I Live on a Freak Farm

Everyone is a “freak” to someone. Maybe they don’t know you well enough, or maybe they know you a little too well, but somebody somewhere in the world would judge you to be a freak. If people living in other time periods could look far enough into their future or past to see the late 20th and early 21st centuries, many of them would say the world is full of whole societies of freaks at this time.

Many of us, however, are more likely than others to be seen as “freaks” on a regular basis within our own culture and communities. I live on a freak farm. I love it that way. We have trauma survivors, people living with mental illnesses, autistic people, brown people, queer people, animals with traumatic histories, animals (including humans) with physical disabilities…the list goes on.

When any of us leaves the farm, we’re broken. It’s just a matter of time before someone’s chronic pain kicks in, someone is mentally overstimulated, or someone encounters something that is a trigger for them. The truth is, that all happens at home, too. Off the farm, though, our society has not become strongly invested in accommodating the needs of individuals in order to be stronger as a whole. Our society is still judging people by how they look or who they love.

Off the farm, we’re all broken individuals. At home, we’re beautiful and a family.