On being Othered

When I spoke of my things you always gave me that look like my life was trivial and something a little bit cute.

You demonstrated this when you said small words in reaction–

like, “Hmm, yeah.”

And, “I’d like to just live like that.”

As if my life is a fantasy available for you to escape inside of.

I suppose that’s what we do, isn’t it? Voyeur into other people’s lives and imagine living inside a different world. But it’s something else when your life is made smaller and less-than. Like my simple working-class woman life of doing nice things for poor people….

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