On Perspective

I hate heat. I haven't worked out consistently since mid-July, and I am the heaviest I have been in close to five years. In the year after leaving my job in Boston, I have been unemployed or underemployed, and given the response rate on positions I have applied for, I am constantly worried that I will remain in this cycle for the rest of my working life. My boyfriend's salary is currently supporting both of us, and it makes me incredibly self-conscious.

But there's a massive wildfire burning 30 miles away from here that has destroyed nine homes so far. Homelessness is a thing. So is terminal illness, sex trafficking, and terrorism. I get it, there are problems out there far worse than my own.

By all accounts, I'm privileged. I was born white, I grew up in the suburbs, and while my family wasn't loaded, I never wanted for anything. I did well in high school, went to a good college on a half tuition scholarship, and eventually landed a job that paid well enough to allow me to live comfortably. While my current employment situation is nonexistent, that was by choice. I have an amazing boyfriend, a great family, and a roof over my head. My life is pretty awesome, and for that, I am grateful.

Yes, things can always be worse. I mean, technically, being mauled by a bear isn't as bad as being mauled to death by a bear, but I'm guessing the dude who got mauled still feels pretty bad.

Perspective is a bitch, man.

One of my favorite people ever posted yet another great article over on his blog Dad Lunch, a blog I thoroughly enjoy despite having neither a child nor a penis, but I digress.

In this post, my friend shares his experience with complications during the birth of his daughter. One part of the article that resonated with me was the idea that my friend felt guilty that his situation hadn't been a worst case scenario, that somehow because there was a happy ending (and for real, his kid is the cutest ever), he shouldn't be allowed to process the experience the same way someone less fortunate would. I'm not a dad, but I get it.

I'm all for counting your blessings and I think it's healthy to have a positive attitude most of the time, but sometimes it just feels good to feel bad. And I don't think it's wrong to feel bad about the things that affect you, even if they seem trivial by comparison. Simply put, it's okay to get frustrated, and just because your problems aren't catastrophic, don't feel like you need to keep them to yourself. Meet a friend for a glass of wine and a bitch session (you're lucky, some people don't have friends. or wine), go for a run (you're lucky, some people can't run), or hide out in your bed and binge watch some Netflix for the day (you're lucky, some people don't even have Netflix).

Sometimes you need to shut perspective up, and just do you.