Blazing the Trail of Love: John's Extraordinary Journey

There was a time when I believed everyone was beautiful. It wasn't a belief, it was fact.

I remember being four years old and looking at my mother's eyes. I told her she was beautiful and she laughed. She said that she wasn't beautiful, but she could be if she wanted to be. She took me in front of the mirror, we both looked into each other's eyes, and we smiled at our reflections. My mother taught me to see her beauty in her eyes, but also her flaws, such as her crooked teeth. Beauty is more than the face you see in the mirror. Beauty is more than what you see in others. Beauty is everywhere, even in the most mundane things: in a crushed piece of paper, in the sound of rain ravaging against the windowpanes, in a bird's feather, wet from rain and water droplets hanging on its wings -- every single thing holds beauty within it.

I'm writing this because my perspective on my own beauty has shifted.

I can still see the beauty of others around me, but I no longer see it within myself. I can no longer appreciate the beauty of a bird's feather or a piece of paper or a cracked wall or even my own reflection. When I first noticed my hair falling out, altering my appearance, I didn't know whom to blame: God or myself? My mother taught me that there was nothing wrong with being different, that everyone has their own beauty and everyone must find their own path to happiness and fulfilment in this lifetime. However, I began questioning her wisdom, wondering whether she lied about my beauty and why she wasn't completely honest about how society may perceive me. I wished my father had played a larger role in raising me so that he could have shared his unique insights on life, love, and acceptance with me as well.

Having lived here for eight months now, I find myself reminiscing on my past and the relationships I've formed. One such relationship is with Lucas, my roommate. We share a small apartment, making it easy for us to walk together after work and constantly discuss how we can improveme our lives, both together and individually. Lucas' genuine laughter and joy remind me of my mother's teachings about finding beauty in the world.

Despite some negativity around us, Lucas remains open-hearted and kind to everyone he encounters. He accepts people of all races, religions, and sexual orientations, showcasing his belief that there is inherent beauty within each person. When we were targeted by hate speech written on our door, Lucas chose to react with love and understanding rather than anger. He made a bold statement in response, proclaiming his defiance against those who preach hatred and discrimination.

The next day, police officers visited our apartment to inquire about the previous night's incident. They questioned why Lucas had chosen not to file charges, seemingly perplexed when he claimed that he wanted justice for all those affected by hate rather than simply seeking retribution for this specific instance. The conversation shifted in a confusing turn as one police officer asked Lucas why he had written 'Fuck Trump!' outside our apartment amid this ordeal.

In this interconnected web of life experiences, challenges, and relationships, I am reminded that while beauty can be found in many places, so too can hatred and injustice. Our task is to continue fighting for acceptance and understanding, choosing love over fear every step of the way.