It’s been an interesting week.
Warning: it’s probably best to read the next sentence slowly as it’s kind of a mish-mash of words.
Do you ever find yourself unexpectedly led to contemplate things about your life that you are challenged to understand the purpose or relevance of in that given moment?
That’s been happening to me this week. A particularly sweet and gifted student of mine indirectly, and without any intention to do so, caused me to do a bit of reflecting about the past. This included a trip through some old photos. At the same time, a dear and remarkably gracious friend of mine mentioned a topic and called it “his kryptonite.” The comment stuck with me though I wouldn’t put two and two together until the student caused me to go on a trip down memory lane.
Before I go any further, let me just say for those who do not know, kryptonite is the fictional element that renders Superman completely defenseless. When people say something (or someone) is their kryptonite, they’re basically saying that that is the concept, thing, or person that reflects a wound or a weakness for them. So, with that said, I’m going to share with you “my kryptonite.”
My kryptonite is my appearance. Yes, by that I mean the way I physically look. We can start by tagging this as #daddyissues. I was not exactly the son my dad had in mind. On the other hand, my sister was kind of perfect. Beauty queen by 5 years old. In her growing up, my stunningly beautiful baby sis would be homecoming queen (twice), college cheerleader, and also smart and good at sports.
I think as a kid I internalized that as “She’s pretty and therefore lovable. You’re apparently not lovable (by dad) therefore you must not be pretty.”
Crazy the ideas we subconsciously create. And yet – to this very day – I am oblivious to any compliments or flirtation that might come my way. Friends have to point it out and even then, I don’t really believe them.
Facing our kryptonite is not always easy and it’s also quite difficult to rationalize. My mind knows that my dad was very handsome. My eyes know that I look very much like him. But my subconscious (or ego) can’t reconcile those concepts. That’s the thing about kryptonite… it’s not necessarily logical. But it can be debilitating.
Turns out, I was actually pretty handsome. I loved the gym (still do) and in retrospect with more objective eyes, I guess I was rather cute. Here’s a pic of me when I was young and trying to wrestle with a puppy of mine that was a handful.
So why now? Why is this coming up in this moment? I rarely think about this anymore. I do photo shoots regularly for my work without giving it a second thought. So why should old wounds get dredged up now?
After giving this a lot of thought, here’s what I’ve figured out:
Absolutely nothing. LOL!
But the Universe is magical. It’s powerful and it doesn’t ask us to face our kryptonite for no reason. I have total faith in that. So, I will continue to contemplate this. I am also always happy to be of service to the Divine. Maybe it’s not my kryptonite that so much needs to be dealt with.
Could it be yours? Could this be coming up for me right now so that I can write this blog so that you can see it?
What is your kryptonite? Is it holding you back? Is it time to find a cure for your kryptonite?
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