Never Met A Taco I Didn't Like
Three summers ago I was on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, walking into a gold mirrored building while the sales clerk eyed me with a combination of suspicion and contempt. One look at my shoes, and the jig was up- we both knew I wasn't there to shop. And even if I had pulled out a card and purchased something, it would have been small- a trinket at best- as a girl like me is too practical to spend my rent on a handbag.
Over the course of the week, there were a lot of moments when my lack of status and wealth seemed to stand out, and I had to talk myself off some steep egoic ledges. By the end of the trip I was SO ready to be back home, in the other LA. On that trip I remember feeling most happy sitting on the beach eating fish tacos with a friend. Those tacos were $3 a piece, and there was no special sauce or fancy artisan anything. Just an honest taco. The ocean was in front of me, and in that moment I knew I was winning at life.
If I can love a taco for what it is then I can be loved as my most honest, realest self. And so can you. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have aspirations or dreams, it just means you're already a raging success because you're YOU.
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