The concept of baggage came up in another forum, but I didn't want to post my thoughts there. Baggage is the stuff that makes a person real. It's the lessons of their past, the scars from their experiences, their triumphs, their accomplishments. Without baggage we would be empty, an unused suitcase with no travels or scratches.
Some people search for an ideal in a mate. They want someone who is flawless and settle for nothing less than their definition of perfection. I seek the scars of another person, the marks from a life lived. I want someone who doesn't hide their history, who has a story to tell and who wants to hear even the ugliest facets of mine. I want someone who is real.
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in teh breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Sonnet 130 -W. Shakespeare