The Part



Let’s talk about me. And you.

Let’s put me on the stand, let’s cut me open, let’s delve into the convoluted turmoil of a soul cloaked behind a happy-go-lucky extroverted charm.

Insecurity reigns me, and my flaws pain me

As the monsters of self-destruction and the beasts of self-hatred

Keep my confidence confined to cameo appearances

While I preach perfection on the pulpit in my head.

An arsenal of labels at my disposal:

The sinner, the failure, the hypocrite, the loser, the outcast

The mistaken, the delusional, the wimp, the less-than-masculine, the stupid,

The idiot, the not-good-enough, the one without friends, the lame, the fat,

The ugly, the awkward, the non-athletic, the broken, the useless.

That’s me.

Is it?

Or am I more?

Are we more?

Are we more than our little self-analyses will allow?

What if the power that brought the universe to being

Formed us as well?

What if behind the curtains of a great epic

Is the Designer of a masterpiece

And we are meant to play a part?

Our part.

Yes, we will fumble lines

We will drop props

We will miss cues

We will scramble, tumble, mumble, and make mistakes.

But we cannot fail.

We cannot fail at the part, your part, my part

We were created to play.

In that, we cannot help but succeed. 

So. Let’s talk about me. And you.

"All the world’s a stage,

And all men and women merely players."

So stop straining for perfection

And play the part you were made for: YOU.

As the Designer applauds

Thoroughly pleased

With His masterpiece.


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