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Author Unknown

I am not my hair, my eyes, my nose or my mouth.
I am not my skin or the shape of any of my body parts.
I am not the IQ of my brain.
I am not the sound of my voice or the volume of my laughter.

I am not my strengths or any of my weaknesses.
I am not the level of my skills.
The temple of my physical makeup is a culmination of genetics.
It reveals nothing about the person who resides within.

I take no credit or point no blame for the way I look.
My temple is perfect, as is.
This body is not who I am.
It is an exquisitely perfect dwelling for my soul.

Everything about it is exactly as it should be.
No other, anywhere, ever, could serve my soul as well.
I am not anything you can see with your eyes
or touch with your hands.

Should you judge me by that criteria,
you will never know me.
I am not a dumping ground for bias that's based on a man-made standard,
and I do not accept theprejudice it creates.

I am a union of body, mind and spirit, a trio, not a solo.
To know me, is to know yourself.

Those who hear the voice of their soul,
recognize the song in mine.
They do not stop at the front door and judge me
by the dwelling in which I reside.

With a humble sense of honor,
they knock upon the door and ask to come in.
The judgment of others does not change who I am.
Quite the opposite is true. It reveals who they are.

Those who deem me unworthy at a glance and pass me on by,
have my blessing to keep walking, for they have a long way to go.
They have not reached the point in their journey where
they are able to see and appreciate me for who I am.

I expect no more. I will accept no less.