Lessons learned from a man named Robert

A friend once told me that people come into your life for reasons, seasons or a lifetime. It amazes me that some lessons can come from the most untraditional source, someone who is briefly in your life. For me, it is a man named Robert. 

Never judge a book by its cover. It is an old lesson I try and live my life by, especially after meeting Robert. His life story, passion, humour and confidence in who he, quickly taught me that there is so much more to a person than the exterior.

It’s not what you are, it’s about who you are. This lesson combines with the one above. Who you are is what is inside of you – your gender, race, hair colour and eye colour doesn’t matter. What matters is who you are. 

Fairy tales happen. Robert and his wife’s love, and like of each other, blossomed from friendship, through one of the biggest transformations a man could go through. Real life fairy tales are when your partner knows your past, goes through your present with you and is willing to be there in your future. 

There is a difference between love and like. This was probably one of the hardest lessons I have ever had to learn. I remember Robert asking me once if I like my boyfriend, my immediate reaction was “I love him”. It was only when I found myself in a situation where I truly loved someone, but no longer liked them, that Robert’s words came flooding back to me – “you can love someone with your whole heart, but do you like the person?”

Know who you are. This lesson inspired the blog entry you are reading now. A few years ago Robert signed my copy of “Trans”, his life story appears in the book. At the time I looked at the message and though, “how odd, what is that suppose to mean?” A few days ago I picked up the book and read the message again, I now get it;

And to answer Robert’s question from back then, no, “Foxy” was never a part of my identity.

It is a message from a man named Robert that made me realise I know who I am – the good and the bad – I know.

I must confess, I am disappinted

I love children’s novels. I have a section on my bookshelf dedicated to Roald Dahl, Hans Anderson, Dr Seuss, A.A Milne, and my two prized possessions – my first fairy tale book (received sometime between 1983 and 1984 from my godparents) and my first children’s Bible, which was a Christmas present from my grandparents. 

My most recent acquisition is the Beatrix Potter collection. Some of my favourite tales, all wrapped in a gorgeous box;

Over the weekend I read The Tales Of Two Bad Mice. I nearly cried. On page 18 I spotted the following; “Hunca Munca had another disappintment.” Disappintment? 

I must confess, I am disappointed with the editors at Frederick Warne & Co. and I am fairly sure Ms Potter would be just as disappointed. I have not been able to get past it and read another tale, much to my disappintment.