Friday, January 2

A Me Thing

Maybe it's a girl thing. No, I am not going to talk about icky stuff.

Sometimes I get stuck in this spiral, down down down. I don't even want to type out the words of my internal dialogue. First, because then it wouldn't be internal or mine anymore. Second, because I know what the response would be. My mom would call, possibly my sister too - she is more likely to email. Someone would (possibly) comment about how wrong I am about myself, and that just doesn't do much to forward my wallowing. Third, it shatters the illusion of self confidence. The thin, flimsy, transparent, ridiculous illusion.

My sister, all wise and knowing, powerful and sweet (Eric says I have her on a pedestal but I say nay, if you've met her you will agree with my assessment), says that I have to set a good example for Josh. I do alright with the everyday kind of stuff. You know like don't lie, eat your veggies, wear clean socks, I've got those down.

But when it comes to believing in myself - not so much.

Sure, we've all got that God-like potential that comes with being children of a God Most High.

But not me.

We're all endowed with gifts and talents, unique abilities that make us wonderful.

But not me.

Utterly forgettable, hiding in the background, hoping not to be noticed because if you see me then you'll be aware of how much there is not to see.

That's me.

A friend was at my house just after Christmas. She commented that my house is so home-y, that it looks like it is from a magazine (referring to my living room and 'den' area) and I said no and laughed it off. And she said: "Oh stop it, that's what you were going for"

And she's right, it is what I was going for. I love it, I think it's beautiful and cozy. It's not perfect, it needs some pictures and such, but it's lovely to me.

But I couldn't accept the compliment. (If you haven't read this post by That Girl in Brazil, you really should.)

I'm not fishing for comments, in fact I think I am going to turn them off for this post. I don't want sympathy or boosting or any of that. I just wanted to put it out there that I feel it too. I get it. I live it. I struggle with it.

And a little wallowing from time to time is healthy.

Or something.