Shabby Chic

I'm not one to make corny comparison normally but I had a thought last night as I fell asleep. I love shabby chic, my apartment is decorated with that in mind. I love items that are weathered and imperfect. Why is this I thought? The distress and uniqueness makes them beautiful. The damage is beautiful. I am shabby chic. I've been damaged, weathered so to speak. I've been hurt, I'm imperfect and yet it makes me unique. 

I'm not like most people I know. I didn't come from a "perfect" home but then who has? Everyone endures hardships and is hurt in one way or another. I haven't had an easy life and I think that makes me sort of special. I've had experiences that very few people have. Then again, I haven't traveled as much as some people I know. I didn't steward what finances I had very well thus preventing me from seeing the world. This is not something I seek to perpetuate. 

I'm not trying to be braggadocios by any means. I have come from humble beginnings and am still living paycheck to paycheck but I've learned a few things along the way. I've educated myself in areas that interest me. I know more random facts than most people I know. This uniqueness may be perceived as strange and frankly sometimes I am strange. I'm socially awkward sometimes, I say things I wish I wouldn't have. I beat myself up about that when I get home. Recently I've tried to stop myself from doing that by asking for forgiveness from God. I've also tried to stop worrying so much about things but repeating "I'm trusting God" to myself a few times a day.