I’ve been told I’m too sensitive for my own good, usually by insensitive clods who really mean I am too sensitive for their own comfort.
I’ve been told I’m too smart for my own good, usually by tricksters who failed to trick me.
I’ve been told I’m too pretty for my own good. Whatever, the pretty has long since faded.
Sometimes I wish I weren’t so smart.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so afraid of my beauty, back when I still had it.
But I’ve never regretted my tender heart. I like that sappy commercials bring tears to my eyes and some movies make me flat out sob. I like tearing up when I read tender stories and witness acts of kindness. I’m glad that my sister had to insist that I not see Schindler’s List. I’m glad I have to quickly turn the channel whenever the Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty commercial comes on. Because I never want to be the kind of person who can stand seeing that.