If there is one thing I am overtly familiar with it is those who don’t know me, but who still feel they have the right to stand in judgment of me, and pronounce me less than worthy. It’s an attitude that I have been well acquainted with since childhood. Usually it happens when I fail to give someone whatever they desire from me. And in denying them, it always, always, comes to their spleen turning to prejudice and unmasks what is bred in their bones.
I have few of those who I would call friend. Many are called but few are chosen. I have experienced few betrayals because I chose my friends with prudence and care. For those who can count me as friend - know me, as one who will always give them the freedom to be whatever they choose to be. I will not impose my will upon them or attempt to remake them in any image – even for their alleged greater good. I will not ask them to justify or explain, but I have faith, given time, that their state of mind will reveal what lies in their heart’s desire. I never call my friends to account - it is enough for them simply to be.
I am intensely private person. It may seem like a contradiction, me being a blogger who throughout my blogging years has written extensively about my children and family, but there are many, many doors in my world which are too sacred to expose or render directly to the gaze of the crowd. From those who call me friend - I expect no less.
I do things in my own way and my own time. I have never been one to embrace the group, as my experience has led me to believe that groups often morph into the madding crowd - which will eventually turn, and bay for the blood of someone’s flesh. And survival runs strong in my psyche. So instead, I act on the peripheral, the edge of the crowd, usually alone and out of plain sight. Because of this, I stand, today, accused of a lack of empathy, compassion, morals and "class". Oh well, and so it goes. Take your best shot but know this - I am the Wolf in sheep’s clothing.
