say it right

I haven't really given it much thought until she pointed it out.

"Don't you get tired of asking the same questions every single day?"

My mama has a point. Every morning, before I leave for the office, I take one last look at the mirror and ask anyone who’s around, most of the time it would be her, a litany of questions that include but is not limited to:

"Is my hair okay?"

"Don't I look fat in this?"

"Are my pants ill-fitting?"

"Can you still smell my cologne?"

"Do I look okay?"

And sometimes, even with one foot already out the door, I will turn around only to add, "I don't have anything on my face, do I?"

Normally, they would revert to me with a positive feedback for every question that I asked. Although I really wouldn't know if they're being honest, or they're giving out ear candies just to get me going. In any case, I believe that people are inherently good. Especially mothers. Most especially my mama.

So now that I have thought about it, I think I have developed a subconscious habit. One that is quite annoying, not to mention, exasperating. I mean if mama couldn't stand it...

Initially, I assumed that the practice was my own little way of overcoming insecurities even if I'm not one to dwell on such trivial things. Then again, I might be fooling myself, and see things rather differently. Twisted, differently.

Everything made sense though last Black Saturday as I was going through a friend's archive. I came upon an entry which tackled the five love languages as listed by a fellow named Gary Chapman. There was also an accompanying quiz that I recall taking a couple of years back. Out of curiosity, I took it once again and got the following results:

Words of Affirmation - 37%
Quality Time - 27%
Gifts - 23%
Acts of
Service - 13%
Physical Touch - 0%

"It makes perfect sense!" I remember thinking.

As I consider words, spoken or otherwise, as one of the most powerful tools created by man it naturally follows that I would think of it as perhaps, the most effective communicator of love.

I am quite sensitive with words. That's just how I'm built. I thrive on appreciative words and honest compliments. They're like honey to my soul. On the flip side, nasty remarks, thoughtless statements and even jarring silence leave scars that no laser surgey can fix.

So while Mark Twain once claimed that he can live for two months on a good compliment, it goes to show that I sort of need more than one.