Relationships, in general, are difficult to maintain. However, when you love someone you go the distance to make it work. You make compromises, you try to not to lose your cool about the small stuff, holding your tongue and choosing your battles.
Which means if you are the neat one in the relationship, you tend to tidy up more than your partner, wife, or husband. My wife often tells me that I am very anal when it comes to organization, to which I reply, “Everything has its place, and should something be removed from that place, it should be returned to its rightful location.” That comment is usually met with rolling of the eyes and an exasperated sigh.
She and I will have been together for ten years and married for eight years this August. And like most couples, we’ve had our disagreements, our ups, and downs, but we always seem to find our way back to each other. But also like most relationships, there is always one subject matter that continues to be a sore subject. For us, that subject is her family and the way that they treat me.
At the beginning of our relationship, their very rude attitude towards me was met with a shrug, because I felt in time they will get to know me and this animosity will pass. But as I mentioned time has passed and nothing really has changed. There are some members of her family that say hello, and others that keep their lips tightly closed. There are even a couple of them in which I have on occasion had a conversation with, but that doesn’t happen often and it when it does, it is only for a few minutes. And it does not happen each and every time I see them. There are only two of her family members who are consistent and genuinely nice to me (one of her sisters and one of her brothers).
While this bothered me to the core, I still continued to frequent the family outings and participate in the gathers, but recently I’ve decided that I will no longer do that. I have decided that I will no longer put myself out there to continuously be treated as if I have leprosy, or like I am the invisible to them.
Where at one time I thought to compromise to please my wife, I no longer have the strength to carry out this particular compromise. For one thing, there are factors, such as that of us being of a different race, that of which most of her family members are Trump supporters and my lack of understanding why–my wife doesn’t understand how their (her family) lack of communicating makes me feel.
In this day and age, you would think that we as a country have come to accept people for who they are, but too many incidents of late tell us differently. Now that I have been schooled as to how some of her family members feel, I just do not see any other solution for his dilemma and I do not feel that this subject matter will ever have a proper solution or compromise–honestly, how does one come back from such a thing?
A famous person once said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” That person was Albert Einstein.
Have you ever noticed that more often in life we tend to take care of everyone else and leave ourselves shortchanged, exhausted and only wanting to take the small amount of time we’ve carved out for ourselves to catch up on things that we neglected?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a selfish self-centered individual. However, I’ve come to realize that by my being there for others and putting my needs, desires, and dreams on the back burner that I am in fact procrastinating. I am going the extra mile for others and using those deeds, as excuses for not doing that which I desire.
Well no more! I mean really, what is the purpose of setting goals if not to work towards them and rewarding oneself with the fruit of thy labor. Isn’t that exactly what I am doing when I extend my services and/or lend a hand to others and don’t at least work on steps towards my own goals?
Going forward, I will continue to carry out acts of kindness and help whenever I can, however, each and every day, I will also work towards my goals as well. For I’ve come to realize that gratitude and change is the only way that I will be able to get to where I want to be.
With all that has been done to Blacks in the past, you would think that ppl would learn from their grave mistakes. Instead, some continue to harbor HATRED toward people of color for no other reason, than that of Race. Learn from your ancestor’s mistakes and be better than they were.
Not so long ago. Vertus Wellborn Hardiman (March 9, 1922 – June 1, 2007) became a victim of a US government human radiation experiment. At the age of 5 the experiment left him with a painful skull deformity that forced him to cover his head for 80 years. Hardiman was born in Lyles Station, Indiana. In 1928, Vertus attended the local elementary school. The parents of 10 children at school were approached by county hospital officials and were told that there was a new treatment for “ringworm.” What the parents didn’t know was that the children were actually part of a human experiment on extreme radiation chosen because they lived in such an isolated location and because they were all Black. The children were exposed to high levels and many were left with disfiguring scalp scars and head trauma. The effects of the experiments were mostly hidden from the townspeople of Lyles Station. Many of the children wore wigs and hats to cover up the results of the experiments. Vertus Hardiman finally broke his silence more than 70 years later, to a friend, Wilbert Smith, who partnered with Brett Leonard to produce the documentary, “Hole in the Head: A Life Revealed.” The 2011 film is the amazing story of Hardiman and the nine other children who were affected by the horrible experiment in Lyles Station. Hardiman was physically affected the worst by the radiation. As a result, he experienced a slow dissolving of the bone matter of his skull for the rest of his life. The ensuing deformed head and a gaping hole at its top were disguised by a succession of hats, toupees, and wigs. Every day of his life he spent an hour changing bandages and dressing the wound. He died at age 85. Upon his death, Vertus bequeathed eight million dollars to his church and favorite educational scholarship fund. Vertus harbored no anger and was known to say frequently, “If I am angry, my prayers will not be answered because my heart’s not right.”
Written by Pam WillIam December 16th, 2018, courtesy of African American Photography