“You are the lucky one”

They tell me

“You are privileged”

Society screams

I am white, I am middle-class, I am American, but I do not always feel lucky

I do not always feel privileged

But when I wake up each day and stretch out until my toes dangle over my twin-sized bed

And my eyes gaze around at my lavender walls covered in paintings, pictures, memories, and stories

I am thankful

I am thankful that despite the fact that I grew up in a broken family

I myself have yet to shatter

I may have cracks that worm their way across my heart

And dark corners that hide stealthily in my mind

But I am still whole

I am thankful that I am still able to love

Even if there were times when I was not loved in return

I am thankful that I do not feel insignificant

Despite the naysayers

Despite the people who have told me that there are more stars than I can count

More people than I can imagine

And more area on this earth than I can cover

And that, in the grand scheme of things, I do not matter

I am thankful that I do matter

I am thankful that my heart, though beaten and bruised, is full of love

I am thankful that my mind, though sometimes dark and ill, is full of wisdom and hope

I am thankful that I am here

And that I am not alone