Life is too short not to be who you are. It’s a pity many of us don’t learn that till we’re older.
I have two acquaintances, both gay who won’t come out of the closet. One, in his 60s can’t because of his parents, living a life of such misery trying to be someone he’s not, while they still think there’s hope for grandchildren.
The other guy has no one to be nervous about, but sadly, can’t look at himself in the mirror, so we all collude pretending along with him.
I’ve grown fond of a friend’s mother tooling through her 80s who suffers from mascular degeneration, limiting her actions not being able to see, but that didn’t stop her from buying a new bed, getting her hair done every week and dressing up like a movie star, to celebrate with her family. I so wish I knew her when she was younger because, what a force of nature, always being exactly who she is not allowing age to change her in any way.
Then there’s me, an adult child of alcoholics emotionally scarred, but with the balls of a gladiator. I often think I could have done more in my life if I wasn’t so busy just surviving, but it’s who I am, for better or worse…kind, generous, overly sensitive, forgetting where I put my glasses, but determined to do my best despite all obstacles.
You know why?
Because life is just too short not to be who you are.