Thanks For The Insult, But You Don't Know Me

However, It Made Me Think

Recently I wrote a story which I thought was light-hearted and a bit of fun. Someone saw it very differently.

It made me reflect, so I thanked the gentleman for their comment.

My initial reaction was to laugh and dismiss it as someone who enjoyed insulting, with scant regard for the story and fun sentiment I was trying to convey.

The story was a bit of a jibe at myself for indulging in sugary lollies during a flight and how I regretted it. A flippant bit of a laugh at myself. You can read the story with my link at the bottom.

Here is the comment. I removed the name out of respect.

The only words that stuck out right at me were 'privileged brat'.

I laughed. A lot. And moved on.

Then I reflected.

Definition: Brat

a child, typically one that is badly behaved.

Definition: Privileged

having special rights, advantages, or immunities.

Given that I'm not a child, I don't identify with being a brat. Indeed, I was not a perfect child, but I was well brought up. With good values and morals. My parents were hard-working, and my dad was from a large family of farm labourers and miners, a hard childhood in poverty. He went to college, elevated himself, and eventually became a university lecturer. My mum was a teacher, grafted for 45 years in education, giving so much to her students, leaving me frequently jealous and lacking her attention.

This leads nicely into privileged. My parents worked hard to give my sister and me a decent upbringing. I wore hand-me-down, homemade clothes, we holidayed at home, travelled around Europe in a combi van all summer, and lived like wild children. It was the 70's! We regularly gave a home to overseas students that helped widen our horizons whilst we enriched their lives in return.

The word privilege is a strong one banded around far too loosely these days, so I sat and thought. Am I privileged?

Yes, I am in many ways, but it is due to the hard work of my parents that allowed me to get a good education. I chose not to go to college or university, hungry for an independent life, I married young, and I climbed the career ladder through my own skills, determination and ambition. I've had a lot of hard knocks along the way. Does that make me privileged?

The story is about being on a flight, on a work trip, yes, free, I did not pay for it. I moaned about not having the usual snacks and having to sit in an aisle seat when I preferred the window.

I can see how out of context, that might look like I'm a spoilt brat (I still struggle with privileged)

I can also argue that I had been away from home for two days carrying out business for my employer, a job I strived hard to get after being let go from my last three positions in the previous four years. I'd had long days, meetings, and driving, and I was tired. My employer has a duty of care to ensure I get home comfortably and safely.

I thanked him for the comment and clapped him for taking the time to read and respond.

I don’t mind the feedback, but he could have expressed it with less anger. I can feel the words being spat from his mouth, derisory, disrespectful, in my face.

Most importantly, I have learned from this. While thinking how funny and clever my story was, I should have read it through another's eyes, with a thought for my audience and their perspectives. I am only guilty of being unthinking.

For that, I thank him.

Please feel free to give your opinion, but please treat me how you like to be treated yourself.

Read the story (and the comment) here: