My parents and teachers attached a moral judgement to boredom. These past months have helped me shake it off
The boredom of childhood was nothing like adulthood’s. Back then, boredom was simply a matter of physical space: stuck at home with nothing to do, or at the hairdresser’s waiting for Mum. If I complained, she would offer me a mop. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of being bored,” she would say.
Soon, I realised boredom was more about mental space. I filled my mind with books, films and...
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