My friends, family, and the real-deal peeps in and around my life know who I am and that they can count on me. How?
To show up.
To work smarter and harder when needed.
To be loving, trusting, helpful, considerate, etc., all with a hefty pour of humour that often goes too far. I love to laugh, especially at myself. Can’t stop. Won’t stop.
I don’t need to convince anyone that I am a solid human being, complete with a multi-tab brain and a soft center. But let’s be real: invisible laser-cut daggers protect that soft center that, when tested, appears like a nightmare in your deepest slumber.
I’ve long since purchased a one-way ticket to the low road. Scratch that. I’m not even driving. I’m on the express train. Sipping a little something and scrolling my music collection for “Petty but Peaceful” playlists. Because taking the high road, being the bigger person, that’s a scam that only benefits the other rude, bold, and brazen person. At this ‘Big Age’, I’ve had enough experiences to last several lifetimes. And while my ‘character-building’ is nowhere near perfect, it is now complete.
I’m not talking about being unkind, personally, I hate that. But my belief in karma is as resolute as a toddler insisting on tying their own shoes when it’s evident they cannot.
I still fight with wanting to believe in common sense. But if someone is hell-bent on two plus two being ten, then I am A-okay with their delusion.
I’ll choose peace, a well-timed eyebrow raise, and a hand over my mouth if needed to get me through. I’m just saying.
So yeah, I’m still helpful. Still hopeful. Still showing up for the right people.
I’ll survive and thrive without some ‘Medal of Moral Superiority.’ Heck, I don’t want a participation trophy. I already know who I am and I love continually growing and shaping myself into a better me.
