the unique me

People are just people, all different, all made up of their own collection of stories and challenges.  That is what makes us all unique.  A mixture of Radio 2’s pause for thought today and a line from BBC’s ‘In the dark’ brilliant drama.

 

Our uniqueness is something to be celebrated and the embellishments of our being to be cherished.  I know I am rubbish at that and far quicker to critique…  Perhaps today was the day to look at myself in a different way and look a little deeper than the superficial.

 

What do people see when they see me?

 

The died blond hair.  Or the story of a girl who couldn’t bear to look at her sad dark face any longer, only wishing to see light in everything and she needed to shroud her face with a softer but brighter frame.

The blue gold eyes framed by wrinkles and tired smudges.  Or the story of a girl who loved to laugh until it hurt, but now is still plagued by nightmares of loss, grief and panic.

The rounded shoulders.  Or the story of an ex-computer geek, 12 hour days in front of a screen, now mum and housewife with the weight of the world on her shoulders as she tries to fathom life out and make it better for everyone, including herself.

The lycra and trainers.  Or the story of a girl whose mother told her she was fatter than her sister so many times that stuck so she is paranoid about any orange peel or ounce of gained weight, but who is actually now grateful for the drive and love of daily health and exercise.

The stretch marks and saggy, little pouch of a belly.  Or the eternal gratitude for 2 healthy, strong, strappy, gorgeous sons and perhaps, the love of any wine with friends …  or chocolate.

The happy smile.  Or someone wearing a mask to hide the lack of confidence and temerity that seems to be plaguing her, someone ‘faking it’ til she makes it true…

……

I read back what I have written earlier in the day. As a friend to myself, I am sad that that is how I see myself.  If I had done the same exercise a year ago, the confident, joyful Ali would have probably written something far different.

I look forward to her returning, or a better, stronger, just as unique momentary version of her when she is ready to blaze and dazzle everyone again with her sparkle, rather than sprinkling sad words.

But right now, I am the unique person living through this particular challenge, this particular story of intense self-reflection, of past acceptance and future nervous intrigue.

 

unique

 

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