Broken and Beautiful

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In the past few months, I feel that people cannot really relate to me and to what I do. Fair enough. Most of you get to stay in your homes and be quarantined. I still go out of the house and live my life like before.

I had a conversation with my boss following an incident where I had been deemed difficult to work with. I am not upset that people thinks that way. I do respect others' opinions. What I am upset and frustrated about was that, they were discussing me. I could still say that the conversation we had had been a pleasant one. I had had nasty ones in the past which even made me resent the people themselves. Moving on, all these experiences created me now and, I love who and what I have become.

I will never say that I am perfect or flawless. But, I came to accept and love the person that I am now. I am not as beautiful as I hoped I would be. I am not as good as I expected me to be. I am not as well mannered as I wanted me to be. But I am who I am. I rejoice and celebrate that.

No one told me that when you get old, you start to love you more than you love others. The flaws I thought were detrimental to be accepted in a group simply becomes trivial things now. I do not feel the need to do extraordinary things to be accepted today. In fact, the only thing that I bring in the table is respect, compassion and communication.

I stopped expecting people to look and turn out the way I wanted them to. I even ceased to believe that everything that I do will go as planned. For me, everyone had been broken but still beautiful in their own special way. I accept and rejoice on that- just as I celebrate and love those bits and pieces of me that had been countlessly broken and mended.