I once read a quote by Roy T. Bennett which said, “Be mindful. Be grateful. Be positive. Be true. Be kind.” As a naturally mindful, grateful, positive, truthful, and kind person, it’s understandable why I held the quote so close to my heart. It was the reassurance needed that my natural tenderness, sensitivity, and compassion are a justified existence in a world that’s often treacherous and punishing. I say justified because my sensitivity was much of a topic when I was growing up. Although met with complimentary fascination and enamored intrigue by loved ones, it was also considered a defect; a horde of unsuitable characteristics unmatchable for a life of survival. Therefore, many of my inner mechanics were scrutinized with harsh criticisms. All to “toughen me up” apparently.
Nonetheless, despite being punished for my wholesomeness – my innocence criticized by the legacy of my family’s ghastly persecution, tragedy, and xenophobic experiences – I’ve preserved my optimism and empathy. A little bruised, a little wounded, and a great deal more “woke” than naivety would like, but a sympathetic soul I’ve remained. At the grand age of 41, no one can tell me to apologize for who I am. I no longer regret the space that I take up, nor how much of that space I fill with my idiosyncrasies, and I’m no longer apologizing for wearing an entire wardrobe of mindful lace, grateful textiles, positive cuffs, truthful buttons, and kind sleeves. I’ve long since deprogrammed from self-dissection and instead reloaded with self-worship, tossing all other bad habits of self-criticism and self-destruction into an abyss that’s unlocatable. Besides, my new MGPTK wardrobe fits me much better.
There’s a dreadful misconception that compassionate, benevolent, and gracious people aren’t tough. But who exactly is it that’s deciding whether we’re tough or not? And how are they measuring our supposed weakness? Among those who aren’t like us, sharing in the elements of human nature that breed peace over conflict, wellness over misfortune, and togetherness over segregation, who is it that’s driving the needle to indicate that our mindfulness is a mere mishap? And who was it that said sensitivity is the reflection of fragility? Alas, I must stop asking all these “who” questions. At this point, I feel like I’ve slipped into Anne Robinson’s black suit just before she commands opponents to cast their votes. And who will be the weakest link once they do? Surely not a member of the MGPTK brigade?
Regardless of my family’s concerns when I was a child, and the concerns of primary school teachers and youth club leaders, and despite those who’ve mocked my kindness throughout the years, exploding with glee once the shit hit the fan and my kindness saw me betrayed, and despite societies poor reflection on unity, forgiveness, tolerance, and love, I'm proud to belong to yet another alphabet soup. I’m proud to be exempt from all things that aren’t mindful, grateful, positive, truthful, and kind, and I’m proud to be all things that are conscientious, appreciative, encouraging, sincere, and above all, humane.
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