Hate

I was thinking, seeing as someone mentioned earlier how they’ ‘hate’ someone else … do I hate anything? I don’t mean dislike strongly but really  hate? Now, I dislike lots of things, the one thing I detest is lies and liars. Actually, way beneath that is a whole list of things which I dislike that I won’t bother with here. Even my phobia is something I would add to the list of ‘dislike’, I don’t hate it because I know, if I wanted to, and if I tried really hard, I could overcome it and have done on many occasions.

 

No, hate is something else, it is so strong there can be no solution to it, something so frustratingly, annoyingly, impossibly ‘there’ that it dominates just about every part of my life. When I sat down and thought about it I suddenly came up with a list of things I actually, truly, without any doubt, hated!

 

These are all parts of the physical me.

 

I hate wearing glasses … I hate it, I mean, really hate it when everyone else is enjoying something like swimming or being on the beach and I can’t see anything except blurs. When I wake up and I can’t see anything and am fumbling for my glasses. I hate how vulnerable having to need glasses makes me. If I lose or break them away from home and I drove, I can’t get home again. I can’t even see enough to work out how to get a bus or train visually, I’d have to get a taxi and even then, I wouldn’t be able to see to make sure I paid the right amount properly. Think about it, if you could only see blurs how would it affect you.

 

I hate my hearing aids, I really do. Yes, I love them for giving some hearing but, again, I need them. I have been unable to make friends for years because or not being able to hear them properly and losing confidence over that. Always in pubs and clubs I have no chance of hearing anyone. I hate not being able to hear like in the night if the kids need me or something. I’ve had people banging on the door, ringing the bell and phoning me but I can’t hear them unless my aids are in and working properly.

 

I totally hate being 5’ 3”, I mean, really hate it. I hate it placing me in a category, I hate being judged for it. I hate being spoken over like my height makes me insignificant. I hate that everything is designed for ‘normal’ men.

 

I hate my teeth, they look horrible and I can’t do anything about it, I really hate them and my voice too whilst I am at it.

 

In my mind I am a stranger to this body of mine, it doesn’t say to me anything about who I am and what I am about. Nothing about the way I think is represented by my body. I am sure, totally convinced in fact, that I’d have had a much easier time in life, been way more respected had I been 5’ 10”, had 20/20 vision and normal hearing and gleaming white American teeth, I just know life would have been so much simpler for me.

 

But, you know what, knowing all of that, knowing how I hate those physical attributes, I love my life! I love my kids, my grandchildren and my friends, I love my husband Deej. I dislike the chavs around here but I love my home and I treasure my memories and experiences.

 

If having been born looking how I desperately want to look meant anything about that would change, then, hell, leave me short, deaf blind and ugly!

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