Morgan slumped into the back corner of the campus café, where the hum of chatter and the burnt espresso smell filled the air. She squeezed into the booth, tugging her hoodie to hide the stomach she’d spent the morning avoiding in the mirror.

            The faint glow of her laptop reflected her tired eyes as she opened a blank Word document titled Critical Perspectives in Cultural Studies. The assignment was due in three days—a personal reflection on how identity shapes one’s experience within the structures of capitalism. But Morgan couldn’t bring herself to start. The pressure weighed on her, pulling her deeper into her seat.

            It wasn’t just the essay—it was everything: The constant feeling of not fitting in, being trans in a world that tried to fit people into boxes, being fat in a culture obsessed with thinness, being a person of color at a predominantly white university. Behind it all, capitalism, systemic racism, and patriarchy ground away at any self-worth she could muster.

            Morgan sipped her iced mocha—extra whipped cream, because why not?—and stared at the blank page. The thoughts swirled in her head, but every time she tried to write them down, the words slipped away.

            “Hey,” a voice interrupted.

            It was Sam from gender studies, sliding into the seat across from her. Sam was thin, white, and had the kind of privilege Morgan could never stop thinking about. Sam’s allyship was appreciated, though it sometimes felt performative.

            “Hey,” Morgan muttered, pulling her laptop closer.

            “How’s the essay coming along?” Sam asked.

            Morgan sighed, closing her laptop halfway. “It’s not. I mean, it’s hard to explain. I feel like… everything’s so much. Like, I can’t even think about my own body without thinking about the systems that made it this way.”

            Sam tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

            Morgan’s frustration bubbled up. “I mean, how can I talk about capitalism and identity when my whole existence is shaped by it? I’m fat because capitalism pushes cheap, processed food. Systemic racism means I’m stressed all the time, and that stress makes me eat more. Then, patriarchy says I need to be thin to be attractive but masculine to be accepted. It’s a trap. And I can’t win.”

            Sam nodded. “Yeah, that’s intense. But… Do you have a job?”
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