Friday, April 10, 2015
no rose questions why | an exploration of insecurity
There's something we all have, but we know not to talk about. It looks, feels, sounds different for all of us, but it's there in our lives, constant and creeping, sometimes falling dormant and then growing to the point of almost eating us alive. Though this sounds like a riddle, a sneaky, snarky joke, it's an every day reality.
They're there, always waiting, wanting, ready to woo us into some ugly ghost of our real selves. Usually I spot them on someone else far quicker than I realize their appearance in my own actions and behaviors. But, as of late, I hear a little whisper that warns me when insecurity is sneaking in and I'm putting up sarcastic walls and applying my smiling mask.
Insecurities are there, always. Like our breath and our hair and our need for water and food. Like God and love and light. Always there.
But they're not our definitions.
We have a choice, to fall victim or to honor what's true. Those little devils on our shoulders that say "you're too small, too young, too fat, too thin" whisper angrily into our ears. We let labels fall down on us, climb into the box placed at our feet, and hedge ourselves in while pretending we don't mind.
Avoidance feels right. So we skip the skinny jeans and drink protein shakes for breakfast. We veer away from the old friend in Target before they see us and hide our red-rimmed eyes behind sunglasses. We hide in the face of new adventure and shrink back from big dreams.
But it's not those that are the most threatening.
No, the insecurities that rock me and scare me and leave the bravest part of me rolled in a tiny, protective fetal position aren't about my body or age, but about my soul. They say things like "ugly, boring, unnecessary, replaceable, unlovable". And my soul tastes their metallic flavor like blood on the tongue.
It's those that justify my resting bitch face, my cold shoulders, my stand-offish behavior. I pretend it makes me cool, calm, aloof, and somehow more attractive and necessary in this role of living. I hide the fear I will not succeed, often riddled with jealousy of other's success. I deny any frustration with my recent (usually unimportant) shortcomings and act confident. I feel insecurities deep within my tender heart and they scare me, so I establish an outward shell in hopes of saving myself some hurt.
It's important to say they're liars.
Regardless of how true those "ugly, boring, unnecessary, replaceable, unlovable" words feel, they lie. Yes, insecurities establish their roots in teeny, tiny, almost invisible cracks and wait. They wait for the moment a shift happens and they can slip through, finding some sort of nutrition, and they grow. They grow and grow, sustained by your fear.
The struggle is real, it's something I'll fight from now until forevermore. But seeing those dark clouds on the horizon, the shadowy threat of insecurity, I get to choose: steel up to contain the scared or break open and share. May I always, always, move towards the latter.
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