ISHWORLD WEEKLY COLUMN/BLOG

October 2, 2026

510 words

The story of me. Is it the story of you?

By Ishmael-Lateef Ahmad

Columnist/Blogger-At-Large

I never liked me.

Not to the fullest.

Never.

There were times when I tolerated me – a few times, a few years, in the apex of my youth, when manhood trumped all the faults, weaknesses and disappointment of not being the person you really wanted to be.

I regret I was born looking like someone I would not have picked if I could go shopping for a face, a body, a mind, a gift.

Oh, I dreamed great things, high hoping that I too could join the list of souls who make a difference on this rock.

But, lacking charisma, cool, power and the long list of things that make a person exceptional, loved and adored by others, I grew to accept me, as a weakling, a person who would never fully realize the many dreams inside me.

Always trying to be self-assured and in control, there were the times I stood before the world in my best armor and challenged it to crush me. When it did, I ran for cover, licked my wounds and wondered what would become of me. You know those times.

Do you remember when you consciously realized you were alive in a place called the world? And do you remember when you came into the knowledge that everybody dies, and not just really old people, but young people die too?

Do you remember when you discovered you were limited in pretty much everything really cool you wanted to do, like jumping really, really high or flying like a bird or not getting burnt with fire, or falling and not hurting?

I mean, just playing with your friends could mean a sudden unplanned hard fall from a tree, a gym set, or jumping a ditch, or getting hit with a ball, a bat, a rock in playing sports or war games? Scrapes, bruises, sprains, broken bones – the story of our youth. 

Now, in the twilight time of my journey I now know that I had it all wrong.

That my greatness was more than how I measured it, but based on something else, something more meaningful than a face, a body, a walk, a talk, a manly stare.

If only I knew what I now know about life, my life would have been so much better.

Yet, it’s never too late to know yourself and to know your purpose.

I now know that the real me is not what I look like in the mirror, or what adorns me or what I carry in my pockets.

The real me is an invisible force that guides me in never ending times of hardship, wonder and joy.

This is the story of me.

Is it the story of you?

(From “The Story of Me, You” a novel to be by Ishmael-Lateef Ahmad – 12.19.2011)

(ISHWORLD: The International Search for Humanity is a complimentary column created and distributed to media by freelance journalist & blogger Ishmael-Lateef Ahmad. Based in St. Louis, Mo., he can be reached via ishworldcolumn@gmail.com or his website at https://payhip.com/ISHWORLDcolumns.)

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