i was reading that this afternoon my lil’ sister’s xanga page and i admire her truthfulness and admit to my incurable comment about her cockiness. i think sometimes that i used to think the way she did when i was her age…maybe even more depressed than she is. My self-image was flaccid and even though tried to portray an impermeable skin, inside i was always analyzing myself- why i am the way i am, why i do the things i do, and why i think the way i think.
the truth about a living creation is that he/she is created specifically unique and one must accept who one is once one know who he/she is, but the beauty of living creation is the ability to change. Self-perception is a progression, and shouldn’t be confined or solidified. What i don’t like about certain people is that they stick too much on what depresses them, rather than change towards happiness. People complain about other people’s tendency to draw away from them, but don’t try to better their social attitude. I understand when people are depressed about themselves, and believe me, WE ALL GO THROUGH A PERIOD WHEN WE DON’T BELIEVE IN OURSELVES, but the fault lies in the person who is prideful enough not to change, but expects the world to just accept them as well as change for them.
Extinction is the only conclusion to the flower or plant that does not adapt to its surroundings. Even flowers learn their lesson that they need to grow taller to get sunlight. Even plants evolve because if they remained exactly the same from day one, they would be erased from existence, but their uniqueness is still conveyed by their accepted and appreciated colors and shape. We too need to be proud enough to respect what God gave us, but equally we need to be humble enough to admit our imperfect personalities. And sometimes, yes, in between are those moments of despondency and retreat back into our shell…but sorry is the man that stays in stagnation- complaining and shouting his woes.
i remember once, in my early teens, wondering why i wasn’t popular…why people liked certain people in the church and ignored a darkling like me…i played with my thoughts, and prayed with my pencil…i cried with the rain and blamed every circumstance. i was prudish and cocky, and thought i was better than the rest although no one knew it. but through the years, i learned what the sweetness of friendship can do, what a listening ear can accomplish, and what giving hands can build. I’ve learned that emitting fear through leadership only acquires fear from those following you, but love begets love from those who choose to follow you.
i admit my nastiness, and i readily admit to still having remnants of the old me, the me that bathes in self-pity AND pride…but i want to accomplish humility. i want to learn how to be taught, how to listen, how to cry with those who cry, and how to give without being given to. I still struggle with my self-perception as my little sister does, but i rest in knowing that at least i am showing myself the areas of renovation, and continuously change.
i hope though in light of all this, kristie will continue to really write honestly without restraint on how she feels…i accept her honesty as hopefully she can accept mine.