Their Happiness Hurt My Feelings
18th May 2020
Regarding microaggressions, readers may be inclined to wonder if there’s an equally modish word for the low-level hostility of inflicting one’s own competitively hypersensitive psychodrama on others, like some prodnose nightmare, and all while expecting applause. It seems to me the above is a strange and self-destructive attitude to cultivate, a kind of psychological poison – as so many things are in the world of the woke. As a stroppy gay teenager, which would presumably have counted as one of those “minoritized social identities,” I don’t recall seething at the sight of other people’s wedding photos, or being in any way hurt by them, or expecting the owners of such photos to hide them in my presence, as if they weren’t actually married. That would have been… weird.