Reading A Post

I was looking at a post from someone else’s Blog.

The person writes about how she/he wishes that they could be like other folks, but she/he can’t. In essence this individual feels that they are ugly, fat…… (you fill in the blanks)

A lot of sympathy was welled up from the public, yes it is true (rightly so).

Some critique, tempered with consideration, good intentions, and positive comments to encourage.

I think one used some kind of tough love (not sure that it was love).

Some posted some formulas and recommended various clinical systems out there in the road maps of therapy.

To those who were sympathetic and kind, the response from the blogger was one of gratitude. Thanks.

Most of those who made suggestions and criticisms were answered with no answers.

Now, I was moved, yes, by the post.

My prime observations are;

A) Since no, pictures, descriptions were posted, we have no way of knowing how severe, if any, physical anomalies exist for this individual (other than the obvious, note, “fat”).

B) Yes it is true, primarily this could be a innate thing. Innately she/he has to not like themself, assess self as ugly, displeasing in total, self dissatisfied.

C) And yes, both systems of assessments, might be working together.

But one thing I would caution against;

The need to perpetuate this conclusion about self. The need learned, behavior anchored into one’s psyche, which could evaluate into a identification with value. IE; A practice which needs to be allowed to dominate one’s portrayals, that one would be allowed to find security, a roleplay that fits like a satelite’s trajectory which insures perpetuity, purpose, comfort around various planets in a system.

In this case the planets would symbolize her/his family. In the home is where our first sense of self worth is established.

That casing, the home, is so crucial. For our self worth, self evaluation, it is like oxygen is to the body.

All the personages of that home, build “value” roles opposite one another.

Once this is written in stone, we keep this, because our sense of value is relative to what we interpret as “love”, which of course, isn’t.

How can one throttle this promise, this seal of relevance to a romantic thing where value was learned.

So hard, it becomes to discard this. Tradition. Warmth. Such a unimpeachable oath.

Our first experience with self worth. The Family.

How painful it would be to diminish, discard this or to allow others to tarnish this memory.

Our allegiance is that of a child.

Sealed with a kiss.

A self sacrifice, out of “love”.

I can be reached at, and, and at face book as Miguel Angel Oquendo, And at And the blog;


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