Good grief we're so hard on ourselves and each other.
I just need to take a moment to recognize and acknowledge (and THANK) all the messed up people out there that make me feel totally and acceptably average.
You know - the people who you meet that seem like they're a total hot mess. They're going through something. The world doesn't coordinate your personal tragedies with everyone else's.
The people we choose to criticize through social media - the Rob Ford's, Justin Bieber's and Miley Cyrus's of the world. Ok, they may be a TOTAL hot mess - but can you at least for a second consider that maybe they're actually, honestly, be doing the best they know how?
To the train wreck on her cell phone that you're standing behind at the coffee shop, who may be coping with the death of a friend.
To the total bitch at Walmart who nearly let the door slam in your face as you tried to waltz in for your roll-backs.
To that asshole who cut you off on the highway because he just HAD to get home - for a reason that is none of your business.
Thank God for all the messed up people, because it means we're all in it together. We expect miracles from ourselves and everyone around us; we expect divinity from celebrities. Where is the allure in perfection? Isn't reality allure enough? It's certainly far more interesting.
Thank you to the people who despite all the numerous opportunities I've given you to give up on me - you haven't. I've symbolically let that door slam in your face, I've cut you off on the highway, and I've ignored you on my cell phone. I've been that person, and you've been okay with it. I've let the door slam in my own face a few times.
Thank God for messed up people, because it makes me like you more. Your imperfections are far more appealing than any perfection that might make me actually NOT like you. Imperfections are perfectly perfect to me, because that is what I know.
I am grateful for the messed up people of this world, who in their own messed-up-ness retain the humility to accept - and adore - those imperfections and challenges that make us interesting. Those tragedies that give us our stories. Those stories that give us our histories. Perfection is incredibly, horribly, dull.
I am thankful for my flaws, and for my failures. I am thankful for my friends who are as perfectly-imperfect as me, and I am forever grateful to everyone who has appreciated that every misstep and stumble has landed me perfectly, and exactly, where I belong.
Thank God for messed up people. Because without them, there would be no stories to tell. There'd be no hope to find in sadness and no dreams to find in the dark - there'd be no phoenix rising from ashes, and there'd be no forgiveness to offer, or to accept.
Thank God for messed up people. Because that's the only type of person there is.