Member-only story
Discomforting privilege and a warm welcome to Mexico
I lived in poverty or scraped by barely making it from paycheck to paycheck for most of my adult life. I lost everything multiple times and had to rebuild. For years, my daughter thought we ate rice and beans almost daily because it was part of her cultura. She didn’t know until years later that it was all we could afford. In Seattle, I worked hard to make ends meet. I did ok and was relieved that when the bills came, I could actually pay them. My family’s lifestyle was incredibly modest; all our furniture was second hand as were the majority of our clothes. Our house needed many repairs, but it was home, and I loved it.
As a single mom, I felt extremely fortunate that I was able to buy a house in one of the most expensive cities in the US. Every day, I passed by people struggling with homelessness and living in tent cities. I also knew that if I lost my job and didn’t find another within a few weeks, we could very quickly end up on the streets too. There was no nest egg, wealthy family members, or trust fund to turn to in time of need.
Luckily the housing market in Seattle is absurd, and for once in my life, I was at the right place at the right time. Selling the house gave us options beyond my wildest dreams, and as soon as we crossed into Mexico, our privileged position loudly screamed. After years of struggling just to get…
