See me through his eyes

Perfect is in the perspective.

I used to be happy I was me, because then I didn't have to look at myself everyday.

I was imperfect.

I used to clam up and look awkwardly away near those random faces in my classes, because I didn't feel adult enough to actually speak.

My words were imperfect.

I used to sit and wonder why I wasn't thin like them because, let's face it, I wasn't thin like them.
My body was imperfect.

But now there's people saying

"You're just gorgeous"

"You're so cute"

"You're so funny"

"You're so thin"

"You have the perfect body"

The perfect body?

That's something that has escaped me since elementary...the perfect body... Me? Perfect? Me? Thin?

We got to talking Sunday in church about ura and omote, which are (if I'm remembering correctly) Japanese philosophical terms which simply mean "the internal view of self" (ura), and "the outside world or the way it's viewed" (omote). And out teacher asked,

"Which is more real?"

And the boy next to me responded, "Most people would say it's omote, but I disagree. The ura changes the omote."

We see the world in a different light. Each of us. Why? Because we each have our own ura, our own view of ourselves, and our view of selves affects our view of the world.

So why can they call me perfect and thin? Why can they tell me what I am sure I am not?

Their ura is not mine. Their omote is not mine.

Perfect is in the perspective.

Perhaps we should just change ours.