You ever won a trophy? And you protected and cared for and loved that trophy so much that you hid it away and kept it separate from everyone and everything else? You didn’t want anyone rubbing up on or brushing against or getting too close to your trophy. You feared the trophy would break. Or that the trophy would think you didn’t work hard enough to deserve it. Or that maybe you had something to hide, something that told it you obtained it under false pretenses. That you already had a house full of awards, who you used to treasure.
But in your eyes, the trophy was shiny and pretty and sparkly and new and different. Something you just couldn’t say no to. Something you just had to have. You couldn’t help yourself. You were magnetized by it. Enamored by it. Obsessed with it. You were so drawn to its shiny exterior and its accommodating interior. You couldn’t see yourself without it. After all, you worked hard for it.
You turned your back on your other awards so you could coddle it. And revel in it. And give your all to it. So you dusted it and polished it and spent hella money on it, just to keep it happy and warm and loved. You showered it with an expensive shelf to sleep on. A new car to drive in. First class trips to show it off and stayed in five star hotels with it so it would think you were the prize . . . and not it.
So, you protected it and put it on a pedestal and ignored all your previous awards, big and small. Even though the other awards were being ignored, they still loved you and counted on you to provide for them and take them to fancy schmancy places to be shown off. They waited for you to come home and revel in them and coddle them and obsess over them.
But those other awards . . . they sorta knew something was off. Something was different. Not. Quite. Right. They couldn’t put their fingers on exactly what it was. They knew you changed . . . became distant. You didn’t look at them the same anymore. You didn’t smile and laugh when you saw them sitting there, waiting at home for you. Your enthusiasm had dulled. You weren’t drawn to them like you were before. So, since they couldn’t tell you had an affinity for a new trophy, they were content just to be around you. And breathe the same air as you. And hope you’d see their sparkle and shine again.
Then one day, your old awards noticed the word “trophy” pop up on your cell phone. “Nah . . . couldn’t be,” they pondered. “He wouldn’t get another,” they thought. “He wouldn’t love another,” they whispered. “He wouldn’t bring another into the mix . . . would he?”
Yep. You did. You went and flexed your muscles and sweet talked the committee and won yourself friggin trophy. One you had to hide away from all to see. One you had to sneak around with. One you kept under wraps and in the dark. One you lurked in the shadows with, no doubt ashamed, yet exhilarated by. One you spent hella lot of money on to maintain and upkeep and prove you deserved.
Very low of you to hoard a secret trophy. Very disrespectful of you to give it the name “trophy”. Very sad of you to keep your other awards hanging on. Very disgusting of you to spend hella lot of money to maintain and upkeep the trophy. Very wrong of you to take so much money from the upkeep of your other awards, big and small.
So, to you . . . I hope you’re happy with your trophy. I hope the trophy keeps you warm and cozy at nights as you stare at it, mesmerized by the shiney sparkle you’ve shared. I hope as the years go on, your trophy continues to shine and glisten in your eyes and provide you comfort and warmth and love and whatever the hell else you want. I hope it stays on the pedestal you put it on, and doesn’t falter and fall from your grace. And for your sake . . . I hope it doesn’t mind that you cheated to get it.
As for the dust that settled on those other awards, big and small? All. Friggin. Gone. Not a speck left. They’re golden and bright and light and crisp. They’re full of luster and glitter and gleam and glow. All. On. Their. Own. They’re on their own pedestal and breathe their own air and no longer wait for anyone or anything to give them shine and sparkle.
Trophies are decorative, but awards? Awards are the real prize.
