how to be respected

I’ve been afraid to say some things in my writing because it can be vulnerable, and when I’m responded to with judgment, cruelty, disrespect, and lack of understanding, it hurts.

I have certain disadvantages, as a fat crazy woman, and the world treats me in certain ways.  When I’m disrespected, that’s pretty normal for me.  It’s an everyday thing.

niceness

If you’re not a fat crazy woman, the world might be nicer to you.  It would depend on your skin color, perceived race, how disabled you are, how queer you seem, how trans you seem, how much money you have.

Sometimes I realize we all live in different versions of the same world, based on our demographics.  I’m not making that up.  You can see how a judge sentences two people for the same crime, and wow, the difference!  Life in prison without possibility of parole is given to a Black man, and 18 months is given to a white man, by the same judge, for the same crime.

I will never be a Black man or a white man.  Unless I get really sick and die from something like cancer, as my mom did earlier this year, I’ll probably also never be thin.  When I walk into a room, there’s a certain response, or lack of response.  Some of that is kind of up to me–how friendly I act, what clothes I choose to wear, my facial expressions, how afraid or confident I seem.

But a lot of it is not so much up to me.  I’m nervous a lot.  I didn’t choose nervousness–it came to me from trauma and pain.  I have social differences, sensory challenges, extreme moods, paranoia at times.  Agoraphobia, too much anxiety.  I hear voices.  I’m rather happy and do a ton of good, considering.

I cry and feel all day, but it seems productive.  I’m not crying for no reason–I have a flood of reasons.  Really, I’m doing great.  I set aside two years to grieve my mom’s death.  That was a great idea.

respect

I’m living in a world where doctors can barely hear me.  It’s not because I’m talking too quietly.  It has more to do with a lack of respect.  I’m assumed to be stupid until I prove otherwise.  But if they can’t hear me, they can’t learn I’m not stupid.

Stupid people deserve respect too.  I wish all people got respect, no exceptions.  That might go a long way toward justice, peace, and healing.  I shouldn’t have to prove anything, to be respected–that should be standard.  It’s a lot quicker and easier to dismiss people.

brave body

I have almost 44 years of experience in this body.  It started out way smaller, but it’s the same body all this time, which has been abused, neglected, shamed, violated, starved, pinched by calipers, weighed by hundreds of scales, critically judged, spurned, poisoned by pollution, compared to other bodies, bruised, poked, laughed at, and insulted.

Wow, that wasn’t very nice, the world behaved that way.  And my body carried on–she is a brave body, so helpful and kind.  She’s done very little direct violence, especially considering the violences done to her.

The truths of my body are simple and real.  It doesn’t know how to lie.  Here it is, all three hundred whatever pounds of it.  You don’t really know unless you’ve lived in it.  Even then, you might not know.  I pay a lot of attention, but my body still contains mysteries.

I’m not the only person who the system doesn’t work for.  If the system works for you, that must be fun.  To go somewhere that was designed for you, where you’ll be respected and cared for, your pain will be taken seriously, your strengths will be valued, your weaknesses will receive compassion.

I’d like to find that place and go to it.  Usually I only find that in my own home.  Thank you to Ming for that.

multiple worlds

The world wasn’t made for me.  If a tv is playing, I have a sensory problem with that.  Chairs are often too small for me and cause me physical pain.  Things cost more money than I have.  I can’t drive to an appointment, as I can’t drive.

I don’t ask for you to be sorry for me–just basic respect would be nice, and for you to admit we live in different worlds, in a way.  In your world, you might be able to sit in any chair and trust it won’t break.  In your world, doctors might listen to you and consider what you say as potentially true.  Your moods might stay in a range from 1 to 4 most days, while I’m experiencing 1 to 9.

helpfulness

Who knows, really.  A friend asked on facebook “Has a cop ever helped you?”  I said no–I see cops and feel afraid.  They harass me, intimidate me, and kill people who are crazy like me.  I avoid them when I can!  Many people said no, like I said, but some people replied that they had been helped by cops.

I didn’t try to ascertain all our demographics, but whether cops have helped you has a lot to do with how white you are, how much money you’re perceived to have, how homeless you are, how crazy you seem at the time, what neighborhood you’re in…

There are many different cops in the world, with different motivations and ways of being.  But overall, we know that people with certain traits are treated in certain ways.

If cops are helpful to you, please don’t believe that’s because you’re superior.  I see people taking credit all day for things they had no hand in.  It’s kind of like patriotism.  My country is best because…  Wow, like high school rivalries.  My school is best because…

Thank you for listening to my tale.  I appreciate you giving me a moment.  Thank you for using what privilege you have to help people who have less, and for not blaming the victim.