Member-only story
I am Not Your Token
I am not your token.
Nor am I your piñata or someone you should see as a pushover.
I am sorry if my disability makes you uncomfortable. I won’t apologize for who or what I am.
I am sorry if my politics don’t align with yours. But to diminish my worth because of what I believe to try and make me feel like I’m wrong? Oh no, just no.
You couldn’t even begin to know my life, let alone understand it. So, don’t try.
I have been set up, lied to, used and discarded. And survived it all.
I am not your token.
I am not here to amuse you or be your punchline.
I am not here to be a statistic, checkmark or to be turned into one.
I can forgive some, but not all. Life is dirty and messy. Sometimes the dirt doesn’t get swept or washed away and the messes leave stains that never come out.
I don’t blame my parents, none of us should. We are all flukes and proof that they had sex at least once.
Friends come and go. I don’t miss many people. I miss my dog.
I am smart, I am not a genius. I taught myself most of what I’ve learned.
Patience is rarely rewarded. Persistence sometimes gets the job done. Insistence might work, but it…
