I must learn to love the fool in me – the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.
-- Theodore Isaac Rubin

Looking in the mirror and seeing that fine specimen you are is easy to do when your hair is in place, your face is flawless, and your clothes are stylish. It’s easy to blink at that beautiful vision in the mirror when all your bills are paid and there’s still money left over, your health is stellar, you’re well loved, and you’ve conquered that big problem at work and you’re well on your way to a big promotion. But what about the days when you’re not a shining star, the days when your booty does stink? Is the picture in the mirror just as pretty?

So you’re loud. Even your own eardrums pound from the pressure of your voice. Maybe you live inside your head too much, or maybe you share every thought that comes into your head, whether anyone wants to know them or not.

Maybe you fall in love too quickly or love too hard. Maybe you don’t trust yourself enough to open up to love, let alone another human being. Maybe you can love them and leave them, or perhaps you thrive on possessing a lover. Maybe all you really want is someone to take out the trash and keep the yard cut and landscaped. Maybe you’re looking for a love to sink the teeth of your life into.

Maybe you cry a lot, at little things and big, in public and in private. Maybe when you cry, you are a sniveling idiot and nothing calms you until you’ve gotten it all out. Or maybe the last time you shed a tear, you recall being rocked, fed, burped, and changed into a fresh diaper.

Maybe you’re not a card sender though you do think of others often. Maybe you don’t call or return calls or emails as often as others wish you would. Maybe you call and wish others well, even when you don’t know them. Maybe you’re a social genius and everyone else is just lame.

Could be you don’t like people, Christmas, chocolate, or sex. Maybe all you want to do is be around others, eat chocolate, and have sex like every day is Christmas. Perhaps you thrive by your feelings. Or maybe you operate on logic and fact and believe anyone who doesn’t is destined to a life of impracticality and foolishness. Maybe you lie, steal, cheat, overeat, and overspend – usually all in one day. Maybe you’re too honest and have a tendency toward anorexia and Christmas and chocolate turn your stomach more than anything in this world or the next.

Maybe you’re a hoarder or a minimalist; a spender or a saver; artistic or somewhat bland. The truth of the matter is whoever you are, you are who you are and you may as well sit down and get comfortable with that. All of your illogical, reckless, and brainless idiosyncrasies are minced with your sensible and clever habits and together they make you who you are. Perhaps you are made up of extremes, there’s nothing middle ground about you. Maybe you lean more toward this maximum than that one. Or, perhaps you want to refine a trait or diminish one or two so they don’t overshadow the qualities you most admire. But, you are who you are. Accept that.

Others probably have.

Sadiqqa © 2007