Monday, February 10, 2014

Same Difference

People are always telling me, "You should write a book." Truth is, I would love to! And, I promise, I wouldn't make dangling prepositions a habit. But, as eventful as my life is, as much as God has done for me, as unique as I think the people in my life are, as much as I love each day that is given to me and I try to do with it what I should, I'm not sure I have the "IT." You know, the IT that it takes to make a book appealing, or kitschy, or worth reading beginning to end!

In my teens and twenties, and probably well into my thirties, I used to think I was some kind of freak, a geeky sort of anomaly. I dressed in costume -- some quite ridiculous -- because whatever was in fashion served only to remind me that I was not in fashion -- why try? My moods, my weight, my interests and my relationships were as volatile as weather; I could never quite seem to be everything others wanted me to be.

But now, as I near the end of my forties, I realize I didn't really know what others expected, and I didn't have to be that anyway. I am beginning to know myself, and I am not so different from everyone else. Or maybe, it's that I have come to realize that everyone else is not so different from me:

We are all insecure on our own. 
We all just want to be happy and enjoy the eighty years or so that we spend on earth. 
We all have issues. 
We are all slaves to something, and take ownership of others. 
We all want to change something.
We all have things we need to do, and don't.
We all have things we shouldn't do, and do.

So, what could I say that hasn't already been said? 
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