The Dented Can

People always say, I do my best thinking in the [fill in the blank here]. For me, that fill in the blank is that moment when I’m lying in bed, right before I fall asleep. Last night was one of those nights. I was about to doze off to sleep when I had a great moment of clarity. It wasn’t so much “best thinking” as just a gigantic realization.

I’ve talked a lot here about my insecurities, my difficulties overcoming letting my disability define me and my preoccupation with how I look and with my limp. I realized last night that I’m not totally out of the woods on all that. Not that such a huge change of perspective really could happen overnight, or even in a matter of months anyway. I realized that as I walk through the world and look for a potential partner or even just someone to start off dating, I still have this cloud over my head. Only it’s more in my brain that over my head. It almost feels like an aura around me.

I realized that because of my limp, I feel like a defective can on the production line. The kind that has a big dent at the top. It looks like every other can except for that one thing. That one dent. And when that can gets to the grocery store, someone is going to look at it and maybe consider buying it for a second, but then they’re going to pick up the non-dented can directly next to it on the shelf. When I look at guys I encounter in my day-to-day life if I deem him of a certain level of attractiveness I usually end up thinking “he would never date me.” I’m sure that he would much rather have the non-dented, bleach blonde, big boobed, tan girl standing next to me. This is the very thought pattern that got me into a year long relationship with someone who was so horribly wrong for me in so many ways. He was incredibly attractive to me and I didn’t think I would ever do any better because I was “defective.”

So yeah, a pretty heavy and not so uplifting thought at first. But as I kept thinking, I realized that yes I may have a dent but I am still a can just like all the others and I still have the same ingredients inside as all the other cans do. And someday, I will still make someone’s stomach very happy. Next time I find myself starting to slip back into the negative thinking, I’m going to remember that.

2 thoughts on “The Dented Can

  1. Nice post. You have no idea how mature you are and how much emotional intelligence you have. Everyone has their ups and downs, and dents, bruises, scars… it’s a nice reminder that we all have the ability to pick ourselves up and remember we are great no matter what 🙂

  2. Well now you’ve ruined grocery shopping for me with dented cans. 🙂

    First off, there are lots of us that don’t prefer the bleached blond, big boobed, tan girls. Second, I only know you through your blog, but you have a lot going for you, so please don’t ever talk yourself out of approaching a guy. You never know if the one you pass up might be the one looking at you, wanting to ask you out, but just can’t get up the nerve.

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