Kindness

I’m an openly kind person, I view people as people and it really is that simple.

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Probably your face right now, but hear me out…

There are people in my life who put up with my wackiness. They 100% accept me for my loud voice, my rotten choice of words, and my filter that doesn’t exist. I want to be that person for other people. Everyone should get to have those people who put their unique traits on a pedestal. The biggest right that we are given as humans is the ability to be 100% true to ourselves. Society has fucked that up; judgement has fucked that up.

In my late elementary years, in a school I had just started attending, some of the boys in my class coined a nickname for me: linebacker. 

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What I should have done when they called me that.

Sure, my shoulders were broad, I already knew that but I was legit shook over it every single time. I liked football, I was aware that the linebackers were the stocky ones, the solid ones. There are people who are torn down way more than I was in the sixth grade, but the gist of it is that I never want to make someone feel that way.

I get no joy out of making someone uncomfortable, it’s actually the opposite. I will make myself uncomfortable before I shove an intentional, or unintentional, difficult situation on someone else. I’m super fucking nice.

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Don’t let this post make you think I’ve always had this outlook. I’ve had my moments of bitchiness and have absolutely done my fair share of unkind things. I used to make prank phone calls to teachers, pretending to be another student (the true victim), and ask for private tutoring. That’s fucked up. I have also sabotaged relationships, others and my own, and felt little to no guilt over it. Why was I like that?

I’ve fallen into the judgment zone and I’ve said some harsh things, I’m human, but it’s never felt good. Accepting folks for who they are, their struggles and achievements, are not mine or yours and that’s the beauty of it. Maybe your hair is less than normal, perhaps your awkward stance is there as a wall, I don’t know your story until I ask and actively listen.

Often times I wonder if others look back on their life and wonder what the hell happened? Why did I act a certain way? Why did I do those shitty things? I don’t have my own answers to those questions, what I do have is clarity. I know who I am, who I want to be, where I envision my future, how I want to be remembered when I’m gone – and at the root of it all is the kindness.

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