Privilege in All Caps

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I have been told I have a privilege of some sort, not the kind to be accessed by money, by chances or by heart but I have a privilege.

It is when you are at your utmost, when you give it your all, you bump along the way and there's nothing to cushion your fall.

That's the moment you realize... "I think I might've been lied to, something is not right."

I have been told a heterosexual cis male has everything in his hands day and night.

Please show me, open my eyes because I did not see it when I was kicked out because "I was my own man",

I did not see it when my loved ones turned into strangers,

I did not find it in the bottles of poison I use to numb my feelings,

I did not see it in the eyes of those who deceived me,

I did not see it in the phrase "man up" I always got when I tried to express myself.

("Man up" is the only thing I can ever remember to cover most of my mistakes and problems. It is an automatic response in my head by a voice that resembles my father's norm. "You are wrong" is my mothers voice because I must also be gender exclusive in a world where I don't seem to fit in any way shape or form.)

I came to a conclusion reader so follow suite:

"I am privileged to pat myself in the back and be there for me when no one is."

I was there for me when I was by myself and discomunicated,

I was there for me when every chance at love I gave drowned my self esteem,

I was there for me when I tried my hardest for what I wanted and never even came close,

I was there for me when I was alone and afraid.

I was there for me when no one ever felt proud of what I became just only seem to point out my negatives.

I was there for me as the ones I love walk away after an endless support.

I was there for me, whenever nobody could.

Yes, I get it now. I am privileged. To hit myself in the chest and say to myself "I love me"

Because in the end it's the only thing I ever wanted from anybody else, but remember I have privilege so I cannot complain...

Pensamientos que naufragan en el mar de los IncomunicadosDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora