If I Were White

Whenever I am at the receiving end of some sort of injustice, I always ask myself: Would this person have done the same thing if I were white? If yes, I let it go. If not, I feel really sad because I know that I cannot change this person's prejudices whatever I do.

My Father-in-Law and I have not had the easiest of relationships. He didn't sign the affidavit of support I needed to get to Germany. I understood his skepticism. I mean, I am this Asian girl he doesn't know from Adam, and he has to theoretically shell out 600 euros a month in case I didn't make it here. Besides, Thomas also had a history of being enthusiastic about something at the beginning, then plateuing at the end. Who knew that this wasn't some short-lived romance?

His current partner is not the monster my MIL portrays her to be. She is quite nice, and we get along well. In fact, I took her, and not my MIL, to go wedding dress shopping because she's more kikay like that. My MIL is not the fashionista.

I dozed off for a few minutes on my reclining chair after having brunch with them and Thomas last Saturday. I was in that hazy area between sleep and consciousness when I heard my FIL refer to me as the "Hausdame." (Housekeeper). I didn't catch the first part of the sentence. It could be in reference to the constant jabs I make at Thomas because he rarely keeps house. I feigned sleep as I heard his partner say that I am his fifth child, in reference to her two biological children and his two biological children.

Then they dropped the subject. I decided to "wake up" a few minutes later.

The question now is, should I let this go?