To that woman,
I saw you. I saw the way you nudged your husband when we sat down. I saw the way your eyes burned into the woman who was simply trying to enjoy a family dinner with the man I love. I saw you laugh. I saw you whisper. And yes, I smiled at your daughter when she looked our way because she deserves to see kindness even when her mother chooses cruelty.
I swallowed the sting. I bit back the sharp words. I even held myself back from tossing that basket of chips across your table. Do not mistake my silence for ignorance. I am not blind to racism. Sadly, I brace myself for moments like this.
What breaks me is knowing that the gentlest, kindest, most loving man I have ever known will always have to prove himself simply because he chose me. I do not care how old you are, how your generation was raised, or what part of the world shaped you. At some point, someone poisoned your heart into believing skin tone defines morals.
And yes, it does hurt children. You were right about that. But it is not my children who are hurting. It is yours. Because they are growing up under the shadow of people like you.
And to the next person who tries me like that… the chips will not stay on the table.