I’ve been trying to think of something to write about for a while now, and I just wasn’t really feeling inspired. But as I was thinking about it, I realized my heart knew all along the most vulnerable area of my life: self-acceptance.
I think everyone deals with this to a certain degree. Whether it be body image, intelligence, athleticism, spirituality, ethnicity, etc., we all deal with some sort of trouble regarding acceptance.
Constant comparison is the name of the game. I think, at least for myself, I’m constantly holding myself to a standard that I think I should meet. Based on what though? There has to be some sort of precedent set before me in order for that standard to seem feasible in my head. But truthfully, I am my own standard. We are all our own individual standards. I once got so excited that I improved my score on a test that I planned to celebrate with a nice dinner that night. But when I found out the scores that other people earned on that same test and realized they were better, my automatic thoughts told me my score isn’t good enough. I don’t deserve a celebratory dinner. What was I thinking? Yet I was so excited for myself before I found out what other people had scored. So what changed? I set a standard for myself based on other people, instead of realizing my own accomplishment. I compared myself to everyone else instead of recognizing that I actually doubled my previous test score; I did well for ME. But that wasn’t enough.
But honestly, what is enough?
I don’t think I can even answer that. I don’t have a concrete answer for what “enough” looks like. That’s the problem.
How am I supposed to ever accept myself if I don’t even know what I’m accepting?
I have a picture of myself from 6thgrade when I traveled to Colorado with my mom and a couple of her friends (see below). I knew I wouldn’t know anyone in Colorado, so I had liberty to be whoever I wanted to be while I was there. More specifically, I could wear whatever I wanted to wear without anyone judging me. Whenever I look at the pictures from this trip, I first want to blame my mom for allowing me to go out in public (Haha seriously though, Mom). But then I realize I was just being me. Sure, I wasn’t the most stylish, but I accepted myself. It makes me a little sad that I was only willing to accept myself when I knew no one else would be there to witness it.
I hope I can learn to accept myself 100% of the time, and I hope I can allow everyone to witness it.
I’m not quite there yet. I’m working on it.
So here’s to self-acceptance and learning that we are all individuals. Here’s to breaking out your knee-high purple socks and wearing them in public.
We’re different. But let’s be different together. Imagine if we all accepted ourselves 100% of the time.
Who would you be then?
catch ya on the flip side,
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.