In yesterday’s letter, I urged you to acknowledge your weaknesses, so that you don’t assume you’re good at everything and blame others when you fail. Today, I’ve decided to lead by example. I’m going to share my own weaknesses, the things that shrink my ego down to the size of a peanut. Here goes…
1) Running. I’ve been told on way too many occasions that when I run, I “look funny.” No one can say why I look funny or help me correct it; apparently there’s just something about the way I run that makes them point, stare and chuckle. Needless to say, such comments make me reluctant to go for a jog around the block. In recent years, however, I’ve decided that I don’t care what people think, and I don’t care that running is one of the most painful experiences on earth… I try running whenever I can just because it’s good exercise. I will never ever admit to being good at it, though. Especially when I can see the neighbors snickering at me behind their curtains.
2) Anything having to do with math. I’m a lover of words, not numbers. Writing comes easily to me, math never has and never will. For example, the other day you asked me what 6 x 4 is and I honestly did not know the answer. Need I say more?
3) Art. I don’t know where you inherited your artistic ability, but it certainly wasn’t from me. I can barely draw stick figures. Whenever I get a blue card in the Cranium game, I break into a cold sweat. They want me to draw with my eyes closed?! I can’t even draw with them open! And the Sculpturade one? Whatever I sculpt always turns out looking like a piece of… it’s just not good, okay?
4) Doing hair. I can put your hair in a ponytail; that’s about it. Lately, girls have been wearing small braids that start at their part and go down the side of their head. I want so badly to be able to do that to my and your hair but every time I try I fail miserably. It’s a good thing you’re not very girly because you would be utterly disappointed by your mother’s hair-stylin’ skillz. (Or lack thereof.)
5) Cutting potatoes. I know this seems like an odd item to include, but I’ve seriously had a complex about it my whole life. When most people cut their potatoes, they cut them into smooth, crisp lines and perfectly shaped pieces. My potato falls apart on me every time, and when I’m done it looks like a hacked, crumbled mess. It really boggles my mind. What am I doing differently than everyone else? I like to blame the potato but that’s something an entitled college student would do, so I’ll own up to my failures and acknowledge that it’s all me.
I could probably go on and on, but I’ve humbled myself enough for one day. My point is, I know I’m bad at these things and always will be. In school, I had to work really hard at math and art because otherwise my grades would have tanked. This involved lots of tears and frustration, but I made it through. And you will, too.
And now you know why I never make potatoes.