There’s something about becoming vulnerable that I think brings a sense of reconciliation with myself. I feel that when I am painfully honest with myself, in the end, comes peace. Often times it takes longer than I’d hope, but nonetheless, life usually works itself out….but only when I’m honest. I find myself living life with the mentality that if something is out of sight, it’s out of mind and the problem doesn’t exist. But that method only lasts while I’m keeping my mind occupied with other things, mindless things that don’t require much effort. A lot of times, that results in baking which leads to eating and the expansion of my ever growing waistline. And when that is all said and done, I feel even worse. Am I being too honest for you yet? 🙂
So. In being honest, let me tell you about something I struggle with and have wrestled with for the majority of my life. It’s something that interferes with relationships in my life. It creeps up when I’m least expecting it. It wraps itself around my mind and takes residence in every corner of my heart. And before I know it, I’ve allowed it to nearly take over. That’s when being honest with myself comes in to play. I’ve gotten better over time in recognizing when it’s time to clean house, in a sense, and sweep away the depression that inhabits my life. But even after recognizing what needs to be done, it’s hard to find the energy and the motivation to get started because most of my energy is spent on convincing everyone around me that I’ve got it all together. And FYI, that wears me the heck out. Why does it seem like everyone else my age so easily has their life together? I’m sure that’s not the case in reality, but as for having already met the benchmarks of life that I’m far from meeting, it feels like they are leaps and bounds ahead of me. I’ll be 27 in a few months and I am just now in my senior year of college. I’m single, far from having a family or home of my own. And I’m twenty pounds overweight. How bout now, too honest for ya?
The last week or so, I’ve felt like the most annoying person on the planet. This, too, is something I struggle with. I feel like I’m too loud. I’m obnoxious. And in the moments when I think I’m being funny, hindsight reminds me that I’m far from humorous. Quite the contrary, in fact. So I sit around and think of ways that I can be more of a lady. How can I come across as someone who is a professional, someone who is classy and delicate and kind? How can I be a person that never has a hair out of place? How can I be more appealing to society, more marketable, so to speak? How can I reach the status of June Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver? I highly doubt she was an emotional eater. I’m certain she never chose to sleep 13 hours instead of getting up and being a productive member of society just because she felt like everyone was annoyed with her…….probably because she was never annoying. Except to people like me who try so hard to be more like her and failing at it miserably.
I’ve written about seeing myself through the eyes of Christ. Not too long ago I wrote these words: real eyes realize real lies. And trust me, I’ve come a long, long way in seeing myself as a human worthy of even existence. But still yet, I have days, sometimes more than one, when these feelings creep their way into my mind and it’s a matter of me choosing to take these thoughts captive and remembering that no matter what anyone in the world thinks of me, I was made for a reason.
I don’t know if I should apologize for this brutal honesty or if I should just stick with the theory of vulnerability bringing reconciliation. I guess I don’t care too much seeing as I’m about to hit the publish button at the bottom of this screen. But either way, know that I’m trying. I’m working. I’m striving. I’m a work in progress. And loving myself is where I know I have to start.