Skittles: not a vaild human

I never feel like I'm enough. Never black enough. Never poor enough. Never smart enough. Never disabled enough. Never depressed enough. Never gay enough. Never trans enough. Never non binary enough. Never bisexual enough. Never historically female enough. Never survivor enough. Never person of color enough. Never activist enough. I don't feel like I deserve to take up the space I occupy. I hate the words deserve, worthy, and entitled. It feels like the privilege that makes me uncomfortable. It feels like the white people black twitter makes fun of. It feels like the toxic masculinity that tells men they can't be sad so those feelings become violence.

There a lot of places where I don't feel like enough. This is demonstrated in my willingness to be treated like less than a person. In my bed. In my house. With my family. With my friends. On the bus. On the train. At a restaurant. Walking down the street. Riding a bike. Driving the car. Always in the presence of police. With other queer people I don't know. With other trans people I don't know. With other people of color I don't know. In spaces for people color. In spaces for people with disabilities. In spaces for trans people. At the gay bar. At pride. At the bus stop where I wrote this but also in general at bus stops. At work. At the beach. In the theater. At the store. At the doctor. At the pool. In the shower. In any gender specific bathroom. At the gas station. At school. In the library

The only time I feel like enough is on a plane. Which I think is weird. I never feel bad for fighting over the armrest. I always take over the outlet with my charger. My leg room is mine. It's got to be between 9:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m for me to tolerate the use of the overhead light. And this is never happened but I would say something if the person next to me was being too loud.

I don't know what makes me feel like a vaild human trapped in a pressurized metal machine 9,000m in the air. Maybe it's the fact that I can't disappear without someone noticing. Maybe it's because if I died someone would take note. Maybe it's because no passenger is more important than another, no matter what. Maybe it's because the expectations of me for the duration of the flight are minimal. Maybe it's because I don't have to be hyper aware. The ability to avoid danger is out of my control. Maybe it's the lack of control.

I would like it to be because I'm above the world and all of it's problems are below me. I wish it was something so poetic and profound. Years from now if I find out that they have been putting drugs in the air of planes to keep people under control and I will have my answer. But it is simply what it is. I never feel more human than when I'm flying. I never feel more alive then when I'm under water and can't breathe.