Set for Life

A post written on this day two years ago.

People, Places, and Perspectives.

In my own skin
Though in a swanky high rise
I live not.

The worthiness
Of being me
The one and only me
In my own very league
There’s no need for yardsticks.

The value
That I can bring
My inimitable unique selling point
The legacy
I can leave
As exclusive
As my finger print.

Know this
Don’t live the lie
The Joneses
Have their own battles to fight
Be free, be you
And you are
Set for life.

View original post

One-Liner Wednesday- Worth is Absolute, not Relative

This world focuses so much on superficial foundations of personal worth–looks, wealth (your ‘net worth’), intelligence, achievements, popularity–that most people feel worthy only when they measure up; but the truth is all of us ARE worthy just because there is only one of each and every one of us and that we can offer something to the world that no one else can!

This is part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday:

One-Liner Wednesday–If Only

If only, if only each and every of us knows how valuable and worthy we are, just because we have been created to be so, and that our worth is not determined by that one person’s opinion–that playground bully, the spouse who walked out, the parent who could never be pleased, that unrequited love, that mean boss, that insulting audition judge, that publisher who tears your manuscript apart.

This post is part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday:

Beauty, a Curse!

Once upon a time, a girl was born
And as she grew, it became clear
That she would look quite fine.

Friends and family flatter and fawn
“Ooh” and “aah” over large eyes
And brows that they say
Won’t need penciling, ever
And my, double eyelids!
“The envy of your fellow Chinese”
Then her limbs grew longer, and it became
“Oh you could be a model someday
And have many admirers.”

The girl grew up
But guess what she found
Life isn’t easy, and
“Beauties” aren’t spared misery
And how hollow are mere looks
If beneath the veneer
The mind, will, and spirit stay in infancy!
And how empty the heart
If mere appearance
Were to be the ticket
To happiness, love, acceptance
And behind the scenes
Models work like dogs, fight like cats
And get admired–but as mere objects.

Oh what lies!
Albeit unintentionally told
Beauty, talent, intelligence, pedigree, wealth–
All strokes of luck with no proof of pluck
Tell me I am worthy because of that
And you stroke my ego while raising suspicion of my uselessness.

Turn back the clock
Give me a mountain
And praise my determination
Challenge me to altitudes
And praise me for my fortitude
Tell me I can have it all
If only I would work hard
And get up when I fall
Tell me I would walk tall
Only if I survive the lowest ebbs.

Turn back the clock
And never again harp on the skin deep.

I would rather you spin a story
Of courage, strength, kindness
And other womanly virtues I can work on… and be proud that I finally stand out on a level playing field.

Empty surface beauty is a curse.