After a friend’s recent blog post, and subsequent conversation about said post, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. This idea of…who am I? The journey of discovering your self. Figuring out who you are can be really elusive, and I honestly didn’t even KNOW that I didn’t know who I was, until I finally figured out who I am. Bear with me here…
My first in a series of epiphanies that have recently occurred, is that I haven’t been ME in at least 3 or 4 years. Since my first son was diagnosed with autism (the same month my second child was born) in 2004, I have been in survival mode. Struggling to just get through every day, and never really being happy with what I had done or been at the end of each day. It was marvelous.
Depressed for most of the time, I couldn’t even be bothered to CARE that I was just surviving. I had a snarky blog that I kept anonymous so I could complain about anything and everything. Sadly, many people read that blog and commiserated. I’m sure most of the unhappy bloggers out there see many more visits than the happy bloggers do. Too much misery to go around, and like an over-soaked sponge it just seeps out all over everything. I was far away from my true self, and worse–far away from God. When you’re miserable the last thing you want to read about or write about is happiness.
Also, let’s be honest…I didn’t care what I looked like AT ALL. I couldn’t be bothered to worry about my body or my looks when there were these kids that took every last cell in my body every day. I realize now that I was not being a good steward of my body, never mind giving my husband something appealing to come home to every day. On top of everything else, I didn’t have a home that reflected me. Having a passion for interior design and NOT painting or decorating my house, well, you know something had to have been wrong.
So, I’m looking back and seeing this woman and wondering who the heck she was or is, and I realize something. When have I lived through and through as ME? I wonder if I have EVER been myself or known who I am before this past year. Reflection of the last 10 years or so has brought me to the realization that I just kind of flitted and floated around, changing myself to be like whoever I surrounded myself with. Not just hobbies, but taste, personality, faith, everything.
This brings me to the here and now. I know who I am, or at least I know who I want to be. It sounds so simple, but how can that be such a hard thing to achieve? Knowing yourself. It can’t really be just that I’m turning 30 in a few weeks, can it? Is there some magical self-enlightenment that spawns from the big 3-0? I finally feel like ME, and it’s so liberating. Like I was in there all along and just never nurtured her before, acknowledged her. The shackles are off, it’s time to dance.
I feel confident in who I am, the soul God gave me. The spiritual gifts that He blessed me with have never empowered me like they do now. I feel like I know MY style, not the style of what others are bringing to the table. My home is slowly becoming more and more me, and we all know how important it is that our home reflects who we are. My health is kinda in the dumps right now due to thyroid problems, but my recent epiphany that I need to be a vegan has injected new life and hope where I had become pretty hopeless. I know these things might sound trivial, especially to those that have *known* this about themselves for some time, but to me they mean a lot. Surrounding myself with people I love and being the real me is such an enormous gift. It frees me up to really seek joy and an abundant life, and most of all it frees me up to help others.
Freedom, you never looked so good.