ODE TO UGLY
Why do we humans have such an obsession with perfection?
I have to admit, I too suffer from this obsession. Often choosing the nicest looking apple, the most unblemished bunch of flowers. But then most of my life I have chosen the dented can in the supermarket aisle, or the broken chocolate bar – like I’m going to save them from a life time of rejection.
I don’t know.
One of my daughters has cerebral palsy. Most people look at her and see disability – looks different, moves unusually. I understand – sometimes I look at her that way too. But what if I hadn’t been brought up with the idea of perfection?
What if there were no ‘normal’?
What if the scars on my daughter’s body were not labelled ‘imperfections’?
What if I were to have a Facebook page full of photos of what the world considers ‘ugly’ and ‘imperfect’? Would I only have a few ‘likes’ – only family and friends who were being kind to me?
What if the photos were of Hayley’s scars, my stretchmarks, my husband’s slightly crooked nose, a wilted half dead rose?
Would that make me negative? A pessimist? Depressed?
Or would it be that I can see the beauty in something usually perceived as imperfect, maybe even ugly?
I don’t know.
Maybe.