I believed

In being a person I could be proud of:
kind, compassionate, thoughtful, there.

I wanted to be this person
because I’d only ever met one such individual;
he was always there.
A good role model.

I thought that decency, kindness and compassion
would attract people who felt the same way.
Instead, everything I had to offer was drained,
and still I wasn’t good enough.
I was more alone.

Then I stopped
I breathed
I took stock
I was the person I wanted to be and that meant something.

I treated people the way I wished to be treated,
and that meant more
because it was a measure of my undoing and rebuilding.
An insular girl had become out-reaching and aware.

It mattered not that others didn’t care,
didn’t want what I offered.
Free will and all that.

Even though they constantly told me that
‘people don’t care’.

Maybe it was me they didn’t want?
However, I tried.
But the new improved person wasn’t improved enough.
Still a broken mirror reflecting imperfection?

And that was okay.
I am human.
The best human I can be, and I will keep trying.
At the end of the day it was never about them,
it was always about me,
and whether I liked me.
I do.

I do not like them.

Deb Hawken - December 2024
For all those who try too hard to be liked.
Like yourself even if no one else agrees – you have that right