Monday, September 10, 2012

unfinished

I don't do well with unfinished things. I am a perfectionist to a fault. There are countless things that I haven't done or experienced not because I don't want to or because I was scared of failing - that's a whole other concept entirely (which, of course, I'm petrified of as well)...but I am even more afraid of the process, of progress, of going through a constant state of change. I'm afraid of not being immediately great or at least immediately good. I realize that this is a bad thing, that in reality it means I am beyond arrogant. To believe that I am so amazing that I should just "be" great at anything I try. But, here's the thing, I've lived my entire life in a shaft of light. I found this little space where I shined and I stayed there, too afraid to leave the warmth to every venture beyond the shadows. Too desperate for the warmth to look to the source, to draw nearer, to venture through the shadows to embrace the sun. I learned quickly which things I was good at and I did them, and only them. I lived in that little space, where I was good at everything that I did. I wasn't amazing at everything, but I was good enough. Usually second best, Salutatorian in high school, went to the first college that offered a scholarship and didn't even apply elsewhere, took the first job I interviewed for, was a good teacher - but I didn't win any awards, and I'm well on my way to the same as a stay-at-home mom and keeper of our home. Good, but never great.

Thankfully, I was amazingly blessed and through my fear and paralysis, the Lord still managed to provide me with everything I ever wanted. An amazing husband (although I nearly ruined that) and an equally amazing son. Yet, I'm lazy, I've always done just enough - but never my best. I don't think I've ever done my best at anything, which is a bit strange to say as a self proclaimed perfectionist - yet somehow, that desire for perfection along with the rational knowledge that I'll never achieve it has created this murky muddy middle ground - where I just don't try. Because if I don't try, then I don't have to be disappointed when I'm still not good enough. My mom made a comment the other day about how she worked so hard to create self-confident children and she did such a good job of it with my brother and I, but she doesn't understand why my sister is so un-self-assured (it's close enough to being a word). I didn't have the heart to tell her how wrong she was (not by any fault of her own, as she did raise me to be self-assured - this is just who I am, or rather who I've allowed my experiences - mostly with friends - to make me). I am mired in self-doubt. I always have been, I don't remember a time when I was sure of myself for more than a few minutes or hours. I just hide it better, which I'm not sure is a good thing.

The thing is God really did create me and call me (and you) to be great. If I have truly been able to accomplish all that I have, while not really trying, I shudder to think what I could have accomplished if I really and truly tried. I've wasted so much of God's blessing, because I was scared of what it would mean to try. I don't even have a concept of what it would be to fail, I don't even really know how to try. I never studied a day in my life. I never really and truly bettered myself or learned. I don't know what it is to have something be difficult and to keep trying and to push on and get better and stronger and change. I have probably done that a handful of times in my life and most of them I quit when it took more effort than I liked: dieting, fitness/exercise, friendships and past relationships (I've let just about all of them fade away, yet bemoan my loneliness), my education (I hardly cracked a book, I waited until the last minute to start work - and at one point in my life I was actually proud of that fact - and thought myself better than my hard working and always studying husband). I have tried and put in just enough effort to meet the expectations, to absolve my guilt.

I don't want this to be true anymore. I don't want to waste the blessings that God has given me in my life. I don't want to be a mediocre wife and mother, because I'm too lazy/scared/arrogant to try to become a better one. I'm ready to admit to being a work in progress and to make myself better. They deserve better. I'm ready to admit that if I'm not a work in progress than I'm really just a stagnant mess. It's not better to live in the little shaft of light. It's better to open up to the whole world, to move beyond my talents and abilities and become what I could be. I know that means hard work, and bumps and bruises, and struggles. It means I'm going to mess up and gain and lose the same 10 pounds over again, to blow up and my well-meaning husband, to disappoint myself and others - but the only way I'll ever get to where I want to be is to try - to open up and allow myself to bloom. I look into the world and see all of these women and say - I want to be like her. I want that, I want her blog, or marriage, or body, or wardrobe, or anything else. Yet, in the past I always stopped there, wanted and wondered why I didn't have it or tried, but quit because my first step in that direction didn't measure up to where I wanted to end up. I want to share myself and to be known and to build a community, but I look at others and the community they have and I freeze. Instead, it's time that I start and take the real steps towards the things that I want and put in the work to build genuine relationships and to reach my goals without skipping steps. The journey is important, the steps build on each other for a reason and each attempt creates the foundation and builds the strength for the next step - skipping around will only leave me weak with countless difficulties that weren't necessary. It's time to build those muscles and I'm sure it will be hard and sometimes it may even hurt a little, but I'm starting to see that it just might be worth it.

This is it. This is my life, I'm all grown up and I don't get a do over. I do, however, still get to decide what kind of an influence I will be on Owen. I do still get to influence how he will view the world and I want him to strive and push and always do his best. I don't want him to shrink and hide and slide into the background so he can "fit" in the way that I did. I want him to be great and strong and amazing. I want him to find his talents and push them to the brink and to reach new heights with each and every one. I want him to find his weaknesses and push through them and find new strength through those trials (it would be great if that didn't have to happen - but I'm beginning to see some of the purpose of weakness - although I've always been so ashamed of mine in the past). I want him to see how God's strength can step in and pull you up and out of your weakness and in Him that you can be made strong.

So, here I am. Unfinished. A work in progress. And so is this blog. I've started and stopped writing so many posts because the font or the background or whatever else wasn't right. Because I needed to introduce myself and set the stage and everything else...but I'll get to that. Today, God is telling me that I need to let myself be imperfect, that I need to begin this journey just the way that I am. I can make things pretty later, I can set the stage and introduce myself later....however, I can't continue to avoid this. I can't continue to hide and wait for the transformation to be complete. I need to take the journey, I need to do the work, and this is the first step. I don't know where this is going, but I don't have to yet.

I am Jessica. My husband is J and is the most amazing person I have ever known. My son is Owen, and I can't wait to be a part of making him just like his daddies (Abba and J) - and maybe a little like me. I want to be better, I want to connect, I want to be different, and I want to help other people whether they feel the same or completely different.
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