White Fragility Can’t Deal With My Self-Care

How white women wield vulnerability as a weapon in the home

Rivka Wolf
Fourth Wave



My housemate bought the sponges. Some of the sponges.

I bought the dishwasher detergent. The laundry detergent. The paper towels. The toilet paper. Almost all of the silverware and dishes are mine.

I’m sure if I look closely, I’ll find something in this house I did not buy. Maybe. If I think about it long enough.

Let’s take a wander through here, shall we?

The piles of lint left on the floor. She must have taken it off the laundry machine, and then simply left it there. Someone will get to it eventually, I suppose. Who will? Who does she think is going to pick it up?

The dishes (mine) that she used last night and probably won’t wash until the next time she needs them. We talked about washing them sooner since we both need them. She forgot immediately — except when she needs something, and then she remembers right away.

The one chore she does always remember to do is take the trash out. Actually, she has her boyfriend do it these days. She likes to make jokes about this. Apparently I’m supposed to think it’s funny that she can’t be bothered to do basic household tasks, so she has to get the guy she’s seeing to do them…