We make plans, and then God shows us his. That’s essentially my explanation for the past 6 days of my absence from writing. I had this perfect plan for tracking, writing, and sharing my perfectly pleasant story. The truth is I got sick for a few days- my body reliant on saltines and carbonated water. Then I abandoned ship. I slipped away from my Team Boot Camp and I slid back into eating whatever I wanted- back into my comfort zone.
I was shutting down, physically and emotionally. Worn out from work, picking up shifts at my part time job to try to close in on credit card debt, etc, etc. etc….. really just beating myself up. I kept finding myself within these randoms bouts of tears trying to figure out why I keep failing at all these goals I set for myself. I finally realized that I’m asking a LOT of myself. I’ve essentially signed this perfection clause and keep driving myself crazy trying to figure out why “it never works out”. I read a scripture this morning that truly put some things in perspective:
Giving up who you are in order to find yourself….
Who I am? A scared, 25 year-old who occasionally freaks out because all of the Type A, well-planned, and scripted life I’ve specified for myself aren’t quite holding as true to the script as I had hoped.
At 25, I was totally expecting to have conquered my weight issues- weighing in at a pleasant 135 and jacked with strength (emotional and physical- hell spiritual too!)
At 25, I was expecting to be happily dating- living in a modern swanky apartment with my dog and my gluten-free groceries celebrating coffee dates and impromptu flowers at my door step with a note that says, “Just because <3”
At 25, I was expecting to be financially stable- without my own kids, and able to manage my finances in a way that included fun summer vacations, impromptu trips, and a Kate Spade bag just because.
The list goes on, and while I re-read and think about how my Type A, slightly narcissistic self still dreams of those thoughts being a reality one day, I also take note to how materialistic my list is. On how centered my “ideal life” is on being skinny having and fancy place, and having the best BFF ever. While these wants seem reasonable to me (what!! I said I was slightly narcissistic!) There’s this other side of me that feels an urge to drop the act and truly expose myself.
To abandon my Banana Republic wardrobe (that I can’t afford) and Armani glasses (that I ALSO cannot afford) and stand ass out for the world to see. To stand proud in my favorite frumpy sweat pants and tattered white t-shirt, flip flops and some lip gloss, with my hair mopped on top of my head.
To take all of my
excessive mind-numbing purchases stuff to a consignment shop- pay off a few bills, turn my cable off and just be. When I think of what I think would truly make me happy—that’s it. Fear keeps me complacent. Holding on to my comfort zone…holding on to “who I am”.
I hope God gives me the strength to let go- to stay in faith- hear his voice- and say eff this, I’m ready to meet the true me- not the one generated from my mind that’s been polluted with the world’s perception or suggestion of what I’ve pressured myself into feeling obligated to become at 25.
(Thanks, Krystal for sharing the photo!)