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I once went accused of looking at life through rose-colored glasses.  I say “accused” because it just so happens that those who said it to me were yelling it at me!  Gosh, can’t a girl just be herself?  I didn’t see anything wrong with viewing life from that angle.  Life was prettier; much safer; and all was well with me and the world.  Well, hehe…truth be told: I did run into a few problems when viewing life through rose-colored glasses.  I thought things that were not as though they were.  Now, don’t get this confused with the lovely biblical verse; that suggestion is an entirely correct and fruitful concept, what Paul the Apostle recommends that we do.  What I’m talking about is rather different.

For example, when attracted to a boy…or a young man…since this quirkiness lasted right through to my late twenties!  I constantly envisioned the fairytale kind of “relationship” that he and I would have; sweet romance; gentle love; laughter and playing…house; and always this turned out quite opposite from the truth!  And always was I found crying, “But I thought he cared!  We were so perfect together and for each other!  Waa…waa…waa!”  Yeah…in my dreams, thanks to those rose-colored glasses!

I’ll never forget a major crush I had on a young man…he was a year younger than me, and, oh boy, was I going to live out the fantasy, the situation, with him, precisely as I saw it, whence wearing my glasses!  I got all dressed up one night and headed to our favorite dance club with some friends, to meet up with him.

This is me, that night: 1989 

After a while, I sat there, on the side of the room, for what seemed hours, just people-watching and waiting for him to make his appearance known.  The longer the clock ticked, the more I got to growing dismayed… and wondering, has he stood me up?  Could this be possible?

He stood me up, alright!  He showed up, saw me, waved hello and then acted as if he didn’t know me.  This incident shook me to the core!  I remained calm, though, and distant from him.  By my smile, no one could have ever guessed that, deep down inside, I was a student in the school of hard knocks and going through some sort of strange testing.  This incident was the last time that I wore my rose-colored glasses!  He was the “messenger” that ripped them right from me and made me see that not all was as it seemed in my imagination.  That I had the bad habit, of viewing only the good in people, in situations, and in life, and that I had to be very careful about that, lest I always end up fooled.

To this day, I’m not sure that I appreciate looking at life in its plain form.  In some instances, it works, but in other instances I prefer my rose-colored glasses, for they lessen the impact of any ugliness there be in this world.  …  I miss the extra effect that my “rose-colored” glasses offered me.  At one time, I owned a much broader and vivid place inside my imagination; I could “daydream” the good stuff with more ease, more clarity; those visages pumped with far more color and energy than they do today and had the ability to help me live out the wonder of them all.

Today, things are different: they ring more bland and uneventful, up there, in the regions of my mind.  Perhaps the time has come that I return to that place and, once again, pick up those viewers and see that unique world through my rose-colored glasses.  …

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