[ak-sep-tuhns]

ac·cept·ance

1.

the act of taking or receiving something offered.

2.

favorable reception; approval; favor.

3.

the act of assenting or believing: acceptance of a theory.

4.

the fact or state of being accepted or acceptable.

Just the other day I was talking with a good friend and former boss about acceptance. She grinned, telling me how her two year old has mastered this gem of a quality. Other children may take his toys, hoarding them, living like kings and queens of the sandbox. His response? A smile. A hug. His acceptance.

The art of acceptance was one of the most valuable things my mother instilled within me. It has shaped so much of who I am. She taught me the truth about life and the necessity to accept it: The human race comes in all colors, shapes, sizes, and sexualities. People suck, they will let you down. Even the best of them. Nobody's perfect. If someone's picking on you, it's just their way of covering up their own insecurities. They will hit you where it hurts and if you need to retaliate, always aim for the balls. Yes, some women have them too. And in the end, who gives a damn what anyone else thinks? Strive for your own success and happiness. Plus weight can be changed, ugliness is for life.

And so, I've always tried to live through this honesty, accepting the sound of crutches thudding into the gymnasium floor accompanied by the chant 'HERE COMES KOURTNEY.' I accepted my shape being that of a butterball turkey. I never intended to come in that size, nor did I plan to stay that way. But more so, I accepted society's distaste for fat, even in the elementary ages. But it never got in the way of me living my life. It may have inhibited the early stages of my confidence but it only pushed me further to find happiness in my skin and move towards world domination.

In my quest, I learned, hard as it was, to accept society's hesitation in going after dreams, inability to dive into the impossible, discomfort in dancing in the unknown. I've come to terms with the world's fear of failure. Too much responsibility sits piled on plates, mouthfuls spooned in each day, enough to fill a stomach and potentially come back up in the form of food poisoning. The fear of failing at these duties, these pressures and obligations of life, cloud the imagination and enforce a state of safeness. It is easier to yearn for things to actually go after them.

What do I think? Well naturally, I disagree. But I've accepted through experience that you cannot preach to other people. You cannot assure them that the risks are worth it... fail as they may, it will all be okay. You cannot force others to see the beauty that lies within this world and the glory that comes from taking chances. They need to find out for themselves, at their own pace. You can only change yourself and inspire others by doing so.

With my acceptance comes motivation, the motivation to make an impact and inspire the world.