Every time I look at you, I see failure growing abundantly on your waistline, shriveling up on your face, and crapping all over your home. I know you are intelligent and talented, but I keep telling you that it’s worthless. You are wasting your time trying to utilize those pieces of you that have always defined you. The problem is I want to see results, and I just don’t see them. ANYWHERE!
You always act like you have something to prove to people. Something to prove to me. Like you’re not good enough for me, and maybe you’re not good enough for me. Maybe I do deserve better than you, or maybe you deserve better than me.
Maybe I’m about as good for you as the controlling sociopath I always told you to avoid dating. Maybe I just don’t like the competition.
See I don’t want you to know how beautiful you are because you might stop trying to be beautiful except I noticed that making you feel ugly has just made you give up trying because irony is a bitch sometimes. I don’t want you to know how intelligent you are because other people don’t like that about you.
Yeah, sure you have some talent, but a master you are not, and a waste of time it is. You need to be taking care of your kids instead of chasing dreams because that’s what everyone says. You are nothing more than a house bitch and you just need to accept that.
The truth is, you need to see all your failures and flaws because you’re going to meet God someday. You’re just simply not good enough for Him yet. He deserves better than your impulsive laziness.
I wish you could see me the way God does: a smile that’s as beautiful as all the men claim, a sincere heart, and a fighting spirit. Truth is God doesn’t visit my home. He visits my heart.
What you see as failures aren’t always failures.
Jesus was nailed to a cross by the very people He was trying to get to follow Him. Could He really, after all that, put social skills down as a forte on His resume?
But yet, it is in his failures that He is one of the most famous guys to ever walk the earth with the top-selling book of all time. His birthday is celebrated every year, even by the descendants of some of those who crucified Him. And most importantly, of all His accomplishments, He is saving humans from a fate of suckage beyond their comprehension. All of that, through His failure.
No one in hell or on earth thought what He did was even possible, and yet He did it.
And no matter what He did, no matter what prostitutes He befriended, how many people He got drunk, and how many people He pissed off, God still loved Him and supported His endeavors completely. You may say, “But Jesus Christ was the Son of God, that’s why God loved Him unconditionally like that,” but I say, “Who the fuck are we? He made us. What would that make us exactly?” ….thinkaboutitMichelle…. Exactly.
Instead of telling me to try harder or work harder or do more, do better, do it all, maybe what you need to do is stop trying to defeat me before I begin. Stop telling me how much I suck. Stop repeating what other people say.
I’m never going to be what you want me to be until who I am now is good enough for you. I will never get to go where you want me to go until where I am is good enough for you. I need you to fully support me in my dreams, or they will haunt me in ways that stops me from being who I want to be.
Stop looking at me as a success or failure, or as good or bad. I just am. Everything I do I just do. Does all that have to have a label?
So with all due respect, please take a chill pill, sit the fuck down, and say something useful. Look at me the way you want other people to look at me.
And of all things, quit being so critical of me. You can delegate that task to other people in my life as many of them are more than willing to handle that for you.
This is part of Finish the Sentence Friday. Link up with a letter to yourself: