There is an image floating around the internet and it hit a nerve with me…
I think this is beautiful. I think everyone should read this and take a good long think about what it means. I also think it projects the wrong image of what happens when someone is hurt.
A broken plate is the wrong metaphor for a broken person.
When you break a plate, you say “whoops”, sweep it up and toss it in the trash. You buy another.
When you shatter a person into a million miniscule pieces you don’t throw them in the trash. You don’t ignore what you did. You don’t place the blame on that person instead of on yourself and you don’t tell them how bad you feel that it happened.
You man up. You woman up. You work your best to take each individual piece of glass and glass-dust and you glue it and mold it back into what may not be the same, but could be better than before.
When I was younger I visited my friends a few hours away. They had a special cup: red, plastic, and with a small chip on the side. They would moan and groan over it, each sister wishing to drink from it with their meal. Each wanting the imperfect glass because the small chip taken from the side made the cup more perfect and more desirable than ever.
I find people to be the same way. You can find someone beaten down, broken, or distressed, and realize that one person is more incredible than the people who have it all figured out. The ones that keep on trucking are the ones worth pursuing, and if I was ever the type of person to throw a plate on the ground and put it in the trash, I am so sorry to the mess it left behind. Someday I hope to be lucky enough to glue the pieces back together, one by one.