Fatal Flaw

Sometimes I am surprised at the irony of my feelings.

I go to extremes to improve me.  I work on both my mind and body, striving to make them the best I can, wanting to be the best I can.

And for whom do I do this?

I know I am supposed to say me.

But the truth is I do it for those I love.  Don’t misunderstand, I am pleased with the results, but I am even happier when those I love notice and are proud or happy about it.

The flip side of this is that I don’t really want or expect them to do the same thing.  I love them for exactly who they are and it doesn’t really matter to me what they look like, or do, as long as they are healthy and happy.

Why can’t I believe everyone else feels the same way?

Perhaps it is experience and perhaps it is something else.  Either way these feelings have been the sometimes nearly fatal flaw that have followed me all my life.