Eating Humble Pie

Humble pie has been a staple for me since starting this medical journey. I think I’ll take a slice now, thanks. Some empathized with my last post to the core. Others were shocked saying I was offensive and elitist. I was taken aback, but after re-reading I see that I could have come off that way.

I believe that I can be above my circumstances. However, as the daughter of a trailer house salesman, I would never believe myself elite or superior over another person.

I feel I should clarify: I do not believe “people” and “circumstances” are synonyms.

My post was about feeling judged, not about judging, i.e., the judging eyes in the supermarket when I used food stamps or WIC vouchers (whether real or perceived). It was about the nursery leader scolding me about my child’s pants being too small and knowing there is nothing I can do about it. It’s about living in a place that makes me cry when I look out the window because my surroundings are so bleak.

I don’t care who you are, doctor wife, single mother of 7 from the ghetto, or riches to rags because of terminal illness, it sucks to have to turn to help from others or the government to survive. NO ONE should have to feel like they BELONG in that situation. We want to yell out our explanations so that others won’t judge us.

Why do I care what anyone thinks? Who knows, human nature perhaps…

My post was about working honest, yet humiliating or undesirable jobs, many times under our qualifications, to make ends meet, for the sake our husbands’ careers.

I volunteer with teenagers and if I could get those kids to believe that they are “above their circumstances” I would consider it a huge victory. Perhaps we’d have less teen pregnancy. Maybe more kids would stay in school. Maybe if I keep telling myself the same thing, I will start to believe it.