im just a short, music loving, weird, crazy, emotional, broken but healing, home cooking, guitar playing(sorta), madly in love with my bf (future husband) gal
Years ago when I was working at a bookstore, a little black boy came in wearing a Spider-Man shirt.
I asked him who his favorite Spider-Man was.
He replied, “Peter Parker.”
I told him mine was Miles.
He didn’t know who Miles was, so I showed him the cover of a comic with Miles Morales on it.
I watched a look of confusion come over his face.
He looked up at me and said,
“But he is black.”
I said,
“Yeah. Spider-Man is black in those comics.”
His eyes got big. He grabbed the comic from my hand and ran off yelling,
“Mom! Mom! Spider-Man looks like me! Spider-Man looks like me!”
One of my college professors used to say "anything worth doing is worth doing poorly." I didn't understand that for years because I didn't do anything poorly, I couldn't do anything poorly, I had to Do Everything Perfectly.
But brushing your teeth for 30 seconds is better than not brushing them at all when that 2 minutes seems exhausting. Doing ten minutes of yoga is better than 10 minutes of sitting when 30 minutes of cardio sounds impossible.
Changing my clothes is good when a whole shower is impossible. Standing on the porch for a few minutes is worth it after being in the house for three straight days because I don't have the energy to go anywhere.
Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly... because doing it poorly is better than not doing it.
According to psychology people who grew up in families where no one apologized for disagreements, and would just let time pass instead of actually resolving things, often become conflict-avoidant, fearing confrontation or the expression of negative emotions, poor communicators, lacking the skills to effectively resolve issues or express their needs and feelings.
Anonymous
I work the night desk at a rundown motel. $39 a night. Cash only.
Man checked in at midnight. Paid for one night. Looked exhausted.
Next morning found him in the parking lot. Sitting in his truck. Engine running. Hose from the exhaust.
I ran. Ripped the door open. Pulled him out.
He fought me. “Let me go. I have nothing left.”
Called 911. Stayed with him until they came.
Paramedics took him. Psychiatric hold.
Found his room key in the parking lot. Went to his room.
Suicide note on the bed.
Addressed to his kids. He’d lost everything. Job. House. Family. Couldn’t see a way forward.
Visited him at the hospital every day. Brought food. Sat with him.
“Why do you care? You don’t even know me.”
“Because you’re here. And that means something.”
Two weeks later, he got out. Had nowhere to go.
Gave him a job. Night maintenance at the motel. Let him stay in a room.
Six months later, he was managing the place. I’d trained him. Trusted him.
Three years later, he bought the motel from me.
I was retiring anyway.
Last week, drove by. Sign out front: “Second Chance Inn.”
He’d repainted. Fixed it up. Made it nice.
Called me. “Half the rooms are permanent housing. For people like I was. People who need somewhere to start over.”
He’s housed forty-seven people in two years.
Suicide hotline number on every room phone.
“Because a night clerk grabbed me out of a truck and refused to let me disappear.”
This is how The Disney Channel used to signify the start of the Vault Disney portion of their programming. This may be the best quality copy of it I've ever seen. I obtained it scouring raw VHS tapes posted online.