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same kind of different.

Where do I begin?

I’m different. Let’s just start there. I don’t usually do or think things the way others do. I’m emphatically compassionate and understanding. I purposefully look to see the beauty in all people, things, circumstances, situations, etc. I really do. And I’m a forgiver. I truly accept people for where they are in life at the moment. I get that we all have our own journey. I get it. That being said, I have an acute discernment. I usually know how much of myself to give.

It can be difficult living in a world where most people are not the ‘same kind of different’ as me. I know two who are: my mom and dad. I learned how to be different from them.

I grew up watching my parents love and accept ALL kinds of people. Our home had an open door policy. I mean, ANYONE was accepted. My mom would feed ‘em. My dad would interrogate ‘em and try to learn who they were. Like, who they really were. He’d meet ‘em right where the were (in life). My mom did the same. And she could get along with ANYONE. Empathy is what it was. They had it in abundance, and I watched that. It’s all I ever saw. It’s all I know how to be.

My dad helped SO many people. Often times it would come back to bite him in the butt, but he’d continue to give over and over again. My mom had a gift. She brought the best out of people.

She gave SO much hope.

Like, literally, I was cool with my dad’s ex-wife as a child. I’d go sit with her at church, and she’d give me gum! My mom would be in the choir stand singing and smiling away. Most people can’t even mention their exes name, much less be cool with them. They’re carrying too much unforgiveness, heaviness, or envy. I don’t know. Whatever keeps them all hung up.