So, I have to type out today’s post prompt because I’m terrified of being viewed as one of those Kardashi….you know. I shan’t taint my post with the ridiculous. I only write about the impossible and the invisible.
“My personal brand. As a Health Activist, you are a front-facing leader. What do you imagine you look like to your readers? What qualities do you possess. It’s ok to toot your own horn today – you have full permission to indulge. And don’t hold back.”
I’ll be honest with you…I’m grossly uncomfortable with anything remotely associated with “tooting”…be it a public fluffe or a horn. I suspect the only “front-facing” I do is akin to when I rammed my forehead, face first, into the banister whilst picking up little people’s socks earlier this evening…
Yet, here we are. Just you. Just me. “Communicating.” I’m “speaking”…you’re “listening”…you can’t see me, but you can begin to form an “image” of me in your head. Y’know…someone says, “Nike”…and you see that little checkmark thingamajig in your head? That. But, y’know…with ME.
I admit, I cheated today…I posted the topic asking my friends how they “see” me as a “front-facing leader”…a health activist.
Funny thing. The told me to go read the comments (on my prior blog posts). They spewed forth adjectives that made my eyes all wet-like (filed under *wth?*). And I thought…no, No, NO!! “I mean, as a health activist!!!”
Funny thing. They’re one and the same.
My ability to wake up each day and face it (read: ALL of “this” – pointing at myself) head on. Courage. Fearlessness. Compassion. My Viking, badass self.
The list was long, actually…and I’m far to blushy (shut up) to write them all…but suffice it to say this:
Lupus, I’m going to kick you in the ass. If you’re going to make my life hell, you’re going to need to work harder than that. Heads up, I’m already one step ahead of you.
I’m going to spend my time searching for information to pass to other people whose lives you’re screwing up (a modest term) so that THEY, in turn, can proceed to kick your ass (although they’ll have to take a number…first come, first served).
I’m going to make sure that when I walk my I’ve-earned-this-ass up to Parliament Hill that the Mayor DOES know about it because I’m going to write to him. I think I’ll copy it to the newspapers.
I’m going to educate and inform people ALL around the world (because you’re such an equal-opportunity fucker-upper) about treatments and health options that aren’t so mainstream because if *I* can find something that helps the plethora of misery you bestow upon me, I’m sure a shit going to share it.
I’m going to continue to wake up every morning and do what I do in the nature of the chaos of my reality because…it seems…that the very act of doing so bestows honour and worth upon my name so that if I say I’m going to do something, I’m damn well going to do it.
THAT is my strength. THAT is my endurance. THAT is my perseverance.
By continuing to spew forth all things health-related, I’m going to chase the eleventy-billion secondary afflictions I currently possess into the dark shadows of my memory.
THAT is my courage. THAT is my selflessness. THAT is my empowerment.
I choose to make my life an open book with each word I speak, with each sentence I type because I choose to make you a reality to those who would otherwise be blissfully ignorant of your spite. By doing so, I am putting a face to your name and goddamn it, I’m freakin’ BEAUTIFUL…I’m raw, I’m real and I’m giving you the mo-fo middle finger salute.
THAT is my passion. THAT is my leadership. THAT is my toughness.
The Sword and the Sun.
THAT, my nemesis, is about as Viking badass HOO-AH as you’re ever gonna get. 😉
This post was written as part of NHBPM – 30 health posts in 30 days: http://info.wegohealth.com/NHBPM