Privilege & Purpose

Maybe it's the fever (I've been ill). Maybe it's the fear of backlash (if anyone actually reads anything I write). Or maybe it's that I always get stuck in my brain when I start…anything. Whatever it is, I've stared at this screen with my fingers hovering over the keyboard much longer than is socially acceptable. Now that my fingers are moving, let's talk about what's on my mind.

Privilege. It gets tossed around these days as a brutal attack on anyone we feel might have even the slightest advantage over us. Advantage over a group of people we call ourselves allies of. An enormous guilt trip and attempt to shame into submission.

Mirriam Webster: a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor

College fund - privileged

White - privileged

Employed - privileged

Homed - privileged

Food on the table - privileged

Neurotypical - privileged

But how far are we willing to go when it comes to our own privilege? How deep are we willing to look when we believe we fall into an un or underprivileged category? The truth is, and it's a hard one to swallow, if you're reading this, you're privileged. No matter your circumstances, your living situation, your ability to feed your family, if you're reading this… you are privileged. This is the unfun and uncomfortable part to write about or say out loud because it's often misconstrued as downplaying hardships, and that's not what I'm getting at.

The point is that nearly all of us are privileged in one way or another, IF we're willing to look at it in relation to those who have less or have it harder. I promise you, there is always someone. Many more someones than any of us can count.

So what do we do with that?

Because that's where it gets interesting, right? We can sit in the discomfort of recognizing our privilege—whatever form it takes—and let it paralyze us with guilt. Or we can let it shame us into silence because we're afraid of saying the wrong thing or not doing enough. But here's what I'm learning, slowly, while staring at this screen and trying to get my fever-brain to cooperate:

Recognizing privilege isn't supposed to stop us. It's supposed to wake us up.

It's not about grand gestures or performative allyship or posting the right thing at the right time so everyone knows we're one of the good ones. It's not about doing everything or fixing everything or even knowing what everything is. It's about doing something with whatever small advantage we have. Right now. Today.

You have a car, and someone needs a ride? That's something.

You have a couch, and someone needs a safe place to sleep? That's something.

You have ten dollars, and someone needs food? That's something.

You have reliable internet, and someone needs to fill out a job application? That's something.

You have energy today and someone is drowning? Showing up is something.

You have a smile—a genuine one—and someone is barely holding it together? That. Is. Something.

None of this diminishes real struggle. None of this erases systemic inequality or the very real barriers people face every single day. Your hardships are real. Your pain is valid. The things you've survived matter. But here's the thing we don't talk about enough. Or maybe it's talked about in that subtle, between-the-lines way I never quite catch. Maybe this is obvious to everyone else and I'm just now figuring it out because I need things said, not implied. Whatever. The point stands: multiple truths can exist at once. You can be struggling AND still have something to offer. You can be marginalized in one area and privileged in another. You can be hurting and still help someone who's hurting differently.

The purpose—if there is one—isn't to measure our privilege against someone else's or to compete in the trauma Olympics or to feel bad about what we have. The purpose is to notice. To look around. To ask ourselves, honestly, "What do I have today that someone else needs? What can I do, right now, with what I've got?"

Maybe it's something big. Maybe it's something so small it feels almost meaningless.

But I'm starting to think that the small things—the noticing, the showing up, the doing what we can with what we have—those aren't meaningless at all. They're actually the whole point.

They're what we do with our privilege, whatever it looks like. They're how we turn advantage into action. Immunity into impact. Benefit into something that actually benefits someone else.

And maybe, just maybe, that's enough. For now.

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About the Author
Gal is an autistic artist, late-diagnosed at 49, and the creator of AuRTistic Expressions—a space where neurodivergent truth meets creative survival. Through books, blog posts, printables, and coaching, Gal explores what it means to unmask safely, communicate authentically, and make art that doesn’t ask for permission. Stick around—there’s plenty more where this came from.

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Cover Photo by Михаил Секацкий on Unsplash