“Good luck to you,” she whispered in my ear as she pecked the air next to my cheek and walked away.
My brain told me to say “thank you” – that’s how I’ve been brought up – but I was caught off guard and cognition was limited.
But she is right. Good luck to me indeed.
In a world where I have to convince, argue and force people all the time to let me keep doing the things I am doing or let me do the things I want to do, I need all the luck I can get.
Don’t get me wrong: I am not oppressed or suppressed. I enjoy almost a first-world like lifestyle despite being a speck in my third-world country’s population. But I definitely live in a place where even a broader mind does not let go of (their own definition of) traditions, social structures and the its-always-done-this-ways. And people like me will always want to travel in two different boats at the same time.
It will always be done this way. Good luck to me indeed.