Sometimes I label myself the underdog.
Not underdog in the feel-good movie sense where the unlikely ragtag sports team takes on the high-powered favorite. That sort of scenario carries with it a scrappy sort of hope.
No, when I label myself the underdog, I picture the scrawny kid with the secondhand clothes who runs into the schoolyard bully and his minions. Alone. The underdog without a chance.
Sometimes the obstacles in my life look huge. Muscled. Mean. They gang up on me, catch me alone, back me into a corner.
I don’t know what your gang of bullies looks like . . .
I’m blogging over at the Flatirons Women’s Community Blog today. Click here to read the full post: Underdog