“Most girls would listen to one thing I say and would think I’m a total jerk.”

A friend of mine told me this today in the course of telling me why he thinks I’m cool. He’s not wrong–he’s obnoxious and gives me crap EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I see him. It’s okay, though. It’s part of his charm.

But “tough” is how he described me–and tough is what apparently made him decide to be my friend.

I don’t get it.

I’m not tough.

Why don’t people get this?

Tough is my mom. Tough is someone rising above amazingly terrible circumstances and coming out of it more cheerful and full of hope than ever. Tough is being able to face a task like a dissertation and not cower with fear before it. Tough is being able to speak out loud, even to yourself, what you really want in the deepest and tiniest corner of your heart, the ridiculous dreams that even you don’t want to admit to yourself.

Tough is not me.

I just don’t see it.

2 Responses to “tough”

  1. Sometimes other people see you in a way that you would never see yourself. For example, how in the world does my boyfriend see me as skinny when I see Rosie O’Donnell in the mirror 🙂 !

  2. Toughness, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. They compare one aspect of us, with one aspect of themselves. The math’s a bit off, but the compliment is sincere nonetheless.

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