If I Want Your Opinion, I'll Give It To You

I'm not sure what it is about me or my personality, that makes people think they can just say anything that they want to say about me. To me. As if I would greatly value their opinion. Of me.

Don't misunderstand, I love that my friends and family feel close enough to me that they can share their innermost thoughts and feelings without worrying of what I will think of them or their thoughts, or who I will tell. I'm not talking about those people in my life or those relationships. I greatly value all of my close relationships. Period.

Who I'm talking about now are those people in my life that apparently think they and their opinion matter to me. Acquaintance is probably the appropriate word for them. Most of them are nice enough, but we're not friends.

While traveling in the Mediterranean, there was a particular lady, that loved to share her opinion of me with me. One of the nicer things she said to me was this, "You know, you would look so much younger and thinner if you would cut that hair."

As you can imagine, I was so appreciative of her opinion. It was clearly helpful and uplifting.:P

This past week, a man I'll just call "Hank Hill," saw me (after not having seen me for a couple of years) and said, "You still look good. It's a world of difference than how you used to look. A world of difference." He said this as he looked at me and smiled. As if every word out of his mouth would mean so much to me. Like I would be so grateful for his "approval" of me now.

If you are a friend or relative of mine, then you already know, his words did not impress or compliment me. At all.

I realize, that he "thought" he was "complimenting" me. But that is not a compliment to me. Or any woman. The only thing I heard coming out of his mouth were these words, "I approve of you now."

I have family and friends that have "approved" of me for my entire life. They have loved me no matter what my appearance was at the time. Because they love me. Not my outer shell.

I have a husband that has loved me through short hair and long hair. Good highlights and really, really bad highlights. Overweight and less overweight. Without stretch marks and with many stretch marks. He loved me walking normally, and he loved me as I walked around limping for 18 months following my back surgery. He walked with me....and held my hand through all of it.

He has always approved of me. He loves me on the inside. He loves me on the outside. Exactly as I am. I feel the same way about him.

That is how we are supposed to love each other.

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” ~1 Samuel 16:7

I don't appreciate anyone that can be friendly to me now, because they finally "approve" of me. Their friendliness means nothing.

However, the friends and family that have been with me and loved me through thick and thin (physically and spiritually) mean everything to me.

I don't mean to imply that I don't appreciate a nice compliment (especially about my hair), because I do. I just like compliments from people that mean the words they say, and from people that I know love me even when there is nothing about me to compliment.

Now, since I'm on the subject of appearance, I feel like I should tell you all that I went to the eye doctor this morning. I have now officially been given a prescription for Bifocal lenses.

I'm thinking they make me look like the Nanny's Grandma Yetta. What do you think?



Seriously, you can give me your opinion. Don't be scared. I won't do a blog post on your response; I promise.;0)

Well, at least my sweet husband loves me no matter how ridiculous I look what I look like. God bless him.

I wonder what "Hank Hill" will say the next time he sees me, and I'm wearing the new glasses. Probably something like, "It's a world of difference than how you used to look. A world of difference." ;0)



"He who laughs.....lasts." ~Erma Bombeck