I am not fat, white or middle-aged. Oh, but wait a minute, you say.
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“Are you not significantly over your recommended weight? Isn’t your skin of a distinctly light hue? Didn’t your fiftieth birthday come and go several years ago, with another one fast approaching?”
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Yes, yes, and yes, is my response. But that is not who I am. These things do not define my character, my personality, my humanity. They play their roles in my life, certainly; but they are not me.
Who am I?
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I am intelligent, curious, a learner with a life-long love of books; I am funny, sometimes sarcastic, and I do love to laugh, but I try not to be mean-spirited about it.
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I am passionate, sometimes moody and I do possess a hot temper, one I have worked hard to regulate over the years. I am impatient. I am kind and compassionate but do not wear out my welcome mat.
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I am also ambitious. I like being recognized for my accomplishments but it’s not a primary motivation for me. I like being better at something today than I was yesterday. I am likely my harshest critic.
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I am shy, and I am a complete ham. I love art and music and dance; I draw and sing well but I’m a complete klutz and envy those who move with elegance and grace.
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My tastes in the arts, in interior design, in—everything, really–are eclectic. I love Mozart and bluegrass fiddles, Shakespeare and Lewis Grizzard, Norman Rockwell and Monet.
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I love my pets. Honestly, if something happened to my kitten, I am quite sure I would be a basket case. But I do eat meat and wear leather (if not fur). I live in the country, not far from where I grew up, but I have also lived in urban areas, traveled overseas and met and worked with people from all over the world.
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I try to see both sides of an issue and to be fair and not judgmental. In some ways I am conservative, and in others, quite liberal. But don’t label me one or the other, please.
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I have a condition that has changed my life and disabled me to a certain degree, but to simply look at me you’d likely not know it.
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I am admirable in some ways, and in others, not so much. I am what I am, and I don’t fit into a tidy little box.
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I am also a fan of a particular actor named Richard Armitage.
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We don’t fit into tidy little boxes, either, this fandom, this group of well wishers, ardent admirers, fangurlz (and boyz)–whatever you may call us.
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We come in all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, backgrounds, nationalities, political, social and religious ideologies and sexual orientation
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What unites us is our desire to champion and to celebrate the talent, versatility and charisma of a lovely human being, a man who happens to be beautiful inside and out.
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Here is a man who has inspired us on so many levels, and taken us on journeys of self-discovery with his detailed and nuanced characterizations. A man who has gotten us through some “dark nights of the soul.”
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For anyone to dismiss us as a bunch of silly, foolish old fat females, clueless and naïve in our admiration for this particular actor is, well, silly and foolish in itself.
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You really need to think outside the box.
the armitage effect 