When it’s all Worthwhile

04.02.15 (Day 408)


Just lately I’ve been deriding my doubters and those who just can’t find it within themselves to recognise that I’ve changed from the person they hated, for whatever personal reasons; people who can’t even be bothered to meet me to give me the opportunity to prove myself. Blinkered people, too proud perhaps to admit that even if they weren’t wrong back then, they are now.

These are people who seem to be of the attitude that if you can’t say anything nasty, say nothing at all. I have many examples of the poison I’ve been sent by people whom I once considered friends. I chose not to post their comments here and conducted many debates in private with them. I further chose to never be friends with them again.

But there are people with nice things to say; lots in fact. I’m not gloating but in case any of my haters are reading, I thought I’d share. Like London buses, three came along at once. The first two were messages posted to my timeline on facebook, so anyone who doubts their authenticity can be the defective detectives they always were, trot along and check. Then keep trotting. On the subject of my writing and me in general, having watched me over time:

“You always were a deep person… I want to see you. I think of you every day…”

“Have you ever met a person once and they made an impression you know will last a lifetime? Steve Laker you probably don’t even remember meeting me at Tonbridge station that one time but you made your mark, I’ve still got the poem you knocked up there and then for my little girl, thank you for that and seeing how well things seem to be going for you now, I’d just like to say well done, you deserve to be a published author because quite frankly, you’re awesome.”

And I get lots more verbal positive comments and gratitude from those around me. Emails too:

“Hey, I have my college interview today at 2. I’m so nervous. I hope it goes well because I want to make you proud. I have lost all trust in the man I should call dad, but I put all my trust in a man I’ve known for six months maybe. You gained my trust within a day. One sentence and I was sold. I gained a best friend, a counsellor and most importantly a DAD.

I love you…..dad xxxxxx”

That’s from one of my teens; the teens who some sneer at me for being with. But as I’ve said before, I don’t hang around with them. I don’t go to them. They come to me. Judge if you wish but I have done good out here. The people who think there might be something odd about being close to some teenagers think so because they themselves think it inappropriate and assume there might be something sexual going on. The problem is not in my mind; it’s theirs.

And never forgetting one of my other favourite teens, who I’m spending a lot of time with and with whom I am very close: my fold-up clingy, stick-on thing. Love you little person.

You lot are what makes it all worthwhile. I can take the judging and laugh at it, as long as I know I’m doing right and you keep telling me I am. Those of you I’ve helped out though, you did it yourselves. I just happened to be there and maybe lent a helping hand. I did persuade one of you not to end your life, so perhaps I’ll take the credit for that one. I could never lose any of my kids and one day I’ll get my biological ones back too.

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