Real talk: The foundation is you.

I was an ugly child…

*Cassandra stops writing after hearing large gasp from her audience.*

It’s alright, beloveds. The sentence was specifically written.

For, a reason.

To, get your attention.

To, stop YOU, in your tracks.

To, force you to look.

At, you.

As far as the world was/is concerned, however, I WAS an ugly child. A joyful one. Yet, an “ugly” one.

Boys used to chase follow me, down countless school hallways, whispering and laughing, about how ugly I was.

Girls used to walk with me, down countless hallways, whispering and laughing, about how ugly I was.

Grown men and women used to follow me, down countless aisles and walkways, confusing me with being a man and calling me “sir”.

I was:

Athletic.

Big boned.

Thick thighed.

Hercules.

Loud.

I had/have:

Two, gorgeous, brown eyes.

One, ridiculous-sounding laugh.

THE dumbest/clumsiest dance the world has ever known.

A heart of gold(cuz I love aforementioned boys, girls, men and women just cuz they are).

“Hercules, come move this freezer for me”.

Mom was fond of calling me her Hercules and having move this heavy thing and that one.

I played basketball. Very well. Well enough to compete with and beat boys. Then, grown men. They did not like that. So, of course, called me ugly names. I did not like that. So, of course, made the beat downs especially Cheryl Miller like. If you don’t know who Cherly Miller was you better ask somebody!

To digress, for one moment, Cheryl Miller was one of the greatest/gifted basketball players I had ever seen. Male or female. I shall be writing about her, soon. Stay tuned.

Now that I have set the stage, we can move on. I did not want to distract you with a set up or stage. Sadly, most folk are wandering around trying to distract others, from looking at them, by setting and creating an elaborate stage upon which to perform their lives for the world to see.

They feel like imposters. They feel unworthy. They feel worthless. So, they hide. Behind masks of shame. They lock their true beauty behind makeup, clothes, jewelry and the like.

They hide their hearts upon the arms of men/women, whom they deem ‘beautiful’ so as to distract from their own ugliness.

This is why, beloveds, I speak so freely of my supposed ugliness. I never FELT ugly. To me, I just WAS. I was just me. Yes, it hurt, terribly, to be dismissed and ignored because I didn’t fit the mode of acceptably pretty folk.

I spent my growing up years eating alone, in the lunch room. I learned to live, alone, encouraging my way through this thing called life.

I never married. Almost did. Now, THAT, truly is another story for another day…

I never had children. I told myself it was because of my ministry, my jobs, my this, my that.

Maybe, though, beloveds, I never married or had kids because my heart secretly believed the lie that I was just too ugly for a man to look at me let alone fall head over heels for a loud ugly duckling called Cassandra.

That would be awfully sad, if true. I don’t think on it, much. If I did…hhmm.

Now, right now, here, currently, presently,  present, I just love me some me. Fat, balding from health issues that has cruelly snatched my crown. Leaving what’s left in white and gray strands. This doesn’t bother me. Not, anymore.

Any self-respecting sister will tell you that our hair is something we don’t trifle with or suffer fools about!

Over the last three years, God and Life have helped me learn HOW to love and accept ALL of me. ALL!

I love the loud, me.

I love the quiet, me.

I love the silly, me.

I love the annoyed, me.

I love the annoying, me.

I love the passionate, me.

I love the irrational, me.

I love the lazy, me.

I love the introspective, me.

I love the extroverted, me.

I love the me that thinks I am too ugly to be loved by a man.

I love the me that hopefully rushes to her phone to see if anyone responded to her blog posts.

I love the me that wonders if all these years of longing to love, to be loved have been a joke and humongous waste of God’s Resources.

I love the me who was ridiculous enough to have tweeted President Biden, First Lady Biden, President Obama, Michelle Obama, Elon Musk, and others, to support my GoFundMe page so I can take my sabbatical and write. 🤣

I love the me that STILL does not know how!

ALL things things help and ARE the foundation of my life. In fact, my life IS the foundation.

As is yours, beloveds.

The foundation of WHAT?

Ah.

Aha!

Great question!

Ask who?

Ah.

Aha!

You are getting closer.

I shall end this hear. So you can ask and receive some wondrous answers.

Life is short. Time for you to lift up your beautiful head.

This world has sold you a bill of goods that yoy are this, that and the other thing. None of which are worthy of being seen and loved.

Ha!

To hell with that! You were fearfully and wonderfully made, the Bible says.

Rise, beloveds. Then, love someone today. Starting with you. You don’t need to wait for someone to come riding up on a horse to claim your heart.

You do NOT have to present a stash of cash to be loved.

You do NOT have to be this, that or the other thing. Just, be. You. The foundation.

Of what?

Ah.

Aha!

loving me some Him, some me and some you,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

1. 

   That reminder to stop trying to prove ourselves and just set down the weight of guilt is so deeply comforting.…

2. 

   I really enjoyed this, so true and made me smile.

3. 

   🫶

4. 

   😉🥰

5. 

   A sharp, comprehensive breakdown that exposes the friction between rapid growth and operational survival in online businesses.

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