I know I’m late to the party — I only discovered Shrek this fall, and only then because of my granddaughter. And now, the story has caught my imagination. I watch as Fiona wrestles with the idea that the ogre might be her true form instead of the princess… that Shrek might be her true love. I identify with it.
I want to be beautiful (and slim) and healthy (and full of energy). I want to be honest, trustworthy and always full of praise for God. I want to believe that I can live up to an unrealistic, and probably not healthy ideal. Enter the Inner Ogre. The one that isn’t so perfect in the eyes of the world (or even me). The one who has a thorn in her side. The one who struggles with doing the right thing for the right reason. The one who actually might have some empathy for St. Paul when he cries out that he does what he doesn’t want to do – that he has a thorn in the flesh.
And then, it seems, that Inner Ogre is someone that is Real. Someone that feels pain and joy and sorrow and delight. Someone who is free to be — whatever she is. Not with a perfect body or perfect habits. Someone who can see the warts and green skin and love it all.
Yeah- I can love her. I can accept being her (most of the time).