Think. Think. Think.
It would be easy to say I hate my knees. My big nose. My freckles that multiple with age. The saggy skin on my gut. My short stature. My lack of athleticism. Blah, blah, blah. But that would be too trite and convenient.
Something I hate about myself. Hate is a very strong word, you know. But since I have to use it... here goes.
I hate that I have knee jerk reactions to things I disagree with or when I have been wronged, which often leads to me to using my mouth or my written words to let someone know how I feel.
I know my words can cut, and when I get in that 'zone', I can make them go deep without even thinking about it.
Kids, I have a bad temper. Yes, I do. Life is funny that way, because I really disliked my Dad's short fuse growing up, and, as an adult, I have suggested anger management CDs to a certain boss of mine.