The Crap T-Shirt

A post about self worth

The Crap T-shirt

“You’re nothing”

Said a voice that sounded a little like mine but weaker…….and it gut-punched me.

I felt like a piece of crap avoided in the road and stupidly I let that thought become me.

So much so, I wore it as a T-shirt.

“I’m nothing”

It called as thought grew form then crawled across my wounded all.

Beneath the words “I’m nothing”, sat cartoonish violins and bows. They played moon-ish tunes that mourned my woes as screeched balloons.

Passers by courted the fiddles as loyal, sad-eyed blood hounds, whilst others laughed, contemplating why I’d wear such a crap T-Shirt.

People started to swerve me, the loser in the crap T-shirt.

Whilst others, envied the attention it got.

Before I knew it, I had a rain cloud following me, like that scruffy kid in Charlie Brown.

For a while that T-shirt felt like my best friend. There it sat, ready to wear each day, grubby, crumpled, ugly but so damn dependable. In a world of change, it was good to be able to rely on this wardrobe staple.

Grey was the new black, right?

One day, a voice asked where it had come from.

“It’s a hand me down. It was given to me.”

I snapped back, convincingly.

I was certain it had come about by means of *bad stuff* people had said and done over the years. It was meant for me alone.

“Are you sure?”

said the voice.

“Because……..it looks kind of homemade to me. I think there’s A LOT of time and investment gone into making that crap T-shirt…..but…..I bet it’s soooo comfy, right? Never having to worry about fitting in or standing out, ‘cause people just accept you as……well….shit. The cut must feel so liberating!”

Hmm… Was it? Did it feel liberating?

I checked the fit and as I did, started to wonder if actually…….. it was a little clingy.

Damned thing was cleaving like ivy around my chest, especially the area right by my heart. It felt so tight and sad there, the way it held me in.

Hmm, could prove hard to remove!

Also, I felt self-conscious stripping off in front of the world, it being a stranger to my true self and all that…..

But I was determined, even if I had to rip myself out of it.

And when I was, finally free of its constraints and stood naked and healing, I breathed in the fresh, new air.

I searched my soul like a wardrobe of lost dreams, found a red T-shirt I liked much better.

Much more my colour.

It said;

“Worthy”

Didn’t need the big “I am”.

Each letter hooted protectively as a branch of proud Mama owls across my chest.

And now, I pop like cherries walking down that road.

Light bouncing and dinging…… July on a leash of mirror.

Instantly, Iife treats me differently.

And I feel better.

(Most days)