The FBI Most Wanted poster.  Ever imagined your face on it?  How about posters  that say “Wanted Dead Or Alive”.

There is not one human being that does not want to be wanted. Why do women dress with fashion and allure?  Always checking  in the mirror to see if their “look” is “wantable”….  And I have seen guys at the Y checking their hair after they shave, turning their head side to side.  Why?…  you know …  it is the “Want-Syndrome”.   Flirting because you want someone to like you.  We desperately want to be wanted.  The extreme is the celebrity who basks in adoration that satiates their intrinsic insecurity.  But wait a second…  we are all insecure from the git-go.  Why are we so attached to our mothers? Because they loved us unconditionally regardless of our selfishness.  They made us feel wanted.  God love ‘em.  In fact they were the first person that let us feel that we were worth being wanted.  And we chase that need until we die.

Today our texting and our Facebook-type pursuits are all about being wanted.  Generally we have to make someone else feel wanted and then they reflexively reciprocate.   Cell phones should be renamed “wantphones”.

If one has a loving family upbringing, one is blessed to be less dependent on want for character development and autonomy.  If the upbringing reflects respect for values and discipline then freedom from want is easier to find.

But life has many unsuspected circumstances that bring hurt.   We withdraw into the pain as we desperately seek solace and a compelling need to be wanted.  Addictions and tragic behavior temporarily fill some voids.  Dishonesty and self-centered acts provide cover.   Some turn to crime.  Some turn to lies and indifference to truth.  These are the souls who need to be wanted the most.  Ironic, is it not?

A face on a poster or in a lineup reveals one who needed to be wanted so much that they made sure they never could be.

I don’t want to be wanted.

I just want to help people who want a helping hand.

I just want to do enough good that God wants me.

Christopher Bent
Naples, FL

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