I Am Lying to Myself
I've been doing this. I believed strongly that every human being is just that: a human being. Same as every other but for a few tiny genetic mods and the vastly different backgrounds of experiences and interactions that shape us. Athletes. Awesome people like Danny MacAskill and Sebastian Faucon. Founders of the Food Is Free Project, 38 Degrees, Avaaz. Human beings.
That belief was so strong. So strong. I was using it to rebuff people who don't hold the same belief. To send them packing. Those are not people I want in my life. Haters, rejectors, people who dislike the diversity of this wonderful race. Not for me.
Yet, when I am flirted with by a homosexual or bisexual man, I feel uncomfortable. When I dream of creating my own food garden, I do not start. I don't even click the how-to links that HELPFULLY APPEAR ON MY FACEBOOK NEWSFEED.
I believed it for everyone else. Except me. This isn't my most shameful admission ever. I don't know if that's sad or what. But. Even with a heart of gold, passing people on from places of sadness towards places they could be happy. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Work. Doing. As this happened for them, I myself chose to stay behind, welcoming the next lot onto my boat to do the same old river crossing.
I feel like the time has come for me to rise. But rising up the chain means exploiting more people, or so I'm led to believe. It also means more stress, as I manage more workload. Really? Fears. Fears prevent more dreams from coming to fruition than failures do. I know this, but I don't *know* this.
It's hard to be me. But I wish it. Someday that wish will come true.
That belief was so strong. So strong. I was using it to rebuff people who don't hold the same belief. To send them packing. Those are not people I want in my life. Haters, rejectors, people who dislike the diversity of this wonderful race. Not for me.
Yet, when I am flirted with by a homosexual or bisexual man, I feel uncomfortable. When I dream of creating my own food garden, I do not start. I don't even click the how-to links that HELPFULLY APPEAR ON MY FACEBOOK NEWSFEED.
I believed it for everyone else. Except me. This isn't my most shameful admission ever. I don't know if that's sad or what. But. Even with a heart of gold, passing people on from places of sadness towards places they could be happy. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Work. Doing. As this happened for them, I myself chose to stay behind, welcoming the next lot onto my boat to do the same old river crossing.
I feel like the time has come for me to rise. But rising up the chain means exploiting more people, or so I'm led to believe. It also means more stress, as I manage more workload. Really? Fears. Fears prevent more dreams from coming to fruition than failures do. I know this, but I don't *know* this.
It's hard to be me. But I wish it. Someday that wish will come true.
36-40, M
