I’m Me

Kathie, a friend of Kim’s posted a quote from Cave Girl on Facebook. It read, in part:

“I’m me. I eat food, I have curves, I carry a little more weight than I should, I have scars, I have a history, some people love me, some people like me, some can’t stand me.”

I love that.

That, to me, is the beauty in aging.

We get more comfortable in ourselves.

We aren’t worried what other people will think.

Think of all the things we didn’t do because of what other people might think. Places we didn’t go to, movies we didn’t see, people we didn’t take the time to get to know.

The loss was ours.

There’s that truth we all live: life is long and at the same time life is short.

How do we live and serve both thoughts.

We shouldn’t live selfishly and hedonistically just for today because life is long.

We shouldn’t put off happiness and kindness because we’ll always have time, because maybe we won’t.

We balance making ourselves and others happy. We find ourselves happier when those around us are happy.

We find that our kindness is sometimes rebuffed but often rewarded.

We lose it all when we live trapped by what we think other people might think. In our heads it’s huge. Everyone notices.



And then we find out years later that it was mostly in our own head. The others were so busy with their lives that they barely noticed this thing we thought they cared so much about.

The loss was ours.

Someone texted me yesterday because she thought she smelled smoke or something burning in her house.

I encouraged her to call the fire department. They have a non-emergency number. Tell them it may be nothing but you just wanted to ask them about it.

She’d been up for hours worried about it. She had read that they’ll send a lot of trucks anyway. She didn’t want to make the news.

No, I texted her, much better for the headline to read “Woman dies in house fire because she’s too embarrassed to call the fire department.”

We worry so much about other people.

After not dating for a while, I dated a lot of women before I met Kim. None of them worked out.

What was different about Kim?

A lot of it was her, but some of it was me. I paused to make sure I was happy with who I was. I made changes til I was. Then I was ready to meet Kim.

By the time we started dating we both had become rooted in ourselves. We understood who we were. We didn’t “put on airs.”

Kim and I used to have a friend who we’d see now and then. Often he’d have a woman with him. There was one particular story he’d tell if this was a woman he was interested in.

He became that person for the woman he wanted. We always wanted him to stay himself. That way he could be sure he was the person she wanted.

I want to surround myself with people who are who they are.

I was spoiled for twenty-five years by being with someone who was so authentic.

Kim didn’t wear much makeup – her mom told me it was my fault. That I didn’t want Kim to look so good that other men would hit on her.

I smiled.

I never told Kim what to or not to wear. She sometimes wore makeup when we went out – but not that often.

The first winter we were married Kim said, “Sorry honey, I’m just not going to shave my legs during the winter. No one but you sees them anyway.”

It sounds silly, but those are the things that made her more attractive.

Cave Girl wrote, “I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I am who I am.”


Published in: on February 5, 2017 at 9:18 am  Leave a Comment  

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