Tonight I met at the church with some other women to do crafts as part of our enrichment program. (The idea is to enrich our lives by learning new things and being together). I didn't actually do the crafts because I hadn't signed up and they were doing something I had done before, but it enabled me to focus on getting to know the other ladies.
I can't think of a single thing that anyone said or did that wasn't nice. In fact, they were all exceptionally nice. I enjoyed the conversation, I got to know a few girls, and I enjoyed myself. I hope I made a few friends.
But when I left, I felt strangely empty, and I have no idea why.
I've been sitting here in a funk trying to figure out what on earth is wrong with me. After all, I didn't lose my skirt, I didn't fall on my face, it was a good night. So what's the problem?
I can't say I've figured it all out but I think I am getting an idea. And I think it comes down to two things for me.
First, I think it's hard, and hurts, just a little, to start over. It's hard to not have people know you, strengths and weaknesses, and know who is going to still like you regardless. I was in a room with some amazing women, I could already tell that, and yet I still felt somehow alone. I am not one to sit back or not go, but I miss that feeling of unity. And I don't mean everyone getting alone perfect kind of unity, I mean more of a feeling of knowing each other. And accepting each other regardless. Although maybe it's even more amazing to feel accepted when people don't know me. And I did tonight.
Second, is the same thing I always struggle with. And that is myself. In my mind thoughts fly and flit around, essentially driving me crazy. And I plague myself with these questions:
Will they like me? Will I fit in? Will I be the nerd? Will I be the one nobody wants to get to know? Will I be overlooked? Am I annoying? Will anyone want to put their kids in my preschool? Will they put their kids in my preschool and then take them out because they don't like it? Will they see the inside of my house and the very very humble (thrift shop) furniture and see me as less? Will they think I'm a bad Mom? Will they judge me? Will they talk about me?
So silly, I know. And embarrassing to even admit. None of those things matter, they really don't. I know that. And actually, I'm much better now than I used to be. And honestly, I know there are people that thought those things of me and talked about me where I lived before. But the ones that didn't feel that way made it okay. I knew they loved me anyway. And maybe that's what I'm missing.
But they're still out there, right? It's just a matter of remembering that. And convincing myself that what people think doesn't matter.
I'm going to be me regardless. And even though I am good at finding my flaws, I kinda like me.
No Man's Land - Book Review
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