There’s a kind of quiet humiliation that happens when someone criticizes you from a position of comfort they don’t acknowledge. It doesn’t have to be dramatic. Sometimes, it’s as small and mundane as lunch. One person has a sad, dry sandwich slapped together with whatever was left in the fridge. The other has a thick, toasted masterpiece layered with meat, greens, sauce, and yes — cheese. Then, the person with the good sandwich passes judgment.

Don’t insult me when my sad sandwich didn’t even have cheese and yours did. That cheese matters. It symbolizes something. Maybe it’s a better pantry. Maybe it’s more time, more energy, or more support. Maybe it’s just luck. Whatever the case, it’s an advantage that changes the experience entirely. Pretending the sandwiches are equal is dishonest. Critiquing mine without acknowledging the difference is cruel.

This is about more than food. It’s about context. It’s about the tendency people have to overlook the role that advantages play in outcomes. The person who had a head start often forgets the head start. They think their comfort is deserved and your struggle is a result of poor choices. They see your sandwich as lazy without seeing the bare shelf you built it from.

This kind of thinking shows up everywhere. In work, when someone with connections and a safety net mocks someone juggling three jobs. In education, when a student with private tutoring sneers at someone who failed without help. In life, when someone born with stability lectures someone raised in chaos about discipline. They forget the cheese.

The deeper issue is not envy. It’s erasure. When someone judges without context, they erase the effort, the lack of resources, the different circumstances that shape outcomes. That erasure is an insult. It takes your struggle and reframes it as failure. It takes your effort and renders it invisible.

Respect begins with recognition. You don’t have to pity someone to treat them fairly. But you do have to notice the difference between your sandwich and theirs before you speak. You do have to acknowledge that it’s easier to be full when your food came seasoned and stacked. That before you call someone’s choices bad, you might want to look at what they had to choose from.

So if your sandwich had cheese — be grateful. And if someone else’s didn’t, don’t insult it. Don’t pretend it’s the same. Don’t forget what you had. Because in the end, the gap between sandwiches may be the difference between judgment and compassion. And in that gap, decency either lives or dies.