Falling Stars

I was watching the pilot of a CW show called "Emily Owens, MD" over the weekend. Emily is doing her time as an underling (resident) in a big city medical center. The show starts off talking about how she was always the nerdy, awkward one growing up. She was geeky and often picked on. She looked forward to growing up, becoming an adult that no longer has the pains and insecurities of youth. However, she has now realized something that the "grown-ups" don't tell you when growing up:  those insecurities don't just melt away or disappear. They follow you.

For me, that's true. I know who I am and how other people see me, but that has never changed the weight of my fears and the self-magnification of my short-comings. I have had to fight myself for the inches of growth and understanding I have gained over the years, and I have been blessed to have friends who have always loved and supported me, even when I felt (or was!) undeserving, ready to jump up and bolster my self-worth at any time. (Thank you, by the way!)

As a young person, I was never the 'ideal' image of a woman. On one hand, I had great skin. On the other, I was short, shapeless, hyper, and somewhat lacking in social skills. And do you know what? I'm still all those things, though about 25 lbs. heavier and minus the great skin thing. (Good thing I started out on the small side..^^V)

It's kind of interesting how carrying many of my insecurities into adulthood, combined with some not so positive physical changes, has had an impact on my self image. As an adult who has worked hard to change her own perception of herself, and has grown a great deal over the years (though not quite enough, at times), I recognized, quite suddenly, that I have somehow learned that my flaws do not define who I am. Through trying to cope with some pretty stubborn (and still present) acne, I have gained confidence in myself. I am not my poor skin. Realizing that I have put on far too much weight for me to feel quite comfortable in my own skin has helped me to see that, no, I am not exactly what I want to be-but that doesn't need to mean giving up or giving in to those heavy old doubts that tend to follow me around. I am not defined by any one thing. I am what I do and who I love. I am what I give my heart and my passions to. My imperfections are a part of me, but they do not define me. I hope that somehow I can teach my little girl that truth, so that she can grow up stronger and better, and more sure than her mother was able to. I am proud to be a woman who is stronger than she once was that she might be the mother she needs to be:  one that is, little by little, trying to become more gracious, more understanding, and more useful as she interacts with the world around her.