A friend of mine is fond of making fun of sapiosexual people.
I wonder how that makes him happy. Interestingly, he embraces same-sex relationships but cannot make sense of how intelligence is a turn-on. I don’t bother trying to explain it to him; he’s intelligent enough to get it. He just can’t be bothered.
My point however, is it is what it is. He is a valued friend; one of the few people I can share my strangest thoughts with and not feel like a psychopathic killer. We just can’t agree on sapiosexuality.
And that’s fine.
There are a lot of things about me that make people uncomfortable. I accept that. There are a lot of things about me that make some of the people I hold most dear not know what to do with me. I accept that too. I accept these things because I’ve come to understand; just because people do not understand or like a particular thing doesn’t make that thing automatically bad.
It just is what it is.
But; and I can tell you this for free – I did not always understand that. I would have friends, we would fight and I would spend time agonizing over the fact that I have done it again, whatever ‘it’ was supposed to be. And sometimes, I would ask such friends and they would be unable to explain what it was to me. So I thought maybe it’ll be best if I stopped having friends. No friends, no heartbreak. And for a while, I was okay.
And then, as it happens in fiction, I fell in love.
That particular romance shaped a lot of me. I had someone who bothered, who took the time to know me for me, and not based on what someone said or whatever his expectations were. I knew what it felt like to be loved and accepted for who I was.
It felt like I imagine heaven to feel. It. Was. Everything.
Of course, I have flaws and I continually work on making them better. However, there’s a clear difference between bad and unusual/different. A lot of us are unhappy because people are not accepting of us because we don’t meet their idea of perfect. We continually try to fit ourselves into boxes created for us but we don’t belong in and it’s killing us slowly. Daily, we unintentionally commit slow suicide.
That’s no life.
We must learn to embrace ourselves for who we are. Again, to be clear – that is not to say ‘be rude if that’s who you are’ or ‘be an asshole’ and so on. It’s okay to not like Game of Thrones. I don’t. It’s okay to not care for Avengers Infinity War/Black Panther and the rest of those things. I do – and that’s fine either way. Be good to yourself sha, we’re all going through stuff and you deserve to be happy.
You’re beautiful, and your scars are nothing but beauty marks. Enjoy them.