today we were told – not for the first time, not the last – that we tend to be difficult. that we are harder on others than what’s necessary. than what’s rightful. some things better left unsaid. better left unnoticed.
to accept someone as they are, as they will, has been a difficult notion for bras and ranties to come to blanket terms. egocentric as it may be, we tend to liken ourself an intuit, radar often ringing before proof shows her face. sometimes just a feeling telling us we know better (it needn’t be said we are most often correct, but we will anyway)
to accept someone as they are. to forgive them their trespasses. is it the truest form of love, of friendship? or is it turning a blind eye to those thus removed?
perhaps bras and ranties is new to the boundaries (transient childhood rearing its head once more) and are blindly hopping as yet traversed, transparent lines. creeping up too close. sending her reeling from the heat. this place not ours to tread.
while we do our very best to refrain from pointing out the obvious irony, we will instead say this. to accept someone as they are is empathy. to accept someone as they are is humanism. it’s love. let it be learnt.