As a young girl I was blessed with parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles who encouraged me, laughed at my antics, taught me lessons, and compelled me to predict everyone I met would like me.However, the real world introduced Ruth Anne Rooney where I discovered the secret that not everyone treated me like the people who loved me most. I felt entitled to a fairy tale life because being taught if I followed the rules, loved Jesus, and changed my underwear daily—happily ever after becomes attainable . But as life marched on, my lucky charms seemed to come out of a cereal box with my faith written on a post-it note, which left me grappling with self-respect. Without the thought of self-respect I grudgingly ran a video in my mind starring every belly flop I’ve endured with raw footage braided into each frame. Oh, I drank wine, took Ambien, anything not to face my transgressions until — as a last resort, I began to wrestle with self-respect. This meant coming face to face with my failures where a smile or southern accent did not equal charisma, where I discovered a wolf in sheep’s clothing slept in my bed, where I got hiccups from crying so hard, then me and me met in a dark alley and shook hands. …show more content…
Yet, most of my assistance ended with those I “helped” taking advantage of me until my resentment cut them off. Continuing to look into my deeper tunnels I dug up my enjoyment in “helping” people generated the appearance of being a good person. It turns out that self-respect has nothing to do with approval from others, a resume, or likes on Facebook. Self-respect is a lonely, courageous