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Be Grateful, They Said
How putting life in perspective almost broke me
Growing up, everything in my life was picture-perfect.
While other parents became the source of income for divorce lawyers, mine flirted with each other in front of me. I was an only child, so I never had to fight for their attention. Being a first-generation immigrant kid, I had endless learning resources compared to my friends back home. I was a good student. I wasn’t ugly or fat, nor cursed with any congenital disease.
Every time I complained about my classmates picking on me for the pronunciation of my name, my family would tell me that I already had more than what most people could ask for. I needed to put my teenage privileged-ass in perspective.
“Be grateful,” they said.
I was in high school at the time.
Like every other teen, I was insecure and self-conscious. I hated my chubby cheeks, my accent, the Goodwill and Gabe’s clothes I wore, my thick glasses, and the fact that my “friends” made fun of me because I was the only nerd with a 4.0 GPA in the group.
When I had a crush on this guy, I summoned all my courage to write him an email. The next day, he and my friends all had a good laugh about it right in front of me. I was told I was too much.
