I’ve been thinking a lot lately.
I’ve been thinking about what I wrote about Iran. The aftermath of the feeling this country left me with; the generic, creeping unease, the constant discomfort that grew bigger and bigger on me, the way one small sexist remark, after a while, had the power to ruin my day. Not because the comment was necessarily super rude or intimidating, but just because it was one too many. Because having to deal with tiny insults and minor inconveniences every single day became tiring, and a burden.
I’ve been thinking about it because I never endured that feeling so strongly in my life. It was a new, very unsettling experience. I’ve been also thinking about it, because many of you have given very strong reactions to my story.