Growing Into Myself

As long as I can remember, I've been the shy kid.

But it was more than just shyness. I was uncertain of myself; timid. When I made my very first friends, I let them take the lead and dictate what we were to play and who I should pretend to be. I didn't raise my hand much in school, even when I knew the answer--just in case. I was a bookworm who loved transporting myself to new and exciting worlds; it was more interesting than silly conversation and it took far less effort than suffering through small talk. So I spent every precious moment with my nose buried in my latest book, be it on the bus, in the car, or hiding in my bed on Saturday mornings (hoping my parents would think I was asleep so I could keep reading). When I wasn't reading, I poured my life into gymnastics, where I met my closest friends--but my gym was far away and my friendships didn't extend too far beyond practice and handstand contests.

I wasn't necessarily insecure, and I wasn't unhappy by any means, but being the reserved kid who observed everything, I had seen enough and experienced enough to believe that my traits--when compared to others--didn't exactly make me someone of influence. I was nice, I was quiet, and I was a people-pleaser who deferred to others.

As I grew, I began to analyze myself and my traits--and eventually decided that some of them were pretty undesirable. I wondered why I didn't have a best friend like some of the girls in school who couldn't seem to live without each other. I wished I could be like others who were brave enough to speak their minds instead of being so meek and agreeable all the time. I wondered why it took such colossal effort for me to ever be on time. In everything I did and said, I concerned myself first and foremost with how others would react or what they would think.

Even in the past few years--even after coming to terms with the fact that some of these things will never change, and acknowledging that I do have some pretty incredible talents--I've continued to pick myself apart. Why can't I just be like other writers who get to the point? I think. Why must I write never-ending sentences and take off on tangential stories with a million parenthetical asides? (Parentheses! Oh so many parentheses!) And it’s even worse in conversation; I interrupt myself to back up and add more details or go on another tangent with my brain that's built to stop at every possible scenic overlook on the way from point A to B. Why am I so disorganized and messy and incapable of developing a routine? Why do I stink at maintaining "fluffy" relationships, and really only connect on a heart-to-heart level instead of a life-of-the-party level? (Although I already know the answer to that one--it's because I'm really an 85-year-old soul stuck in a young woman's body, just rocking away!).

These are the things that I tend to focus on when I look at myself through others' eyes, and I automatically assume that because I notice them, others must too. I’m so tied up in my perceived flaws that I can’t even relax in my own skin.

But last weekend, I was met with an epiphany. 

We were at a wedding on my husband's side of the family. I'd happily packed adorable little suits and pretty dresses for the kids and for myself, and my husband was looking very sharp in his suit. As it turns out, we were rather overdressed for the country wedding we were attending. But instead of fazing me like it might've in the past, I thought no more about our attire after we showed up and thoroughly enjoyed the ceremony. I relished watching my cute kids in their wedding best sitting next to my dashing husband and happily held his hand as we watched the couple become newlyweds. 

Then came the reception. Shortly after we arrived, I put away my phone instead keeping it glued to my hand obsessively taking pictures (as per usual), and instead turned my attention to happy conversation with the other guests. I am not known for my dancing ability, nor am I known for my uninhibited nature. But fairly early in the evening, I found myself on the dance floor with a bunch of little kids and teens (including my own children who raced by every few seconds), having a blast while my husband sat catching up with his cousins nearby. I stayed on the floor because that's what I felt like doing, and I was determined to have FUN while doing it, garsh dernit! I taught my giggling daughter the Cha Cha Slide and joined a fellow young mom as we wobbled with it (even though I had never before "wobbled" in my life, and the 85-year-old-soul in me was turning over in her grave at the lyrics). When Neil Diamond started crooning that the good times had never seemed so good, I joined the Father of the Bride with my two left feet, and by the end of the song I'd remembered the basic swing step that I'd learned years ago in all of two dance lessons that I'd taken. I laughed unreservedly watching my daughter and sons spin around like drunken sailors way past their bedtime (and mine). I drahpped it like it waz hott to Baby Got Back (though internally I was resisting the urge to shout "EARMUFFS!" at my kids), and not once did I turn around to see who was looking at me. I simply lived in the moment, and it occurred to me that the good times really had never seemed so good as when I spent the entire day allowing myself to just be me.

It was unbelievably freeing.

And on the way home came the epiphany: I'm finally growing into myself. 

I realized that I've gained a much better sense of self recently. Even though those frustrating traits still crop up daily, I'm much more compassionate with myself now. More patient. More accepting of who I am, more content and appreciative of who I was made to be.

I've even come to understand that some of those traits I've considered undesirable in the past are really unique gifts. I may go on tangents, or get distracted but I have an appreciation for details and the small things that many others do not. I know that my brain works differently from others' linear thinking, but in the midst of my disorganization and meandering thought processes, creativity and positivity are born. I may be a deeply sensitive "old" soul, but I am also the Energizer Bunny of empathy and understanding. I may not be good at sustaining "fluffy" or frivolous relationships, but that has allowed me to dig deep down to the meat of authentic friendships--to quickly discover the part of another that is messy and imperfect and beautifully real, forming a connection that perfectly binds us and can carry us through the highest of highs and lowest of lows together. 

I also know that I haven't grown into myself by accident. It's been a combination of factors, some intentional, some not.

I think there's some truth in the adage "with age comes maturity," and my life experience combined with age is certainly playing a role in my growth. It also helps that I've been filling my life increasingly with people who remind me of my worth. I have an amazing husband who very seriously tells me to "quit it" when I'm knocking myself, and wonderful friends who have no tolerance for self-deprecation. My years in the army taught me to grow an assertive bone (although I wonder now if it's a little too strong sometimes!) and my journey in faith has helped me get a firm grasp on what I consider to be my non-negotiable truths in life.

But ultimately, I'm coming to terms with myself because of something much greater: the Divine nature of unwavering love and acceptance that I'm slowly uncovering. It'sthe confidence and understanding that nothing, no one, can change or dilute my purpose on this earth. It's the absolute certainty that I am loved throughout eternity, and ain't no mountain high enough or tangent long enough to ever change that.

Granted, I still have a long way to go when it comes to letting go of my foolish pride and insecurities. 

I know don't need to reach out and sweep aside a bucket load of toys before snapping a picture of the kids in a meager effort to make my house look more kempt that it actually is. (Because really, if you know me...and my kids...that ain't reality, baby). I definitely need to let go of the ridiculous Susie homemaker persona when in public, saying "put on your listening ears!" and "give me your eyes!" when at home behind closed doors I would be maniacally chortling, "Hey [insert first middle last name], you'd better get over here RIGHT NOW and do what I told you to before [insert pause...followed by empty threat]. Do you hear me!?!"  I need to learn that picking out my outfit the night before should be namely for the ease of actually getting to school on time in the morning instead of pretending to be a flawlessly finished and disturbingly unapproachable "real housewife." And on the days I fail to leave myself enough time to achieve said "real housewife" facade and throw on yoga pants instead, there's simply no need to pretend I'm going to go work out like all of the other crossfit moms, because really. So not happening in my life right now. (Maybe sometime soon. But not this week). Honestly, half of those moms are probably pretending too. Still, I do these things. Others do these things. We all have some more growing into ourselves to do. 

But we already shine in so many ways, too. And we really don't give ourselves credit for our own brilliance. 

We don't understand that while some of our traits might be catalysts for change, others must be allowed to remain, and be just as celebrated for their importance in our journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance. We need to know that weaknesses aren't necessarily those things we "fall short in" when we compare ourselves to others (for those are simply talents that others possess and we do not, while we undoubtedly possess talents that they never will). Weaknesses are simply the things that hold us back from being who are truly made to be. They are obstacles that keep us from the mission we've been given to accomplish on this earth. 

That mission is different for all of us. And as such, we've each been wisely assigned different strengths. So we need to allow ourselves to become comfortable with our own strengths and talents. We need to genuinely support others in their strengths and talents. We must realize that we're all deeply and eternally loved. And we need to understand that we are all made up of unacknowledged gifts that we must unpack--in ourselves and in each other--and most importantly use. Because that's when the real growth takes off.

I know I will never bake like Betty Crocker or have my home showcased on the cover of Real Simple. I may not wax poetic like Frost (though I try sometimes), be a socialite of any consequence, or match the other  fit n' fabulous moms in the parking lot. And for that I'm thankful. Because I'm slowly learning that I can rock something they'll never be able to--myself. 

So raise your glass and I'll raise mine: here's to the joy of being ourselves, my friends!

In what ways have you grown into yourself? What do you still struggle with the most with when it comes to self-acceptance?