“I used to hate rich people. I carried a huge chip on my shoulder for decades. It started when I was 7 years old and we moved from a small, rural town in northwest Wisconsin to a wealthy suburb in southwest Michigan. These kids belonged to country clubs. We belonged to the Elk’s Club. The girls wore monogrammed sweaters. I taped the holes in my uniform with masking tape.”
This post has a great lesson about judging people. It reminds me of coming out of a lengthy depression, realizing for the first time that many of the people I knew – and judged – were actually kind and well-meaning.
Read the post in full at Depression on My Mind.