Microaggressions within our socialization require a few words.
Some might say that I’m out of my mind to write down my personal thoughts and publish them on the internet, but I say–naaah! I want to share a few dilemmas I face in life due to race, privilege and culture. This has everything to do with how we’re socialized. The here, now and today.
Perception is everything. This particular incident I’ll share with you is about attitude or point of view. You have the ability to use your words to exercise the thoughts in your head to achieve a healthier mind. I say, let’s figure out a strategy to create an equal world.
What type of person are you? Socially Anxious or Socially Fluid?
There’s this woman in my neighborhood who I befriended. She’s very social, yet her greatest weakness, in my opinion, is that she can’t bear being alone. Then there is me. Well . . . I’m younger than her and I have to encourage myself daily to be social. I have my social butterfly moments, but for the most part, people drain my energy. Alone time is what revitalizes me.
Anyway, back to the story. So my so-called friend in my hood is really upsetting me because there was a guy she befriended who made it very clear that he wasn’t trying to commit to a relationship with her. He wanted to go around and screw people as he pleased without any emotional attachment to her.
I’m listening to her bragging about him like he was hers all because he gave her some attention and a little sumpin’-sumpin’ on the side. She’s under the impression that he treated her great and they had something amazing together. I couldn’t even listen to her. She’s sprung off him, thinking he’s the best thing that ever happened to her because he’s accomplished.
She even went as far as to stalk his ex-wife mildly. The so-called friend was really starting to annoy me. For some reason, it’s not getting through her head. . . Get over it! This is my pet peeve with her. She gives guys like him more power than he already has. He made it clear to her that she wasn’t worth having a monogamous relationship with and she still thinks he’s so great.
Right then, I realized that my new friend is a privileged lady. She’s one of those kinds who get the pick of the litter and now she was bragging about her romantic affair with someone who didn’t even want to be with her. The idea that this beau-ti-ful blond woman should have a great love and that they’re picture perfect together is fake.
Women who have privilege in this society because of the color of their skin irritate me by having a relationship with these conceited, bipolar, womanizing men. If you can do better, then why don’t you actually reach higher, instead of being bamboozled by these knuckleheads, who think they’re players? Those kinds make it easy for these guys to walk all over us because they kiss their butts. She makes life harder for stronger women who want to be taken seriously.
Does your mind get boggled with microaggressions?
Let me break it down for you so it can forever be broken. (I can’t lie. I got that one from Love Jones–the movie). I’m glad my culture is such a breakthrough for her type, but these guys will screw anyone. Yet and still, I’m sick of seeing Mr. Cocky and Lily Lumphead parade around like they’re having the best life. These privileged women get all the cute guys because they’re not a double minority. I’m sick of these types thinking they’re winning in life. That’s not the reality. Minorities should stick together and win. I love growth and empowerment for minority people. We’re not alive to please the majority. Equality and love to all people.
Don’t Go Out of Your Write Mind!
If there are things that bug you, then write them down. I’d encourage anyone reading this to write for their own mental health, as stated in my last blog, Write Your Own Mental Health Perscription. Say what’s bothering you. Express what’s wrong with this world. Say what could be better. Write out how you plan to conquer the world one step at a time. If you can see it on paper, then you’re able to confront it and maybe even do something about it.
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