December 8 – Beautifully Different.
Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.
(Author: Karen Walrond)
*NOTE: This is a difficult prompt for me to answer. It might not make sense but it is what comes to mind straight away, so I go with it. Forgive me for this “mindless” ramble.
“If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original.” – Sir Ken Robinson
That quote sums up everything about me really. All my life I have been afraid to make mistakes and be wrong. I was taught that making mistakes was something that just wasn’t acceptable. If I was too slow retrieving a tool for my dad when he was working on something, he would get mad. When I rolled down the window of my ’71 Thunderbird my uncle had given me and the window wouldn’t roll back up (it had power windows) my dad threw a wrench at my head that just missed me by inches. Making a mistake, being too slow, not being quick enough or his version of smart enough was unacceptable. In my case I was never pretty enough, never thin enough, never good enough where my father was concerned. One of my friends in high school was though. And my father never let me forget that. She was everything I was not. When I did try to stretch my legs and be my own person with my own identity my first summer working in Montana, SHE came out with my dad to pick me up and of course everything became about her and I faded to the background yet again. She was everything my father considered beautiful and unfortunately, my “unique-ness” was not. He wanted a daughter made in his image, cookie cut by his own design. I was anything but that.
This has been a year of me trying to figure out who I am. And that quote by Sir Ken Robinson in his book, “The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything” hit me like a frigid January wind. I am not prepared to be wrong. I don’t like to be wrong – and when I say this, I’m not talking about being wrong in an argument or disagreement. I am simply afraid to mess up and make mistakes. Therefore, how am I possibly capable of anything original? I’m not! I’m a farce. That is what I think! I wonder what my husband sees in me. What could he possibly love about me. What about friends? Why are they my friends when I wouldn’t even be a friend to me if I were them. I wonder, what if they finally figure out what a fake I am? I am always wondering these things. Because I see all my faults, all my blemishes, all my “unique qualities” as imperfections and I wonder how could anyone love that. The funny thing is and I know this might not make sense, is I never have wanted to be anyone else but myself. I have always liked my life. I love my husband, my child, my mother, my uncles, my friends, my “brother” Brandon who is more brother to me than my own blood family is. So why do I feel this way – that I am not good enough?
Am I different? Yes! Am I different in a way that lights up others? I don’t think so. I am different in that I love the smell of skunk (not wet skunk), I love pickle sandwiches, I have a silly sense of humor and I’m not afraid to make fun of myself or make a fool of myself. I have somehow managed to hold on to my childlike wonder about things. I talk to trees. I roll down hills and make snow angels. I love being a dork. Being different IS beautiful but it is all I see as being beautiful about myself. I try to lose weight. I work out, I count calories but the weight won’t come off. I am physically fit but in many ways, I think I sabotage myself. I do it physically, I do it when it comes to my writing. I do it with certain friendships. How is that beautiful? How can I be beautiful if my own father couldn’t or wouldn’t accept me just as I am?