In grade school, I walked around the house with a long white towel on my head, insistent that I didn't want the kinky-coily naps that God had given me. Instead, I wanted long, straight "white-girl" hair that would blow in the wind and smell like expensive shampoo. In junior high and in high school, I so desperately wanted curves in all of the right places - not the tall, lanky legs that carried my tall, skinny frame.
In college I tried to hide my Midwestern accent and in my 20s I wore glue-on fake nails and colored my hair blonde. There was so much I didn't like about myself and I wanted desperately to look like, be like, sound like, act like and write like somebody else.
While standing at the edge of a pond not that long ago, I watched the frogs hop along the rocks, and I saw how the turtles sunned themselves so lazy-like on pieces of wood jutting out from beneath the water's edge. And within the ripples of the water, big and small fish of different shapes and colors swam around one another, seemingly content with their lot in life, as it were. So frogs leap. Turtles rest in the sun. And fish swim.
Be who you are.
Do what you do.