When I first read the prompt tender, I thought of well cooked meat; For the true nature of tenderness, Is something I grow less familiar with each passing week.
I regret to inform, I have neglected to give myself the affection and compassion, the soft inner tenderness, that one requires to live. Perhaps this is why I feel like a stranger on this earth, a void empty of love filled with doubt and anger since birth.
When people are genuinely kind to me. and care for my health and well being, I automatically become defensive as it is not the true me they are seeing.
I love to view pure tenderness, it usually makes me cry to see someone selflessly love and care for themselves another, is something I wish to try.
But it is hard to change when you never felt that warm blanket of tender safety; when you grew up in a cage of criticism, instead, going it alone, bravely
I do not believe in God though I wish I sometimes I did because he is tenderness personified and he may give me the power to forgive to forgive myself for the inner hatred, and to those who should have treated me better; to teach me how to love myself, and therefore to be tender.