This morning, a message lit up my phone: “I didn’t know your daughter was dating a black boy. Did you?”

Yes, I knew. But what you see first—his skin—is the last thing that matters. What I see is the way he carries himself: respectful, humble, and kind. Every “Yes, Ma’am” and “No, Ma’am” comes from a heart that was raised to honor others. 🌟

I see a young man who chooses my daughter daily. Real dates—ballgames, dinners, long conversations—not late-night clubs or reckless parties. I see a boy who listens, who protects, who has never once raised his voice at her, never once left her in tears. 👫💞

On Sundays, while many his age sleep in, he walks her proudly into church, takes his place in the band, and lets her shine beside his family. That’s not just love—it’s leadership, it’s faith, it’s choosing what matters. 🙏🎶

So would I trade him for someone “acceptable” in skin tone but lacking respect, truth, and love? Absolutely not.

Because what matters isn’t color. What matters is the way he makes my daughter feel—seen, honored, and cherished like the queen she is. And for that, I am endlessly grateful. ❤️👑