I Heart Hope

A couple of weeks ago, Bollybutton suggested that in honour of Women’s Day we write a post about the things we love about ourselves. Despite a turmoil filled week I managed to sit back at the end of each day and think about just that. What do I like about myself? It has been challenging but this is what I came up with:

I like that I have the ability to feel so much. When I am sad, it is almost as if I have the entire world’s sadness in me. I like that when I am happy I will walk down the street smiling at anyone who looks in my direction. I like that I try to understand the people that I don’t understand.

I like my femininity; the way I can use my lips and my eyes to express things my voice will never dare say. I like my softness; the way I can be so gentle. Yet, I love my hardness; especially when I have the courage to say no. In fact, I love my contradictions.

Like how I think Mandy Moore and The Killers are both awesome. Like how I can read the trashiest chick lit and the most pretentious Noam Chomsky and find them both equally deserving of my time. Like the way I hate breaking rules but hardly ever follow the rules of punctuation or mating games.

I like the beauty spot on my right breast. I love my collarbone and I like my hair in a ponytail. I love the way I play. Like when I pick up my nephew and spin him around screeching ‘Eeeeeeagle!” JD style. I like the way I play with words making myself and other’s laugh or cry.

I love that I love a good piggy back ride in the street like a little girl and I love that, in dark corners, I kiss like a woman.

I like that I can cry, easily. I like that every time I really laugh, I applaud. Or hit the person sitting next to me. I like my mind because it entertains me, it comforts me. I like my spirit because beneath the cynicism and self-doubt it still believes in all the goodness. And I love my heart.

Because, despite it all, it is open and quite simply never stops ticking.