of interracial marriage. "Ironically enough, our wedding officiant's first name was Virginia," Stacey recalls.
A Loving Day anniversary
Lynnea Hutton says that when she met David, she was raising a son from her first marriage. Going into their relationship, David had to learn the issues Lynnea faced raising a Black boy in the U.S. If he had minimized what it takes to raise her son or didn't understand, Lynnea says they wouldn't be together today.
After 10 years of dating, the couple got married on Loving Day in 2020 and will celebrate their five-year wedding anniversary this month. Originally, they had planned to go to Aruba and come back married, but because of the COVID pandemic, they pivoted to a front porch wedding with 200 family and friends watching from around the world on Zoom.
"We're going to Aruba on our 5-year anniversary and are renewing our vows on Loving Day," Hutton said. "We intentionally picked Loving Day and have a framed calligraphy of the Loving v. Virginia order on our wall as a reminder that our union would have been considered illegal not that long ago."
This story was edited by .
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