God's blessed me with a serious serving of Empathy. Maybe it developed from my compounded minority status: African, Female, American. I'm quite sure it has a lot to do with my being on the receiving end of teasing, and less than honorable treatment from other human beings. No need to pity, though compassion would be nice. The Western myth of perfection has constantly eluded me. Until my desire gave way to an understanding that there is perfection in our individuality. Our differences are what make us beautiful. So when I look at people, especially the rejects (myself included), those that do not fit the ubiquitous paradigm of beauty, I smile and hope that they know how special they are. Corny right? I know. But for years I felt that I was weird, not very cute, clumsy and down right awkward. I struggled with my self image. Not feeling skinny enough, having acne, you name it, I felt it. And now when I look back at the pictures I used to despise I realize how perfect I was and am, and glory in my "imperfections". I'm not so critical of the superficial qualities. I love that my ears stand out from my head, my overbite, and my sometimes alligator like skin (thanks dad :). They don't make me who I am but they are distinguishing features. I guess what I want to say is that I desire to help others feel the way I do. I know I have yet to fully attain. And everyday I'm bombarded with images that tell me who I am and what I look like aren't good enough. That I'll never find a man if I don't shave my legs or armpits. I beg to differ. I digress.
While I'm aerating the embers that burn within I want to learn to serve others in their apprehension of Love.
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