Activism: it’s a special kind of Masochism

If you’d asked me a year ago what I was passionate about, I would have said gaming, my husband, and animal rescue.  I’ve always had a little bit of an activist inside myself.  But then something happened.  I started looking around.  I have friends who are in various minority groups, and I started to see my Married White Cisgendered Female Middle class privilege.
Now, I don’t feel guilty about my privilege.  It’s not my fault, and there’s nothing I could really do to remove it as a factor.  I get to go through life in relative easy mode.  But I have so many friends who don’t.  There’s so much out there that I didn’t see before.  Not because I wasn’t looking, but because somethings are very hard to see.
So now I’ve taken on causes not my own.  For all my Trans* friends who don’t have the same rights.  For my gay/lesbian/bi friends who can’t marry members of their own gender.  For my friends of multiple ethnicities.  These things are not directed at me, but they are my problems.  They are mine because I can see them, touch them, and the people I love have to live with them.
There are some problems that I see in my life.  Just because I have it easier than some of my girl friends who weren’t always labeled girls, or who can’t pass for white, doesn’t mean that there isn’t a lot out there for me to fight against for me.  Rape culture is a thing, and it’s a thing that affects me.  It’s hard to say it doesn’t when I ride public transportation.  I haven’t had any of the really bad experiences you hear about, but I do feel objectified a LOT on Metro.
All these things mean that when someone pulls my activist strings, they usually get more than they bargained for.  And I do try so very hard not to jump down people’s throats, but these are my passions.  They are varied, but none is less important to me than another.
And I still think you should spay and neuter your cats, and adopt as many as you can.  I always will.