What Makes Her Special?
I wonder if people know that asking that question is a self-defeating form of comparative analysis…
How you ask…
Well you know I am going to tell you…
I get asked that question about the main character in my books,
Cinnamon Brown has them asking…
‘What she got, that I don’t have?’
This woman seems to have it all and has people changing the rules to accommodate her…
One of the things she has in spades…
Is she never compares herself to or competes with anyone other than herself…
She knows her strengths and expounds upon them…
She knows her weaknesses and makes no excuses for them and doesn’t allow…
Them to stop her in her tracks…she keeps it moving, handling her business…
Many who know me always wink when talking about her…
Because this is the component that makes Cinnamon most like me…
Comparing yourself to someone is drudgery…
Because the likelihood of you becoming that person…
Is slim…
And if you do then you are a fraud…
I used to find it so exhausting when people would ask me…
“What makes you special or different?’
Felt like I had to apologize for being blessed…
Nowadays I smile and say, only if inclined, ‘Child we are all special…just get your focus off me and other people and surely you will find it.’
There is a scene that stands out in my mind from my fifteenth year,
I was standing at the bus stop…
It was near prom time and this girl and I were talking...about the prom…
She told me she might not go…
I asked why…
She told me because she didn’t want to be with the guy who had asked her…
She must have seen the puzzled look on my face…
Because she told me…
“Girl you don’t have to be with someone on prom night, but the rest of us do…”
Huh? I still didn’t get it…I asked her if being with meant with sex…
Nodding, she said, ‘Yes’
When I didn’t say anything else, she looked at me with tears on her lids, saying,
“We aren’t all special, like you…”
I swallowed down a lump, I could feel her pain, but at fifteen I knew enough to know that special would never grow from those particular seeds…I looked at her, she was a pretty, smart girl, and wondered how she had gotten to that place…
Because what I knew for sure is that if she had started out knowing in her heart that she was special, she wouldn’t feel the need to be with anyone to prove it….and a prom would be a place where she could dress up really nicely…
Dance with lots of people,
Laugh with her girlfriends,
Take lots of photos,
Eat at a nice restaurant,
Then go home and sleep with memories of how much fun she'd had…
Now ain’t that special….
Lovingly,
angelia
