My boyfriend and I have been together (on and off) for over seven years. He is originally from India. He grew up on Long Island, NY, and is Muslim (Ismili). I am White/Hispanic. I grew up in Philadelphia, PA. and I am a Christian.

We meet in Philadelphia on the job. He was my supervisor. He was also an architectural student. I had just become a single mother. We started as friends and instantly connected. Ours was a truly healthy, mutually satisfying relationship.

Our differences had no apparent negative effects. We both are quite liberal and we love each other madly. However, his parents were not aware of his relationship with me until after more than two years. His father was absolutely in denial. I should also mention that they had relocated to Texas just before he and I met. This made it easy for our relationship take off because his parents would not have allowed him to see me if they were near. But soon with his sister's help his mother came around and even visited us in Philly. And eventually, so did his dad. I was his sister's "maid of honor" in what is an Indian nuptial ceremony that would equal an engagement (blessed by a priest) which took place in Texas; therefore, I had the opportunity to meet most all of his relatives. Everything seemed great. They seemed to accept me.

His dad soon convinced us to relocate to Texas. We did. That was when the problems emerged. It seems his mother thought I would convert to Islam and in addition dedicate all of my time and energy (12-16 hours a day) to assisting them with their businesses, without regard for my own children. I refused to convert and whole-heartedly refused to put their business before my children.

My boyfriend seemed to be taken over by some uncontrollable force. He did nothing to stop what was happening. I couldn't believe it. We decided to separate within six months of reaching Texas. The separation was devastating for both of us. We continued to see each other, off and on, and have been working on redefining our relationship so as to accommodate his cultural obligations: to not marry outside his race, be his mother's "second husband" and, while maintaining a career as a project engineer, run one of the family stores.

This means not living together, being his almost last priority (behind his job and family) and dealing with the immense contradiction that this is what we really want. This has taken a great toll on our relationship to say the least. It is painful for both of us, but we have not, after four years, called it quits. I guess because we seem to agree that we are meant to be together. The cultural difference has been an unmerciful weapon against our relationship. And our hearts.