Insecurity … my my security blanket.
I was surrounded everyday by people that seemed to have fallen out of the beautiful tree and hit every branch on the way down. While they were hitting these beautiful branches, they decided to break every single branch taking them with them as they landed softly on a pillow lined ground, so that us mer mortals wouldn’t even get to feel the gentle brush of a single leaf on our skin. So my teenage self sat back and watched people talk about how amazing everyone else was. I sat with my acne covered face, too large for my face nose and hair too wild to manage, and listened. No one ever chimed in on the radio talking about me. (It’s didn’t help being a lesbian and every single person I was in love with was in no way shape of form in love with me, but I digress.) I never quite enjoyed looking at photos of myself. I always found myself to be moderately appealing at best. This feeling followed me for 23 years.
None of that matters now. While I may still have a firm grip on insecurity the warm security blanket, I now have someone to rip it off of me and show me how much I don’t need it. I may not be the definition of the most beautiful person in the world (that’s goes to my wife in my opinion) but I know that I am not ugly. I didn’t fall down the ugly tree, I fell down the normal peoples tree and hit the kick ass branches on the way down, and landed in awesome sauce. Looks are not important anymore, I’m too in love to care I guess.
*pic is the wife and I at time square. I’m wearing the awesome glasses and bacon shirt