flaca girl (a rant…)

When I go to observe you in your workplace, in the coffee shop, wherever you are—I mind my own business. Of course I secretly record your conversations (in my head) or type them out on my computer. But I don’t butt into your conversations and give you my advice. I don’t put myself in your world. I put you into my writing.

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So, if you want to watch me carrying five bags of books and computer stuff, then so be it. Or if you plan on gazing at a distance as a 105 lb “flaca girl” lifts a massive wheelchair out of her car, then lifts her grandmother into the wheelchair while a toddler clings to her leg, go right ahead.

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But whatever you do, keep your opinions and your name-calling to yourself. If you think I have too many bags, or if my hair is too blue, or if I have too much on my plate, then keep it to yourself. My size has nothing on my abilities. I overwhelm myself sometimes, but during those critical moments,  I can handle anything because I have no other choice. I’m sensitive because I’ve been through a lot. I’m sensitive because I hate seeing other people suffer. Yet every experience I have makes me stronger.  I can lift that wheelchair with my eyes closed. And don’t you forget it.

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