The Peasant Class
I have had the luck to have a bit of upward mobility in my life. Mostly it was easy because coming from Sweden even the peasants have a lot of opportunities. In fact most of them seem to believe they are middleclass, but the grotty showers show the truth of the matter.
So I have moved cultures in two ways, I have moved abroad from Sweden to the UK, and then again I have now landed on a thin line between peasant and middle class. My social circle expanding to both sides of the line.
With my peasant friends I laugh, say anything that comes to mind and feel present and alive, with my middle class friends I enjoy the good foor and do my best to keep my mouth shut.
Just smile and nod, Sofi, smile and nod.
But everytime I meet a woman who has been raised in a family with a nice shower and secure income there is a nagging sense of jealousy. What could I have been if my parents were more comfortable in life?
I think the main difference for me is that they seem to have been raised to take up space where I have been raised to keep my head down. Where she was taught to use her beauty to her advantage without leaning on it alone, my family did their best to keep me humble.
And keep me humble they did, I am so humble I can barely function. The shame that floods my entire being after any social outing is almost unbearable. For a long time I hid away from life, hoping it would end soon before anyone noticed I'm alive.
But what if, instead, I could be aware of how people see me. Good or bad, and what if I didn't feel guilty for taking up space? How would I even begin? I may never find a way to shake the shame but there must be a way for me to change how I move in the world.
