My fear

I wanted to see myself in the media but she wasn’t there. And because I wanted to be seen I tried to blend in. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the clothes, the height, the hair, accent to blend in so that was a bust. I guess it was convenient that we moved so much because only then could I escape from one reality to the next. I spent a long time being angry. When my home life finally stabilized I became resentful. They had a life that I was trying to infiltrate and I was too insecure to give them the benefit of the doubt. So I tried so hard to become the perfect Christian girl. I didn’t date, I didn’t hang out with anybody outside my church youth group and as much as I tried to fit in my skirts never seemed to be “long” enough. The more praise I received, the more the criticism piled on. To be honest, I don’t remember much of the praise but I definitely remember the time I was yelled at for “not prioritizing the house of God”. My sin was asking to be excused from choir practice to help out a friend who needed a babysitter so she could work. Home was a constant reminder of my shortcomings as a daughter. If supper was burnt I heard it. If the dishes weren’t washed I heard it. Now I’m a grown woman who’s achieving all of these goals and yet I still fall short of accepting myself fully and completely for the person I am. How am I going to teach my daughters that they are perfectly enough, if I don’t believe it for myself?

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