Sometimes I feel so very different amongst my family and friends and when I’m out in the world having a meal or shopping. I don’t know anyone with reduced vision such as mine or anyone with a disability (to which I add “thankfully”). Everyone else around me can see and it sets me apart.
Although it’s not a conscious thought, it’s there like an annoying gnat, doing flybys, stopping to taunt me and stick out its tongue. I am sure I’m the only one thinking this, which is further proof that one of these things is not like the other, and my guess is that they would be surprised that I am. Let me add that no one makes me feel this way, it’s just an internal observation based not on a “woe is me” mentality but grounded in facts.
While other people read their menus, reach for the desired sweetener, pick produce and items out of long aisles packed tight with items, I have the restaurant’s offerings read to me and carefully push the cart at the market. I can’t tell if a car is coming at me in the parking lot. I am unable to read the bill or a receipt. And the list goes on.
No one can tell by looking at me that when I look at them, if close enough, I can see the shape of their head but not their face. I am an alien, shapeshifted to look like everyone else.
But when think past myself, aren’t we all carrying something with us that no one else can see? The grieving woman who, after 50 years, now must check the box “widowed” instead of “married”. The man who just found out he needs to have a lump removed and won’t know until then what he’s dealing with. The high schooler who is being bullied who is clearing our plates when out for breakfast.
We all have something that is invisible to the world and a struggle unlike anyone else’s. And in that one, simple truth, we are all the same.