Being a black woman in a European society is one of the most fascinating, frustrating, horrifying, saddening, ridiculous, shameful, mentally draining experiences. Working above and far beyond the expectations of my peers to showcase that I am not illiterate, lazy, codependent, ignorant or have poor work ethic (the definition of which is open to a plethora of undefined behavior and actions). Always being overly cautious with my tone of voice and wording so as not to come off as aggressive in mixed company. Severely restricting the mere mention of the fact that I pump breast milk at work three times a day-even though three of my four superiors at work are women, two of which have children-and instead only telling them what area of the campus I’ll be at and for how long when we are co-scheduling. Feeling somewhat ashamed and sorry for success when loved ones are struggling. Refraining from getting real with a colleague who is feeding the stereotype at work and doing it on your watch so in turn also making you look bad. Being a young, female, professional WOC and mother and wife. Trying to be a leader at work and in the home and just wanting a damn hug someday and to not be personally responsible for the outcome of everything and nothing less.
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