Smurfette

My boyfriend and I had a great time last night. We went to the Squeeze concert (80s British pop) and in the parking lot were approached by a homeless man. He gave me his story about how he just got out of the hospital and didn’t have money to eat. Normally, I’m in too much of a hurry for this sort of thing. But I ended up giving him $7 and a big hug and told him “God bless you”.

My boyfriend made fun of me for that. But I just laughed. It’s $7…who cares? Later as I was singing and dancing my ass of in the concert my boyfriend was trying to tell me something. All I heard was “smurfette” over the loud music.

He was saying that I reminded him of Smurfette, the cartoon character. Why, I asked? He said, because I’m just so whimsical! And he was laughing as he said it.

The old me would have been hurt by his remark. Whimsical? When I first received the label “bipolar” I felt like a freak. I wanted to be “normal”. One of the greatest blessings about growing older is that you don’t care anymore about what people think. Labels don’t hurt anymore. In fact, I took this as a compliment, laughed along with him and said thank you!

It really was a wonderful night 😀

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