This unkindness creates a particular kind of vulnerability. It makes the recipient ashamed, coercing us to be participants in our own torment. Somehow the world convinces us that its unkindness is the cost of admission for sharing space with the attractive—and we believe it. We don’t just believe it, we welcome it, but in degrees. Not usually with a grin and wink—though sometimes we do—but mostly with a scowl, sometimes a foul word, sometimes an attitude, or even a few tears. But there is a small part of us that also feels alive and seen and grateful for that barely there acknowledgment. The
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