I wrote so much on my homeless journey, but even with the 100+ handwritten pages, I feel like I just scratched the surface of simply understanding the difficulties of it. I don’t have a clue what it’s like to really be homeless, yet learned enough to know it’s horrific.
Every homeless person I’ve met or talked to has a different story, yet most of our working class sees homelessness as a place they’ll never be. ‘Those people’ have addictions, they’re lazy or have some other type of dysfunction. No matter what their situation, they’re prejudged by many as being a drain on our society.
When asking for assistance, I never said I was homeless because (a) I didn’t know what would happen and (b) it’s somewhat embarrassing. In suburbia, to look homeless is to not look homeless. I looked and dressed like I always do, yet I didn’t have access to the same hygiene routines. Continue reading