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Spots and Idiotic Idioms

By annie

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There is a spot on my leg. Had I made it as a fashion model, it would likely have been airbrushed away,  attacked with creams, and potions, and lasers. There would be meetings about that spot.  An imperfection on my otherwise alabaster skin.

It’s a spot that had, for the most part, been overlooked.

An imperfection.

Among many.

There’s an idiom that states that a leopard can’t change his spots. We take it to mean that there are just some quirks about a person that they are unable to change.

That’s wrong.

The leopard can’t change his spots, because without them, he is no longer a leopard. His spots make him unique, his spots make him who he is. He is defined by his spots.

Are my spots what define me? Are they an imperfection? When you look at my spots do you see them as what sets me apart from the rest of the world, or are they everything that is wrong about me?

I am an advocate for wrong. For being wrong. For doing it wrong. For admitting that you’re wrong. My tombstone will read. “Oops, guess I was wrong about that” and maybe I’m wrong about this.

To me, your spots are what make you who you are.

You can pretend they don’t exist. You can become a black panther and disguise them. You can cover them, attack them, you can wish them away.

Or

You can dare to reveal them.

To be vulnerable.

You can say “This is who I am. These are my spots. I can’t change them, and after much consideration, I don’t want to.”

Remember, two seconds ago, when I said that I hadn’t given that spot on my leg much thought?

I hadn’t.

I probably wouldn’t.

but for a boy who loves me.

Who adores that spot.

Who tells me things he’s never said out loud.

Who in my presence allows himself to be vulnerable.

He shouts to the world that he is invincible, and whispers in my ear that he is not.

To him, that spot is perfect. It is spot to rest his hand, somewhat appropriately, when we are out in public.  A spot to lay his head when he is having a bad day. (He’s already screen capped the picture above on his phone so he can tell it feelings later.)

I can’t change my spots. After much consideration, I don’t want to. My spots define me. They make me unique in the world. If you don’t like my spots, there are other spots. This spot is me.

For its entire existence, that spot has been overlooked, until he made it the most special spot in the world.

Filed in: annieology, MWF • Friday, October 25th, 2013
 

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Annie is all things awesome. Singer of songs, thinker of thoughts, runner of miles. When she isn't getting paid to kick ass as a personal trainer and health coach, she's looking for her keys.