The moments of being good enough were few and far between. It was a constant battle for affection and a longing to belong.
No matter how hard I fought, the fight was not strong enough. I learned early on the only way to "win" was by someone else's failure. No matter how hard I tried, I just didn't fit in, and I longed to be a part of something. Growing up, I thought life was "normal". We had a beautiful home filled with beautiful things. We had birthday and Christmas traditions, and how those were so precious to me. We had family pictures made every once in a while. You know, things normal families do. However, I was unaware that marriages didn't end up in divorce and for the ones that did last, I assumed they also consisted of splitting up on the regular and then being joined back together. I thought everyone's parents worked so much they had to stay with their grandparents. I was unaware that relationships weren't abusive whether that be verbally, mentally, or physically. I thought everyone cried because there was such a longing for affection. This was my normal. I was in this place called home where I rarely felt like I belonged. I remember being criticized about my weight. I was criticized about how long it took me to get ready. I was criticized about the fact I cared about my hair. I was criticized for being scared to ride a horse. I was criticized for raising my eyebrows the wrong way at the wrong moment. I was criticized for finding the stash of Little Debbies (oops). I was criticized for the state in which my bedroom was in (the phrase it looks like a tornado came through here must have originated from my mother). I was criticized for being too grateful and for not being grateful enough. I was criticized for expressing my feelings too much and then not enough. I was constantly criticized. And while some of it deserves criticism, there was never an explanation why or an example of how. When I tried to fix the problem, again I found myself not being good enough. (I must explain and praise God that I had such AMAZING parts of childhood. My mom was the most amazing at making special moments extra special. My parents were divorced, but my dad drove from Georgia to Tuesday night band concerts. My stepdad was always an amazing provider. My grandparents, maternal and paternal, were absolute Godsends. They were/are my angels on earth.) Obviously, this all impacted me in some form or fashion. I love looking back now and seeing how God used it all to mold me and bring me to the point He has me today. For a long time, and even still today, I struggle with self worth. For such a large part of my life absolutely nothing I did was good enough. That taught me to automatically assume if you're not told it's right, then it must be wrong. I'm so guilty of automatically assuming the very worst. Just call me a #negativenancy. While I still battle this, and through Jesus Christ, overcome it, there is some good that came from it. I learned to work hard and persevere. Giving up and mediocrity were never options. I also developed the terrible disease to please. Sometimes it can be quite the disease. Eyebrows are raising. What's wrong with wanting to please people? When pleasing people becomes your identity, it's no longer a good thing. Pleasing people had become part of my identity. I identify with it. It was such large part of who I was. I thrived off making people happy. I adored/adore to see merry reactions! I felt accomplished, and that was my downfall. When I started realizing I was getting a lot of self fulfillment from making others happy, I knew I was headed down a dangerous path. I began to find my fulfillment in trying to make others happy. I still struggle with this. Talk about a wrecked girl when I feel like I've disappointed someone. The difference now is that I know that is not who I am. I also know that my identity lies in Jesus Christ. While I enjoy making others happy, that is not my purpose on this earth. God put me here to glorify Him. When my eyes are on Him and serving others, it's utterly amazing how beautifully things fall in to place, and even if they don't, I'm not a wreck. As soon as I take my eyes off Him and start serving others, that old disease please kicks in, and the emotions start to roll. I find often find myself obsessing over not letting someone down or making someone unhappy. It burdens me severely. I've taught myself I must fix whatever is wrong, and if I don't, I've failed. The problem is I CAN'T fix it all. I have to let go and let God. Praise God, He surrounded me so many people who helped to lift me up in those dark moments. And they were dark. There was so much I didn't understand, but now I look back in amazement of all the things God taught me and where He brought me, and I'm in awe. He often reminds me of how He loved me in the womb. He reminds me that He fearfully and wonderfully made me. He wraps me up in His God sized arms, and I am reminded that when I cross Jordan, I will know He never let me know down. From all of this, I try to remember the impact of growing up in a critical home. I see the good and the bad that came from it. I would encourage you, and I ask you to pray and help me to remember to be uplifting to others. Our words and actions are more powerful than we know. I was a broken hearted little girl in need of a Savior, and I desperately searched, but often in the wrong places. I continually felt empty. I'm thankful that I was very aware of my need, and I am thankful for the provisions God made to guard me along the way. A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones. Proverbs 17:22 Help someone to have a merry heart today! Be an encouragement to someone who has a broken heart. Remember your words and actions are stronger than you know.
1 Comment
Pam
11/7/2016 07:57:44 pm
You are so precious to me. I had no idea you were going through any of this. I was there for you, even if you didn't realize, and always will be. I love all of you so much!!!
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