Be grateful.

Be grateful.
Be grateful you have a job.
Be grateful you’re white.
Be grateful for your healthy children.
Be grateful you’re not a kid anymore.
Be grateful you’re not (that) old.
Be grateful you grew as tall as you did.
Be grateful they didn’t hire you for that job.
Be grateful for your voice.
Be grateful for the opportunity.
Be grateful you can manage that debt.
Be grateful for your citizenship.
Be grateful for the right to vote.
Be grateful you survived.
Be grateful you can feel that pain.
Be grateful you can still love.
Be grateful it was just a joke.

I hear you
telling me to find gratitude,
but I wonder.
Is this how you share the bitterness of your pain and disappointment in a world that didn’t see your value?

Because you don’t have a job.
Because you’re not white.
Because your children are not healthy.
Because you didn’t get to be a kid.
Because you are (that) old.
Because you didn’t grow tall either.
Because they did hire you for that job, and it cost you something important.
Because you don’t have a voice.
Because you didn’t get the opportunity.
Because you can’t manage that debt.
Because you don’t have citizenship.
Because you don’t have the right to vote.
Because you survived, too.
Because that pain hurts like hell.
Because you missed out on love.
Because it wasn’t just a joke.

And gratitude hasn’t saved either one of us.
Neither has silence.

Tell me your story
instead of asking me to find gratitude in mine.
Tell me your story
so that I can be grateful for you.

Your trans friend,

Robin

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