I just watched a remake of the movie The Miracle Worker, about Helen Keller and her teacher, Anne Sullivan. Whenever I watch this movie, I am reminded of one of the many reasons I am not a parent. If I had to deal with such an out of control child, if my kid ever bit me, smashed crockery, or had tantrums that lasted for hours, that child would not survive to adulthood. I’m sure of it. I have zero tolerance for some things, and incorrigible, bratty behavior tops that list.
There’s not a doubt in my mind that Anne Sullivan should be considered for sainthood. She was a much better woman than I will ever be. Because of her unflinching faith in Helen, because she believed in her so thoroughly and refused to give up under the harshest, most challenging of circumstances, the world got to benefit from the existence of an amazing human being. You have only to read Helen Keller’s Wikipedia Page to see just how much she contributed to society.
Even though most of us don’t face the challenges that Helen did on a daily basis, we all could use someone in our lives who believes in us, who accepts our weaknesses and yet wants to bring out the best of our personalities. I long for that.
I’m particularly conscious of this desire at this point in my life, when I’m swimming through the harsh and ominous waters of the dating world. I’m constantly told that my hair isn’t long enough, my waist isn’t thin enough, my style isn’t girly enough to be “good enough” for various and sundry men in this world.
It’s hard to maintain your self-confidence in the face of such criticism. And it’s frustrating to know deep down that I am a worthy person, and am not even being given a chance to prove it. I’m not going to try to become someone I’m not just to attract someone who doesn’t want the person I am now.
I have to keep the faith that somewhere out there is the male equivalent of an Anne Sullivan for me. Come out, come out, wherever you are. I promise I won’t throw any crockery.