My privilege is showing.

I approached a cop sitting in his car in my neighborhood. I inquired what he was doing, and had a friendly conversation with him before we each went our separate ways. I was not afraid of him, nor him of me.

My privilege is showing.

I went through security scanner at the airport, doing spirit fingers as I lifted my arms up, accidentally smacking the TSA agent in the face with my awkward gangly arms. We both just started laughing about the awkwardness, and I apologized profusely. No secondary screen or additional scrutiny was needed.

My privilege is showing.

I took an extended mental health break from work for personal and family reasons, and didn’t have to worry if my spouse and I had enough money to pay for my housing or other basic needs.

My privilege is showing.

I took an unpaid summer internship to further career prospects and build my resume. My side hustle paid for my party budget, but my rent, food, and car were paid for by the “Bank of Mom and Dad.”

My privilege is showing.

My dog sniffed out a dog park at an apartment building in my neighborhood (not our building). He runs around, plays with the other dogs, and no one asks if we live in the building complex or not. Are we allowed to be there?

Does it matter when I’m a white lady?

My privilege is showing.

What privilege do you have as a white/cis/male/wealthy/US citizen? What things do we take for granted, that should really be available to all? Are your privileges actually pushing someone else down? Is your success at the detriment of others? Where do we each draw the line? Where are we each willing to give things up, so that others can climb the economic ladder?

For more of my musings on money, privilege, or other issues, connect with me on Instagram.