Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

You have the right to refuse service to me. I have the right to ask you why.

Good morning everyone. The struggle is waging war on me right now and I am struggling to write. I struggle to go out into the world most days. I was refused service again yesterday and for some reason, it really hurt me. I am used to being treated like a piece of fucking trash and yet I am shocked every single time. I cannot wrap around the hate and the intolerance…the anger and the rage that must have to build up in someone to treat another human being as I am treated. I cannot grasp the slurs and the words hurled around and at me, as they fly by at lightening speed almost taking my head off and piercing and ripping through my heart.

Yesterday, I was shaking so badly inside that I looked down and I was actually shaking on the outside. My knees buckled and I told the tears to stay the fuck down until we could leave this place. This place…and so many others like it…refuse to actually refuse me service…they just won’t help me. They won’t sell me anything or buy anything from me. They pass me off to others. They talk in a small boiling roll under their breath and snicker as I walk by.

Yesterday I was somehow blindsided again by the mother fucking ignorance that has somehow invaded my entire life. Somehow, even though it comes so often, yesterday, I just didn’t see it coming and when it hit me unsuspectingly, at first it almost dropped me. And then…it ignited me and set me on fucking fire. That flame burned steady and held strong and true. As he screamed at me and said he could not help me for the seventh or eight time, without telling me why that was, shaking almost into convulsions, I had a choice. I chose to leave that place and to come back later…after I calmed down and had a good pause…with some friends and possibly some media coverage so we could ask this man together, why he wouldn’t serve me.

As I told him…you’ve a right to refuse service in your business, as do I. As a person constantly refused service, refused assistance and treated less than the shit on the bottom of your shoes, I will tell you this…If you refuse to serve me, henceforth, I’m going to ask you why. I am going to ask you why in front of all of your patrons. I am going to ask you why in a pitch that matches yours, so that we can both be heard.

This morning though…with crushing chest pain and tears welling up in my throat, I need a moment to regroup and to turn this around. My friend Eileen helped me with her words last night. Thank you Eileen. This morning, for each of us who has ever even once been treated this way, I take and ask for a moment of silence.

I ask that we join hands and that we stand up for one another when something so egregious occurs. Is it kind? Is it necessary? Is it honest? If it doesn’t pass through these three doors…here is my unsolicited advice…Don’t fucking say it at all. We must be the change…for ourselves and for each other. Hate hurts.

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