Cotton Candy and Petrified Starbursts

        Someone once told me I laughed too loud. I don’t know if I actually do…I probably, most definitely do, but is this even a thing?

 
        You know what else?  I once had a girl tell me I give too many compliments. It wasn’t the lack of sincerity or the target of my compliments that bothered her, it was the fact that it “lost meaning” when I gave so many people a compliment, apparently it made her feel not “as special”.  Seriously?!?  Is THIS even a thing? 

Can people really be offended because you think they’re hysterical or because you think they have great hair?  Are these the same people who hate puppies, ice cream, rainbows, and fuzzy things?

Honestly though—I now think twice about how jovially I enjoy a joke.  I don’t as effortlessly tell people what I enjoy about them.  And these are just silly things.  There are other parts of me that I’ve dulled to fit into a more acceptable version of myself.  Sometimes it’s because when you have a big personality you run the risk of suffocating what I like to call the “cotton candy people”.  These are soft and delicate and sweet and dear people…and much like cotton candy can easily melt, I fear they may melt under the intensity of my personality which could probably be more accurately described as a petrified Starburst.  (A little tart, might break your teeth, but after chewing for a bit realize is more pliable than originally thought, and you’d fight your 5-year-old for your favorite flavor.)

Here’s the thing…all my life I’ve wanted to be more like the cotton candy.  I’ve tried desperately to be the cotton candy, but I just can’t. Being sweet and dear just aren’t my most defining qualities. So when I can’t fit the mold, I just try to round off my edges, be a little less me.

 But every once in a while, I see a girl who is unapologetically herself and she totally rocks it!  She laughs a lot and it’s loud! Or sometimes she’s a gentle spirit who is at peace with her quiet nature. She may speak effortlessly to anyone around her or be a master listener. And no matter if her edges are rough or delicate and fluffy, she doesn’t use fear as her steering wheel, nurturing her insecurities just a little longer, living just a little less than she really wants.

When I see others being brave, I want to be brave too.  It feels like a permission slip has been signed and I have the freedom to live proud.  And I can’t help but wonder if I lived loud, if it would give permission for someone else to live just as courageously.  And when they start living shamelessly, I want to be the one who cheers for them. Because when I take steps that are scary, I want someone cheering for me.  (And let’s face it, as a girl who has spent most of her life as a Starburst, I’m always looking for a good reason to party!)

So here it is…you have my permission to be big or small, cotton candy or a petrified Starburst…but be who you be! 

And when you are, I’m going to be there (probably in costume because everyone knows themed parties are more fun), cheering and celebrating what God has chosen you to live for.  And you can cheer for me too…so long as my loud laugh won’t bother you!