Slowly but surely getting over the douchebag. I know I dodged a bullet, but the grazing of it past my skin is what I'm recovering from.
Today, whilst in hatred of men from my past, I began thinking about men in general. And I was surprised at what I found.
On the metro this morning, there was a group of three young priests, or more appropriately called, Seminarians, I believe?
They were all rosy cheeked, young men. All smiling and making jokes. They wore long robes black outfits, very circa 1950s. I have no idea where they were going or why but they seemed very content with where they were, which is a quality i always admire when i see it.
For some reason these three innocents reminded me that not all men are evil douchebags.
I've been blessed to have a number of strong, intelligent, loving, compassionate men who have walked in my life and some of them are still there, standing as pillars I can lean on whenever needed. Most of these men are from youth group, high school, or elementary school. I know I can call them anytime and they would be there to give me advice, listen or make fun of me when I most need it. They have all seen me cry and laugh until I cried. They are straight and gay, fat and thin, blood related and not. They are each beautiful and strong in their own way. But the quality I admire the most in them is that they have cared for me and continue to do so, despite distance, time, or my particular attitude that day.
So there is hope. There are men that will love me, that do love me for who I am and would never want me to change.
And for their existence, I feel blessed.
Today, whilst in hatred of men from my past, I began thinking about men in general. And I was surprised at what I found.
On the metro this morning, there was a group of three young priests, or more appropriately called, Seminarians, I believe?
They were all rosy cheeked, young men. All smiling and making jokes. They wore long robes black outfits, very circa 1950s. I have no idea where they were going or why but they seemed very content with where they were, which is a quality i always admire when i see it.
For some reason these three innocents reminded me that not all men are evil douchebags.
I've been blessed to have a number of strong, intelligent, loving, compassionate men who have walked in my life and some of them are still there, standing as pillars I can lean on whenever needed. Most of these men are from youth group, high school, or elementary school. I know I can call them anytime and they would be there to give me advice, listen or make fun of me when I most need it. They have all seen me cry and laugh until I cried. They are straight and gay, fat and thin, blood related and not. They are each beautiful and strong in their own way. But the quality I admire the most in them is that they have cared for me and continue to do so, despite distance, time, or my particular attitude that day.
So there is hope. There are men that will love me, that do love me for who I am and would never want me to change.
And for their existence, I feel blessed.
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