I am not convinced about the need to read other people’s inspirational stories. I give due respect to anyone who is fighting the ‘good fight’ to remain engaged and positive at a time when ‘hope’ is the only string that is tethering the spirit within a body racked with pain.
Not sure that I find ‘inspiration’ but rather ‘distraction’ from my focus on keeping my string tethered. It is not that the takeaway message of resilience and determination is lost on me, but rather an attempt to avoid the natural tendency to measure oneself against another.
There are countless numbers of people who carry deep emotional wounds on the inside and conceal their physical limitations. Many have experienced trauma, grief, pain, abandonment, disillusionment and been victims of a crime. Many walk amongst us who are heroes just for stepping outside their doors each morning and re-engaging in society.
I have a deep reverence for those individuals who wear their scars truimphantly and defiantly. I am not not one of these, although others have called me ‘brave’ for many years. I do not like to be exposed for weakness or to reveal my fontanel to the jabbing fingers of others. Yet it bothers me not, that I write this openly to faces that I will never meet.