Spurred on by my mother, I left home at the age of seventeen. It was the right thing for all involved, but when my parents replaced me with two cats, I couldn’t help but feel slighted: I’m deadly allergic to cats.
When my mother-in-law spiked a meal with milk, hoping to prove that food allergies aren’t a real thing, I graciously accepted her apology while suffering for days afterwards.
People’s choices don’t always reflect my needs. I get that. So when a good friend decided not to get vaccinated, I honoured her decision. And when the virus took off, becoming more of a threat, I suggested we keep our distance.
But this recent uprising has struck me hard. I thought that what set Canadians apart was our care and concern of one another. We’ve been in this together all along, after all. Now healthcare providers are enemies, democracy oppressive, and the vulnerable are ignored.
“You’re taking it too personally,” my husband advises.