As a white-skin, blonde hair European woman born in the Nordics, I fall into the wealthiest, most lucky, smallest percentage of people in the world. I was born in Finland, in a small town called Hyvinkaa.
I have never understood the part that luck plays in this. It seems like one big lottery. I might as well have been born in Mali, with severe malnutrition from birth. Why was I not one of the people fleeing war in Vietnam, seeking refuge in Finland? Why was I so lucky to be born in Finland? Why did I, specifically, have the luxury of earning an acceptable higher degree after my studies, which has allowed me so much since my graduation? Why was I so lucky to be so many times in the right place at the right time, leading me to live the life of my dreams?
And yes, I realize it sounds like a load of horsecrap. But this is what I have pondered and will keep doing so, for a large percentage of my time. I appreciate it. I just don’t get it.
This is how the cookie crumbles I suppose. But still. I don’t get it.