I hate moustaches.
 
There I said it.
 
Never have
liked them. Probably never will.
 
 
Don’t like the way they look.
Don’t like the way it feels on my
face. REALLY don’t like being
confused with a creeper guy from the
70’s or a French person. (The French confusion happened a few
times this month!!
 
 
In fact, I’m not a
big fan
of facial hair in
general.
 
 

And DANG IT
It’s my right not have to grow any.

Or at least I
thought.

 

Coming into our month of Manistry, a
few different guys were passionately championing
the hideous moustache torch. With the goal of getting all the guys to grow one for the month.
 
 
I was determined
to not be one of them.
 

In my logic, AN
ANNOYING MOUSTACHE
wouldn’t help get me any closer to anyone.

I can connect with guys without
it
.

And it’s my face
– I have the RIGHT to not grow
facial hair if I don’t want to.
 
 

Little did I know
that my decision to grow this obscene piece of facial hair

would teach me so
much.
 
 

First, in not
growing it out initially –

I was choosing My RIGHTS
over other people.
 

Honestly, I do
this a lot. And this was a chance to give up my “Right” to not grow

the monstrosity
that is a moustache and bless and serve the guys around me.
 
 

TwoDanny Stinson!!!! It makes him so happyThat should be enough reason!!!

 

Another:

I’M STUBBORN.

It’s a good and bad thing.  But it does prevent me from just going with the flow.

This was a Prime Opportunity to finally go along with a group.
 

 

Now time to get
EXTREMELY REAL.

This isn’t the first time this type of opportunity has come along.

Every time I have found a way to get out of it.
 
 

There was ONE TIME in particular
that especially exhibited my

Pride. Attachment to Image. And Holding
onto my Rights.
 
 

My Junior year of
College – It was discovered one of
my friends had Cancer.

And some guys around Campus
were going to shave their heads

in a show of support
for him before he went home for Chemotherapy.
 
 

I had all sorts
of reasons not to.

And in the end I JUSTIFIED
why I could support my friend WITHOUT SHAVING MY HEAD.

I got out of it.

I held onto my Rights.
Image. Pride.
 
 

That was four
years ago and I have regretted it
ever since.

So, Oddly enough My
Little French Moustache
was a chance

to do the Right Thing this
time.
 
 
 
Give up my Rights,
Image, Pride and walk into
Deeper Maturity.
 

 

Who would have
thought a
MOUSTACHE could do all that?

Maybe that aren’t so
bad after all…………

Nah.