Pgh Lesbian Correspondents

I regularly rely on a food pantry.

Of course, I’m researching a blog post to destigmatize food insecurity resources. Because that’s what I do.

I talk about it openly with my circle of friends. I felt no shame or guilt about it. I meet the criteria of the pantry.

No shame until today. Today, someone not in my circle of trust asked me where I got my butter lettuce. And I froze, unexpectedly.

It wasn’t shame or guilt, really. It was the vulnerability. There’s a person in my life painting a picture of me as a scam artist because, well, they know it’s a weak spot.

My therapists tell me I wouldn’t be repeatedly discussing this if I was running cons. Questioning myself proves I have a conscience. Probably spilling here how much it bothers me is not tactically wise, but that’s what I do. Overshare for the common good.

The Shame of Food Insecurity – Nope

I am food insecure.

The pantry prevents me from being hungry or malnourished. That’s the goal – safety net. It doesn’t provide 3 squares each week. It supplements what I do have. Mostly, it is fruit, veg, and bread. Occasionally, they have some prepared meals. And, of course, butter lettuce.

I’m saving money for multiple lawsuits. I’m worried my bills will increase. Two years ago, I was solidly in the middle class. My income was SSDI, but our family income was more. For the previous 20 years, I knew – the only time in my life – life where the utilities never came close to being turned off, food was always in the house.

I did not take it for granted, mainly because I spent the prior 35 years constantly insecure. And relentlessly on high alert for vulnerabilities. My first year of college was the first time I  had decent food every day without fail. That didn’t sink in until much later. Actually, I was telling my therapist how my father laid the “Freshman Fifteen” criticism on me after spring break and how angry I. Then it dawned on me. Sigh.

I need to think about how to take care of myself in the future so I can once again have the luxury of that economic security even on a different level.

The Shame of Food Pantries – Nope

Now, I’m struggling with my entire life turning upside down. I was homeless for six months. I’m in a legal in-between where I can’t apply for many supports. I have to crowdfund my legal cases. There is literally no end in sight because of appeals. So I can’t plan ahead.

For a few months, a friend supplemented my food security with weekly meals. But that ended. It wasn’t their responsibility to feed me forever. It is my responsibility. Asking for help to meet your basic needs isn’t undignified and it is not unethical. This isn’t a Dickens novel.

So the food pantry it is. I plan to visit a few. Like me, I suspect a lot of folx can use a boost or supplement. Not total dependency. I plan to explore that in a future post. Right now I just need to reassure myself that asking for and accepting help is necessary to function.

A new friend has been kindly delivering the food pantry items to me each week (or driving me directly.) Other friends take me out for lunch or dinner. Some send me UberEats or GrubHub cards. Or food.

I think back to the question about my butter lettuce. If I had lied or got my back up about it, if I treated the simple truth like a sin, I wouldn’t feel any better. So why not just be honest even if it leaves me open to being maligned?

When you grow up in poverty, it teaches you poverty skills, but it also denies you the capacity to trust – trust there will be food, the light bill is paid, there will not be a repossession this month. That fear never dissipates, the result of the highs and lows of economic uncertainty. Growing up with parents coping with addiction and poorly treated mental illness creates a feast or famine economic cycle that takes a toll.

There was very little help for me as a kid. Now things are different. I can find a balance between my self-survival poverty skills and relying on supports.

The Shame of Being Disabled – Nope

Another big change for me was leveraging my capacity to help lots of people access items they needed, the sharing economy. When I became fully disabled in 2010, I kicked into high gear on that to assuage my feelings around being disabled. I collected tens of thousands of tote bags, food items, clothing items, gift cards, face masks, yard signs, stickers, and pet supplies. Oh, and toys, books, etc.

Now I realize I was overcompensating for being disabled. I had internalized all that “work hard to be considered valuable” stuff and just spewed it into my literal home, my car, my backyard, my friend’s cars and homes and backyards, etc. I have gained a tremendous new appreciation for the sharing economy, but also for having a space (shed) to store things. And a new appreciation for setting boundaries because I don’t HAVE to do these things to be a good person or to deserve help or contribute.

My zeal to be the helper had a toll on my relationship, my friendships, and even my pets. When I started listening and finding solutions – starting a nonprofit, setting up patio bins and sheds for storage outside of the living spaces, spending regular quality time with the humans and critters who are important to me – I found more balance and that was better for me.

Survival is not shameful

After drafting this post, I went back to the person who asked me about the butter lettuce to ask directly if my situation changed the way they looked at me. We talked for a few minutes about our experiences with shame and they assured me they just liked the lettuce. I am choosing to take them at their word because their opinion doesn’t change my food security.

I deserve supports. I also deserve dignity. As do you. So listen to your inner voice, even critical, and try to get to the bottom of the issues being raised. Seek support to work on negative feelings like shame and guilt if they are hurting your quality of life. Ask people directly rather than assume why they asked you a question that hits a trigger – this is very hard and not something I would have done a few years ago.

We have created a society steeped in outdated understandings of charity. We train people to beat their breasts, pouring out all of their most intimate information, even to exaggerate to prove to us they need/deserve help. It is like kicking the puppies and rewarding the one that squeals the loudest. That shame is on us.

On NextDoor dot com today, yet another thread popped up where someone was complaining about ‘all of the requests for help” filling up his feed. No one said “wow, so many people are struggling, how can I help?” No one said “The President you elected is taking us to a private charity relief model” and no one said “stfu you petty little human being who has no actual insight into these folx lives.”

It is important for you to know that I hear you and I appreciate how hard it is to ask for help. I believe that you deserve help, there’s no need to embellish for me. But I get why you might feel pressure to do so.

Most important – know that the volunteers at your local food pantry know what you are going through. They volunteer to help, to support you. They aren’t judging you, like the rude folks looking in your shopping buggy, they are trying to make the process dignified while balancing some practical realities.

And maybe don’t assume that each person talking with you about these things is judging you. But don’t assume they aren’t. Decide how you want to feel about it.

Conclusion

Hard pass on the shame, thank you. Maybe hard work to really let it go, but I don’t want my next chapter defined by that pain.

Yesterday, I ate meals made up of foods I had purchased, items from the previous pantry week, and gifts from a friend. No shame sprinkled in. It was all delicious.

Epilogue

Sometimes lettuce go easy on ourselves. (See what I did there?)