I’m starting to dislike my boyfriend.
By Anonymous
The man who holds me firmly and gently at the same time.
The man who pores over textbooks with me, studying for the same med school exams.
The man who I stay stuck in hours-long traffic jams to see.
He has all the confidence in the world, and all he wants is me.
My “dreamy” white boyfriend.
Maybe “dreamy” isn’t strong enough of a word.
I cannot count on my own two hands how many classmates adore him
For nothing save the fact that he is movie-star handsome and can play the guitar.
I will forever question why he didn’t choose a Barbie instead of me.
They could have continued a perfectly privileged life together.
Maybe “privileged” isn’t strong enough of a word.
He could speak volumes on racism and police brutality, so intelligently and eloquently.
He analyzed Philando’s last moments again and again without wincing.
“Black Lives Matter” button on his backpack, yet he stays out of every argument.
He is lazy — aware that he is able to speak out, but never needing to.
Maybe “lazy” isn’t strong enough of a word.
He does not know how it feels to be in a white coat and still feel invalidated,
To see the uncertainty in patients’ eyes when I pull out my stethoscope to listen.
He struts breezily through clinic, white man in a white coat, ignorant to how patients already trust him as a doctor.
Indifferent to how lovely a white life he has lived so far.
Maybe “indifferent” isn’t strong enough of a word.
He does not know the pressure of craving success so that my parents’ struggles were “worth it,”
Nor the weight of needing to defy the stereotype of the meek and submissive brown girl.
He has never had to fight to prove that he deserves to wear a hospital ID.
I dislike how much I yearn to be loved by someone so naïve.
Maybe “dislike” isn’t strong enough of a word.
I’m starting to despise my boyfriend.
I already despise my white boyfriend.
I feel my brown cheeks flush with anger whenever I’m near him.
I’ve hated my white boyfriend since day one of medical school.
And yet, I share a bed with him tonight.
I try to burrow deeper into the space he has made for me in his arms,
Hoping to occupy some of the space in his world.
Knowing that we come from different galaxies.
And his is brighter.
