LET'S GET NAKED!!!
I think many of us try to overshadow the past with our present. There are quite a few things that I would personally like to forget ever happened....like that time I worked in the Freezer Department at---well, never mind. And there was this one time I created AND colored a NIKE sign on what was clearly a generic canvas style shoe. You couldn't tell it wasn't the real thing, unless you stood really close. I don't know what made me think I could fool my high school peers with a penciled NIKE sign..no fabric, no texture--JUST INK. Of course it took them no time at all to realize that my shoes were fraudulent; they immediately renamed my sneakers, MIKIE's. Can you imagine how embarrassed I was to sit at school for the remainder of the day while kids so boldly asked "Vette, where'd you get those MIKIE's?" all while discombobulating with laughter? Uncomfortable to live it, but funny to reflect upon it. My point is this: None of us have been so fortunate to have never made a mistake... made a horrible decision, or even made a fool of ourselves. That is the equality of life; none of us are exempt from those moments. I have been in horrible relationships, as well as played my part in ruining relationships. I have dealt with low self-esteem and depression. Here's the good part: because I am free from my past and am not a prisoner to secrets, I can comfortably open a window to my old hurt and even stupidity, when the time comes to help someone else. I can tell a young lady not to deal with a married man, because I have, and can easily tell you how it will probably end. I can tell a young lady, to train her eyes to see beauty when she sees her reflection in the mirror, because I too, had to train myself. I can tell that same young lady, that there is life, AFTER rape, because I am living it. Once you are free from a thing, you will hear the sound of freedom in the words you speak, even in the tone you use. I can speak of my flaws, ONLY because I've accepted them. I used to cry because I thought my feet looked like a science experiment gone wrong. Now, don't get me wrong, my feet still look like they belong on Gargamel, but I refuse to wear boots to a picnic, or socks with opened-toe shoes out of fear of what others may think. MY TOES NEED TO BREATHE TOO! I refuse to be hemmed up in fear, trying to live up to the expectation of others. I refuse to fabricate my life and my journey, in efforts to appear perfect. I am naked and flawed. I am unashamed of anything that I have experienced. And I refuse to obstruct my bowels, because so many others have freedom tied up in my belly, yet I say nothing. I dare not play a part in the death of so many, because I am more concerned with looking perfect, than living real. I will gladly show you what imperfect is, what broken looks like after pieces have been glued back together, because I'm okay with me.