little ogre

I’ve never minded a bit of self-deprecation. I appreciate it in others and I offer it back as a warm gesture whenever I can. I’ll partake in the jokes being made about my devotion to board game rules (not for too long though, because we need to get back to the matter at hand of working out whether you can or can’t pull that move with your piece). I’ll tell strangers the story of what happened to me in the middle of a train station platform after I ate something bad in India or the terribly embarrassing things I’ve done in the name of love. It’s easy with the big or the obvious. But then there are the subtler things. I liken them to paper cuts. Barely visible, unadvertisable, but with such a fierce sting. I have entrusted these delicate wounds and flaws only to very few. When there is trust, it’s intoxicating to share our ugliest selves, to put that little ogre out there and see it accepted, loved even. 

Let’s not assume anyone’s perfect. Let’s also not pretend to be perfect ourselves. We can be self-critical and kind to ourselves at the same time. 

And if you’re lost for someone to confide your secret to, feel free to DM me one and I’ll offer you one back in return.