Oh my goodness, well you could be a Black mother with a Black child and a Black husband with the stories you’ve shared. This is what life is like for us, every single day. We are more alike than we are different, and when we share stories like these, it helps others reading (those sane and with common sense) put things into perspective.
It’s a struggle living when you’re otherness. Can’t tell you how many times I have been treated like your husband (having to wait to be served at bars before White patrons). White people are a piece of work. The microaggressions cut like knives and we’re just forced to put a little salve on them until the next cut comes — because you know it’s coming. Short of Jesus coming to take up these types of White people all at once, I don’t know how we will ever be free from the misery of racism and White privilege.
I try to write about it in ways that relatable, but if you read the comments before you read any piece of mines, you’ll see just how challenging trying to relate to White people truly is. I thank you for sharing your experiences and being able to see the privileges and benefits White people have.
The more you look, the more you’ll see otherness never gets a break or a fair shake. It’s a life of pure hell, from cradle to grave.