I was going to write a post about another session of throwaway bigotry by some of my work colleagues this afternoon, a deluge of opprobrium that, not for the first time, I felt I ought to be countering, fighting my corner, giving my side of the argument. But, realistically, what would it change? If they knew about the 'real' me, all I would face would be unadulterated hatred, for no gain. In their eyes, I would just be a 'paedo', the lowest of the low. No matter that I've lived my life for so long in such a way as to avoid causing harm, I would simply be condemned, as per the demise of my marriage, for what I am, rather than anything I've done. So I sit in silence, tears of frustration close behind my eyes, listening to the vilification, day in, day out. Sartre was right, hell is other people - some of them, at least.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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