Aspiring Wise Fool

I Love Me Rant



I love me. I have not always loved me and for most of my life I did not think too highly of myself—but those days are over. I love me. I love me—without conditions, without shame, without a care if anybody believes I should or not—I love me.

I love my gray hair. I think it looks cool. I love my baggy eyes–they add character to my look. I like the moles on my face, and my long pointy nose.  It makes me look like a Roman Emperor!  I love my loose skin—it only shows I have the body of a man with much life experience!  I don’t care that I’m not the strongest person, or the fastest person, or the most coordinated person—I love me.  I’m fine just the way I am.  I’m healthy, flexible, and in reasonably good condition– I feel good–I feel fantastic–and I love my body and I love me.  And when my body totally gives out—I will still love me!

I like the way I think. I don’t care if others agree with me.  I don’t care if I am branded as the campus liberal!  That’s okay, that’s fine–I love that man! I love that man who has grown so independent in his thought–that he doesn’t much care any more what people think about him.

I love that man who gets excited over nerdy concepts such as accreditation, communication theory, communication law–I love that guy!  I love that guy who doesn’t believe like everybody else,  I love that guy who loves woodworking, gardening and hanging out with his friends playing cards—I love that guy!

I love the journey this man has been on. I love the little boy who was abandoned as a child.  I love the little boy who cried when his sister’s name was changed by his adopted family–I love that little boy.  I love that little boy who believed everything his parents told him—including Santa Claus , the Easter bunny–and sometimes very crazy notions about people, places, politics, and religion.  I love that guy.

I love that gawky little seventh grader!  The one who was smaller than his peers, the one who was so socially awkward that he carried a little box briefcase wherever he went. I love that boy!  I love that boy who had buck teeth!  The boy who was teased and taunted and bullied!  I especially love that boy.  I love that boy who didn’t know how to ask for a date.  I love that boy who couldn’t look a girl in the eye! I love that boy who wanted to be more popular than he was—who felt like he didn’t fit in—who  sometimes felt like He didn’t have any friends–who worried about his looks–his acne–his hair and his size.  I love the boy who had no athletic talent.  The boy who read books–one after the other–the boy who listened to Frank Sinatra, Frankie Valli, Perry Como and all the crooners! I love that boy!

I love that man who raised a family–who went to swim meets, faculty meetings, PTA meetings, band concerts, and hundreds of different events for his children. I love that man.  I love that man who sometimes has trouble filtering what he says—who is likely to blurt out things he wishes he hadn’t said–I love that guy! I love that man who had a life crash so bad that he did not care if he lived or died—I love that man.

I love that man who has made so very many mistakes. I love how he strives to be better–I love how he sometimes worries over things too much. I love the things that he’s concerned about–I love his heart–I love that he cares about social justice–that he wants everybody to find happiness–that he wants to live in a society where everyone is treated with dignity and respect.

I love that man who struggled with his faith—and finally decided that it’s okay if he doesn’t believe exactly like everybody else!

I love that man and I love me!