"No, Babe. It’s not something you can understand."

Jace reflects on how it feels to live in the margins.

Growing up, I learned the hard way that making friends meant finding others who shared the same reality. Bonding happened when we had a shared experience to talk or complain about. Sometimes, it was school and homework. Other times, it was organizing for a common cause. On very few occasions, it was a shared belief system.

As an adult, I have friends from all walks of life. Friends that look like me, and friends that don’t. I have very little in common with most of my friends. Our bonding often looks like stimulating conversation and entertaining philosophical ideas.

And yet, lately, I find myself thinking about how much I miss being friends with people who share my lived reality.

Fair warning, below are accounts of my personal experience with race, disability, immigration, and a whole bunch of other stuff that might be uncomfortable to read. Be kind. This is for the people who share my reality.