After nearly five years of managing to evade Covid-19, I finally caught it last week. I had been under so much chronic, unrelenting stress since December 22nd, 2023. Why did I feel so compelled to write a poem about the tragedy befalling thousands of innocent babies and children in Gaza? Why did I feel so compelled to anonymously post it, knowing there was a chance I might get in trouble? Why did I create a petition knowing I can never single-handedly stop white supremacy-upholding admins in Facebook groups from shaming, silencing or kicking out members of the most disrespected demographic in the United States?

Why did I let my guard down and let my son’s school psychologist further stress me out with his passive aggression and racial microaggressions? Why did I let a so-called Internet personality named DiDi Delgado get to me with her petty insults? And why did I stop masking and compulsively sanitizing my hands in stores? Why did I have to sniff nearly EVERY scent of hand sanitizer gel in Bath and Body Works?

 I have no real answers other than stress, mental anguish and a need to escape by sniffing scented hand sanitizer �

But going back to the root cause of it all, this all started because I cared about people outside of my nuclear family. People I will never get to meet. Children whose eyes will never open to see another sunrise. 

I wish I could’ve been just another person that looked away and said nothing.

But I couldn’t. I noticed that a white woman in the group made a Christmas song parody lamenting the tragedy of having to deal with in-laws.

And I thought to myself, what about the elephant in the room? Thousands of innocent Palestinian babies and children are being slaughtered in the name of self-defense and this is the best you can do?

Another member, a Black woman, posted an ask in the group for skin cream recommendations for her white husband. Had I emulated her, I would still be a member of the Leaning In and Falling Over Professional Mom group today. A trusted place for me to ask for advice, support, recommendations and a safe space to vent since February 2020. But alas, my life is like a real-life Twilight Zone. All good things must come to an end when I bring out people’s true colors.

Maybe if I hadn’t been an autistic introvert, I would’ve hung out with the group creator in downtown Silver Spring, and she would’ve seen me as human. 

However, as an adult child of an alcoholic, I was raised in a very tumultuous household and I shied away from alcohol as an adult. I would sometimes joke "I have plenty of reasons to drink, so don’t get me started!”

But only if I had bonded with her and other LIFO members over wine and embraced the Mommy wine culture, I would’ve had friends and allies in real life.

Instead, I stayed true to who I was and look where it got me. I no longer have a supportive online community to turn to. That’s what white supremacy does. It gatekeeps. I was the odd one out - an unemployed Black woman who just happened to be a badass in her own right and told the stories in the group. Stories that the group’s creator would secretly come to resent.

Today is Valentine’s Day.  It doesn’t really mean anything to me, but I want to take a moment to appreciate YOU for being on this journey with me. YOU who didn’t have to sign. YOU who could’ve scrolled on by. I love you all and thank you for lifting up a stranger who still feels the pain of not having a tribe, a community thanks to white supremacy. It’s so internalized that I have to check all the boxes to be accepted in ANY groups. I’m not Black enough, or Asian enough. However, by your actions and continued support, you let me know that I am enough. And that’s better than a bouquet of red roses on this day. I hope you all have a great one and PLEASE continue to share my petition! Many thanks!