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Be Gentle With Yourself.

The title of this post references one of my favorite pieces of writing, The Desiderata.  No one can confirm or deny the author and date of publication, but I don’t think that I would have it differently regardless of those details.  

I have not heeded it’s simple words.  

I am not gentle with myself.  I am cruel, degrading and relentless in my mind to myself.   


True story:  I received a compliment from a retail worker.  (She claims that I always wear the cutest tops.). I was in a gourmet cupcake shoppe.  I smiled at her, thanked her, and then in the same tone of voice -calm, quiet, sweet, and said “I hate myself actually, mostly my body.  I shop for tops all of the time.  My arms are the worst.  So I try to only get 3/4 length sleeves… 

It took a few more moments of drivel before I noticed her again.  I had gone inside myself and starting pointing to various areas of imperfection; kind of like a flight attendant pointing out emergency exits.  

Back to reality.  She was still there and I was honestly surprised that she hadn’t moved on to another customer.  I didn’t say all of that to garner an unearned second compliment.  Which is good because I think she was too surprised with my response, she didn’t know what to say.  I smiled, lowered my head to acknowledge that days’ blouse.  

I apologized for the commentary and reached for my cupcake.  Which, by the way, I had lost interest in.  It was only going to make things worse.  

(Why is this blue?)


See what I mean about failing to be gentle with myself?    I’m pretty sure that I had offended her and quickly added that to my self degradation list.  (Loser, quit offending nice people).

I don’t have some awful sin to atone.  I just said what I was thinking and am always thinking.  I have to be more careful in the future with this type of situation.  I would rather fix my response than use that energy on accepting myself.  Oh the irony.

Does everyone else do this too?  You know, hate themselves 24/7?  Is there a brain cell that allows this?  Is it a depression thing?  How about female?  Maybe a need for perfection sets me off.


Today I was trying to laminate a card with packaging tape so that I could hang it up somewhere…  I wanted it to be in it’s original state for as long as possible.  But the stupid tape wasn’t very cooperative.   Here I am, trying to get control of the tape and it sticks to the card all weird.  Bubbles, creases, imperfect lines which show overlapping.  I could just kick myself.  The oh-so precious card wasn’t perfect anymore.  I had screwed that up too.  Upon closer inspection I noticed that there is black dog hair stuck too.  Check it out…

Perfect -Ha!

Curious about the front of the card?  I mean, it mattered so much that I was trying to preserve it…

My favorite part 🎀

See?  I told you I messed it up.  Again with irony.  (*sigh)

Creases and tears in the tape.  It will never be perfect now.  Which is okay -for a card, right?

I love her!
Black Pug -fur shedder.

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