fuzzypeach
Member
- Jan 26, 2026
- 62
i feel so stupid for trusting people just because they speak the right political language. i really thought that if a space said it centered immigrants, refugees, and safety, then someone like me would actually be protected there. instead, i learned the hard way that intentions and slogans don't mean accountability.
i was physically intimidated by someone in a leadership role and somehow that turned into me being removed, isolated, and treated like the problem. i didn't ask for punishment. i didn't ask for anyone to be suspended. i asked to feel safe. and that was apparently too much.
i keep being told about intent when i'm the one living with the impact.
it's exhausting how often marginalized people are asked to be patient, quiet, and understanding while leadership protects itself. i watched them bend over backwards to avoid accountability, even while saying all the right things about care and justice. the contradiction is unreal.
they talk about immigrants as if we're always somewhere else. sacred. abstract. suffering quietly offstage. but when one of us is right there, speaking up, needing protection, suddenly it's inconvenient. suddenly we're disruptive. suddenly we're a liability.
what makes this hurt even more is that the space i was removed from was not just social or symbolic. it was sometimes the only place i ate a hot meal all week. losing access to that on top of everything else feels cruel in a way i'm still trying to process.
i wanted to give grace. i wanted to believe good people doing good work would listen. instead, my access to community was taken away piece by piece, and i was left alone with it. that kind of isolation hurts more than they seem to understand.
i was doing so good but now i feel like this put a huge strain on my recovery.
i was physically intimidated by someone in a leadership role and somehow that turned into me being removed, isolated, and treated like the problem. i didn't ask for punishment. i didn't ask for anyone to be suspended. i asked to feel safe. and that was apparently too much.
i keep being told about intent when i'm the one living with the impact.
it's exhausting how often marginalized people are asked to be patient, quiet, and understanding while leadership protects itself. i watched them bend over backwards to avoid accountability, even while saying all the right things about care and justice. the contradiction is unreal.
they talk about immigrants as if we're always somewhere else. sacred. abstract. suffering quietly offstage. but when one of us is right there, speaking up, needing protection, suddenly it's inconvenient. suddenly we're disruptive. suddenly we're a liability.
what makes this hurt even more is that the space i was removed from was not just social or symbolic. it was sometimes the only place i ate a hot meal all week. losing access to that on top of everything else feels cruel in a way i'm still trying to process.
i wanted to give grace. i wanted to believe good people doing good work would listen. instead, my access to community was taken away piece by piece, and i was left alone with it. that kind of isolation hurts more than they seem to understand.
i was doing so good but now i feel like this put a huge strain on my recovery.
