Easter with the in-laws
My husband's family doesn't like me. We get along well enough—it's always polite smiles and hugs, but they're empty. In the moment we all pretend like I'm not the black sheep they could do without. They're all Trump supporters and they know I'm not, and that I'm vocal and active in other settings. I try not to stir up shit at the family gatherings, in part because there's really no point. Everyone knows where everyone stands and no one is going to change anyone's mind. It's depressing, more than anything, when we get into it. I don't let every little thing slide though and I'm also not comfortable tolerating blatant racism, so that can create some tension. I tolerate more than I'm proud of, to be honest. But I do have a line.
I don't think it's all politics. That's probably a lot of it. But I'm also weird, and I was raised white trash. There are social expectations that I don't meet either because I don't recognize the expectation or because it doesn't jive with who I am. I don't know, really; no one has ever sat me down and said "here's why we don't like you" because no one will even admit to my face that they don't like me. It's just something everyone knows in the background, I guess. It comes out in the occasional snide remark and whispers I'm not supposed to hear.
Today we went and had lunch for Easter at his parents. Everyone sat around the table, catching up and reminiscing. Someone was talking about how she's lived in her house for 30 years and how she misses her old house in a nearby town. I asked what she thinks of the current town, because I have a few friends that live there and they all like it okay. She doesn't like it at all because there are too many Mexicans. I recoiled. I work with one of those Mexicans. She's one of the people I had in mind when I asked. Before I could collect myself with a response the conversation moved on and I found myself in a familiar moment of kicking myself for not responding. The time had passed for it to be conversational and bringing it back up would be opening a whole can of worms. Later, Mexicans came up again for some reason. People were talking about their religious affiliations (how on Earth this came up, I couldn't tell you) and what churches they frequent. The same lady says "long as they don't go to mine!" and I cut in with "What's wrong with Mexicans?" She didn't have a response. My husband's grandma, who I actually adore, said "nothing" and the conversation moved right along. My heart pounded in my chest even just from that four-word sentence because it's scary to speak up in this room full of people. My opinion is in the minority by a long shot, and I'm not likely to have anyone in my corner. Hubs tends to let it ride, so if I'm taking a stand it's all by myself.
Later I noticed my mother-in-law and Hubs's counsin-in-law whispering in the kitchen. I heard a comment at one point, as MIL picked up the volume on her whisper a bit, and I'm confident that they were talking about me. The facade shattered and it was hard to recover. In these moments I just want to shrink away—find a corner of the couch to curl up on and read a book or something. Just check out. What's the point of pretending if they're just going to talk shit directly in front of me? The day went on just fine, and I did my best to appear unphased. When we left I told Hubs and he didn't say much, tried to change the subject. I steered the conversation back and said that I know how everyone feels, and it doesn't bother me that they were talking about me. What bothers me is that it was in front of me. I was just a few feet away, without even a wall to separate us. It feels like insult to injury, and it's not something that I would do to one of them. He still didn't have much to say. At one point in trying to explain my feelings to him I asked "yaknow?" and he said "no, not really." which felt like salt on the injury that was already insulted. My husband's family doesn't like me to such a degree that they'd stand off to the side and talk shit about me right in front of me (but never to me, of course) and he doesn't understand how I feel about it. It's not that I'm sad they don't like me. It's been 10 years, I've long-since come to terms with that. I feel small, disregarded. It doesn't matter that I'm sitting right there. They'll spare my feelings enough to not say anything directly to me, but give it 10 feet and a whisper and that's fine. Because the sparing of my feelings is a myth I made up. The facade isn't to spare my feelings. It's to maintain their relationship with Hubs. My feelings clearly don't matter to them, and are apparently unintelligible to my husband.
We're having a baby this year. Will he understand how I feel when they talk about me to my kid or make barely-veiled remarks about my parenting? Will he stand up for me? I like to think he would. But if he can't even comprehend why I'm hurt, why would he? What if she takes after Mama and they do the same thing to her? Will he understand then? Will he stand up with me on her behalf to tell them they can't treat her that way? I think so. I hope so. But I don't know so. I guess only time will tell. Maybe it won't be an issue. Maybe they'll love her like they love him, or they'll have some basic decency to be more careful around her. Again, I hope so. But I don't know so. I know these hypotheticals aren't healthy, and it's pointless to worry about something twice. But I can't help but wonder.