Challenge accepted.

I’m always late. I don’t mean any disrespect, honestly, I am just so disorganized, I have trouble getting out the door. I swear it’s never you & always me.

Sometimes my accent comes out. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid, (though I can FEEL stupid), it just means I’m tired or I forget words in English, or I learned words in a British accent or I simply can’t hear how to pronounce it correctly, so I can’t say it correctly. (I’ve lived in the US for more than 40 years, & I still can’t hear the difference between “color” & “collar,” unless you slow down for me as if I am a 4-year-old. That’s not condescending at all.)

I didn’t know any people of color for the first 12 years of my life, since Russia didn’t participate in the slave trade. Even though majority of my life has been spent here, I can still say an insensitive thing — & not even know it’s insensitive! Having no white liberal guilt, since my ancestors never owned slaves, yet being white & having that privilege, I would say something & be caught by utter surprise to be told by my son that it was racist. How? Why? What? I needed an education — luckily I have friends of color who know me well enough not to take offense but to enlighten me. I am still a work in progress. Aren’t we all?

I am too much of a negative skeptic. It’s one thing to question authority, it’s another NOT believe a word that comes out of ANY politician’s mouth, no matter the party. In part it’s my Communist childhood to blame, in part by pragmatism with just a dash of pessimism. (I have no idea where there’s character traits come from, my parents are very positive people.) But it’s not a healthy way to live — science proves that optimists live longer, & even I strongly dislike negative people. Most of my days are spend acting as if I am a positive, “normal” human, while inside I am completely certain that things NEVER get better and everything that I love will be taken away from me any moment now. It’s exhausting. Yes, I am in therapy, why do you ask?

So there you have it. Ninety percent of the time I walk around FEELING depressed, even though I am medicated, pessimistic, chronically late (yes, you can actually both feel late & be late) & not too bright, although I am super educated.

I, too, am what I am.

Written by

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.

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