That evening, I had trouble sleeping. The memories of my divorce from Raúl came back to haunt me. Raúl, the tall, handsome green-eyed Chicano who had been my first love. We had started dating during my senior year in high school. One night after a football game, I was walking home with my girlfriends when Raúl pulled up in his blue ‘64 Falcon and asked me if I wanted to go cruise around town with him. I was as taken by surprise as my girlfriends, who all had crushes on him.
I went out with Raúl that night, and from then on we were inseparable. All through high school, I had had my share of crushes on different guys, but I had never fallen hopelessly in love with anyone like I did with Raúl. We spent every possible minute of our senior year together. Every morning, Raúl would pick me up a few blocks from my house and we would ride to school together. I was the envy of all my girlfriends. At lunchtime, we would meet in the parking 1t and sit in Raúl’s car listening to the radio and making out. Then after school, we would meet again and cruise around town for a while before Raúl drove me home. I remember how every evening I would wait impatiently for the phone to ring so that I could talk with him again.
My parents never knew I was dating Raúl. I wanted so badly to tell them about him, but I knew it was wishful thinking since they had made it clear that I couldn’t date until I turned eighteen. My only resort was to sneak around and lie to my parents so that I could be with him. Instead of going to a game or to a friend’s house, as I had told them, I’d wait for Raúl to pick me up, and we would drive out to the country roads and park.
At first, the only thing Raúl and I did when we were together was make out. But then Raúl became more insistent. One night, we let our passion overcome us. I remember feeling guilty and embarrassed afterward because I knew it was wrong, but Raúl’s promises to marry me made it seem all right. And I loved Raúl so much that I didn’t want to lose him.
Finally, the worst thing possible happened. My mother caught me sneaking out the window to meet Raúl. When I told her that Raúl and I were in love and planning to get married, she slapped me and threatened to hit me with the belt if I ever went out with him again. She forbade me to see Raúl, telling me that if my father found out he would kill me. I was furious. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Here I was seventeen years old and not even allowed to go out on dates.
I decided that night that I wouldn’t let anything keep me apart from Raúl. I formed a plan with Raúl’s help and then I waited patiently to carry it out. When graduation day arrived, I packed some clothes in a small bag and smuggled them out of the house. After my graduation party, I waited until my parents were asleep and then I quietly fled from the house with Raúl, who was waiting for me at the corner.
We stayed at Raúl’s brother’s house that night, and after a few days my parents came looking for me. But I refused to go back home, insisting that Raúl and I belonged together. A few weeks later, my parents finally relented. Raúl and I were married the following month in a small church ceremony.
At first, it was fun playing house while Raúl worked construction and I stayed home cooking and cleaning the small apartment. On weekends, Raúl and I had wild parties with our friends and stayed up as late as we wanted. We were ecstatic with our new independence. But after the first year had passed, I began to notice that Raúl and I didn’t really know each other. Unlike Raúl, who was satisfied with getting a pay check and partying every weekend, I started to feel restless and confined in the small apartment. I needed more things to occupy my time, but when I told Raúl, he would ignore me. We started disagreeing about everything, and when I enrolled in an evening class at a nearby university, Raúl was furious. He started to spend more time drinking with his buddies after work, leaving me alone at home.
Our relationship continued like this for several more years until I couldn’t take it anymore. Raúl’s drinking had worsened and we had become complete strangers to one another. When I finally made up my mind to leave him, my parents became angry, even though they had disapproved of our marriage from the start. My mother yelled at me, “Sandra, are you out of your mind? God will curse you if you get a divorce.”
My mother never quite forgave me for leaving Raúl. She could never accept the fact that her only daughter was not only divorced, but pursuing a career. That was totally unacceptable. Catholics are never supposed to get divorced. It was “until death do us part.” No wonder Sonia was a mess. Divorce was a devastating experience for the entire family.