Microaggression and The Long Game

 

"Mad World" by Gary Jules; included in the Donnie Darko Soundtrack (YouTube, attr: Gary Jules Official)

This post was written by: Bold & Beautiful

 

Today I was one of the people talking to myself in a big city, because it helped calm me down from the constant micro-aggression, especially flowing between women.

We often glance at other women up and down like a cordoned-off animal at a zoo.

 

“Are my shoes cheap looking or are they too expensive for someone like me to afford” flashes through my mind like a comet whenever I pass someone who does that. In this world of casual and sophisticated wear, one is either too basic or not flashy enough.

 

Micro-aggression seems to be a long game. I don’t think people go berserk overnight; those who are hostile towards others do not expect an immediate result in my opinion.

 

I always wondered what it takes to become crazy. When I see people talking to themselves; soiled and unafraid of moving vehicles, it makes some sort of sense to me now. Did bullies drive them to the point where they became small? I’ll admit some of them are in the streets because of drugs, dementia, and other things, but then others might have just given up. If micro-aggression is a long game, a lot of us will be a little crazier, a little more broken physically and spiritually with a little less self-esteem, and overall less joyful. It takes quite a long time of enduring this behavior from so many others for a smiling person to stop smiling in my opinion.

 

Micro-aggression can often be so subtle that many times only two people know that it’s happening. I define micro-aggression as this: bullying so subtle that even the people being bullied wonder if they’re just making shit up in their mind. It’s often done out of spite; whether it’s racism, sexism, or jealousy, it’s motivated by a self-serving disdain or hatred for the target. It may even be done by people who seem to have full lives with family surrounding them, and yet for a split second they look up and fake a cough or casually remark how ugly a stranger’s clothing is or some other disparaging critique, then go right back to being family oriented like nothing happened.

 

One example of that circumstance and behavior happened one day when my husband and I were at a fast food restaurant; a stranger out of nowhere asked me if we always text each other while we sit face to face. In my mind, the man was paranoid that we were communicating about him. It sometimes boggles the mind that people who are not “loners” can be so petty.

 

Micro-aggressors can be with their wife and kids and still find time to notice those minding our own business; they just cannot leave people alone. Picture this: a lady who saw me with my husband at the supermarket walked past us in the juice aisle with an odd expression on her face, then doubled back to tell me that I could get the juice cheaper online. People could say that she was being helpful. It would appear to be if I did not go to the other side of my husband once I noticed her studying us. She did not take the cue that I didn’t want to be bothered.

 

Lately, I’ve trained myself to react less; I do not want to have an outburst, after which says, “You see? They’re all violent.” We’re not. The ones who play that game of bullying are in it for the long run, so they can pass the negative energy ball to the next generation of bullies as if they're playing soccer until goal.

 

When someone asked, “how come you get to use the N-word? Instead of saying that word was created specifically to shake us to our core, I just said, “I don’t use it.” Perhaps a better reaction would have been to say, “please, never speak to me again.”

 

My soul is still intact. For those who suck joy from others for their own nourishment, maybe they need to be left where they are found. If I bump into them on First Avenue downtown, they need to stay there without me letting them live rent-free in my head. I need to erase them from my mind permanently. My heart is bruised, but it beats; it is sensitive and clean. If misery loves company, then I need to know better people because the miserable ones will bring only me misery.

 

Internal aggression from those who look like me or share my culture is even more despicable. Some people are flabbergasted that some of us want a soft life; pretty dresses, flowers, tea, perfumes and what not. Some things that are called bougie are just lifestyle choices that make us happier. Some of us label basic happiness as bougie, but then why should certain other people have all the fun? Earth is here for everyone, but some people are fooled with titles such as kings, queens, and presidents. Those titles were made up by people smart enough to try and control some of the resources. I am entertained by corny, unrealistic romantic comedy and I want more of that for myself.

 

I want to be feminine, yet femininity for a black woman can often seem so far away when you’re standing here. People dare to think I can tolerate more pain. I want soft hands, soft feet, good soap, a clean apartment, a garden, and so on. Yet, when I’m outside I feel a little erased.

 

Who cares if I’m being abandoned? But at least don’t pass me on the sidewalk like you want to pass through me. The sidewalk belongs to everyone and some walk in the center. I know that I’m not invisible because you’re staring at me looking right back at you.

 

That aggression does not work on me, because in 2025, we know what it is. And I’m smiling as though my soul is palpable because it’s still there; respectful, but resolute.