Sometimes I think my brain is missing the bit that usually fits somewhere between the thought generator and the communication station. I think I need to take my filter back and get a refund. There are so many times in my life where I’ve said something, then had to dwell in the awkward silence while everyone – including myself – wonders where the heck that thought came from.
One particularly glorious occasion was when I was out with my boyfriend and we happened to see his parents who were having dinner. He went over to say hi while I bought our food, then came back and told me how his Dad had made a joke that they were sitting at the ‘cool table’ so we couldn’t join them.
Before I continue this story, I must point out that his Dad scared the living daylights out of me. It wasn’t just that he was one of those quiet, mysterious, all-round-intimidating dudes. I was terrified he thought I wasn’t good enough for his one-and-only son.
Of course, it was only polite that I went over to say hello as well. As we were approaching the table I tried to come up with something funny to join in with the joke, something along the lines of‘sorry I’ve bought the uncool guy back to your table.’ *Cue cheesy recorded laughter* A million options whirred through my head as I desperately sought the one witty phrase that would both entertain and win the approval of my boyfriend’s scary Dad. Unfortunately I panicked, and in a last-ditch attempt to come up with something I accidentally blurted out:
“I’m sorry, are we not cool enough for you?!”
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t say a word. He continued to eat his meal, looked straight ahead and, presumably, imagined a better world where it never rained and I wasn’t dating his son (fortunately not long after that he got his wish).
Meanwhile I went bright red to the point where local bulls stormed Auckland’s CBD, eating cars and terrorising small children.
Thanks, brain filter. Really had my back there, didn’t you?
Awkward confession #6 : I was terrified of having these confessions posted online. Terrified. After our first discussion about potentially putting my thoughts into something resembling a piece of writing, it took Sam a good couple of months to actually wheedle it out of me. Even then I kept putting off the inevitable, combing through each post, trying to find any accidental faux-pas, making sure I didn’t come across as a complete tosser. I wanted to be real about my experiences, but I also hate being vulnerable. Even more so, I hate admitting my faults. Each new post was accompanied by gut-churning fear. What if people think I’m weird? What if people think I’m stupid?! What if I’m WRONG?!? What if NO-ONE LIKES ME?!?! WHAT IF EVERYONE THINKS I’M CRAZY?!?!? WHY AM I THINKING IN CAPSLOCK?!?!?! MAYBE I AM CRAZY!!!!!!! AAAAAAH *BRAIN EXPLOSION*
I never quite managed to nail the balance between humility and insecurity. Growing up I always tried to be modest and never, ever, ever compliment myself about anything at all ever. My humility strategy of never acknowledging anything good about myself quickly morphed into feeling like there was nothing worthwhile about me at all. My opinion of myself was solely based on the opinions of those around me. Even if I thought I was rubbish, as long as other people thought I was alright I could still get up in the morning.
Because of this I always sought the approval of others, in particular my parents. I quickly learnt that I got the most praise when I achieved something, so I pushed myself to do everything, be the best, get good grades, all the usual stuff you’ve heard a thousand times before. Woe is me. Unfortunately my parents had set the bar rather high – Head Boy and Head Girl at the same time (a bit cute), captains of the top rugby and netball teams, Dad was dux, Mum won the‘all-rounder’ trophy. They pretty much ticked all the over-achiever boxes. I, however, did not. I always hovered on the cusp of greatness, at the upper end of average but never quite crossing the threshold into true awesomeness. I made the logical-ish assumption that my parents would never be proud of me because I had achieved nothing compared to them. I was a disappointment, a failure.
My obsession with achievement meant I quickly became disillusioned with God. My somewhat skewed interpretation of Christianity led me to believe that anything I was good at I had to give all the credit to God, but all the bad stuff, all my faults were all me. The way I saw it, Christianity taught me that I was just a useless, sinful, unworthy shell and all I could do was hope that God might work in me to do something good. I hated Christianity for taking my achievements away from me. The only thing that gave me value was my achievements, if I couldn’t take credit for them I had nothing. I was nothing.
I hated going to church because I felt like I was surrounded by happy people who had it all together. From what I could see I was the only one who was a mess, so church was ironically where I felt the most lonely. I remember going to a sermon on insecurities where the pastor talked about this amazing girl he used to date. It was the usual story: beautiful girl, kind heart, drives a 2 hour round-trip to volunteer at a youth group every Wednesday, great at sport, sponsors 2 children, intelligent, hard-working, completely perfect in every way. And … dum dum dummm … she was insecure *shocked gasp*. I did NOT see that coming! I sat there thinking ‘I am none of those things… Does that mean I should feel insecure?’
I may or may not have taken things a little too far...
For a start, credit has nothing to do with it. God has given me gifts (at least I hope he has... I’ll have to get back to you on that one). He didn’t give them to me to rub it in that He’s better than me. He didn’t give them to me to make me feel guilty. He didn’t give them to me to make me feel useless. God has given me gifts because He wants me to have them. He gave them to me to make the most of them. My decision to embrace these gifts and pursue the path God wants for me is just as honourable as any achievement I might have along the way.
Humility also isn’t about giving credit. It isn’t about self-deprecation. Humility doesn’t ask us to feel depressed or unworthy. Humility doesn’t diminish our strengths, it merely acknowledges our weaknesses. Humility recognises that we have a need. Humility reminds us that maybe we aren’t the most important person in the universe. Humility is what reigns us in when we have arrogant jack-ass tendencies.
I would love to say I have grown and evolved and my insecurities are like, soooo totally high school. They’re not. From time to time I still have irrational freak-outs worrying that everyone thinks I’m a loser. I still have mornings where I look in the mirror and think I look like a dude. I am still very critical and self-deprecating (a side-effect of living in Australia. Every time I said something stupid I got into the habit of anticipating the response – ‘yes, I know, I suck and so does my country. Thanks guys.’). Saying something good about myself still makes me feel a bit sick. But I have been working very hard to re-train my thoughts to be confident in the person God made me to be.
I am smart-ish and capable and real and, so I’ve been told, “kind of” a babe (was going for“completely”, but what can you do…). I am also incredibly and irrevocably flawed. But it’s not my job to judge myself. When I reach the pearly gates I’m not going to find a note saying “If you really think you’re good enough, come on in. If not please take the door to your left, go down 3 flights of stairs, turn right, knock 3 times on the door saying ‘6H’ and enjoy an eternity in hell. Love, Big JC xoxo” At the end of the day, it’s just not my call. It is my responsibility to discern my sins and repent. I definitely have a lot of weaknesses and I acknowledge the need for God in my life. But it is not my job to punish myself. I punished myself for years and it was paralysing.
I think as a culture we tend towards bringing ourselves down, and quite often we bring others down to our level so that we don’t feel so bad hovering in the undergrowth. Whatever happened to encouragement? Encouragement is AWESOME! We should be encouraging each other all the time. Every time someone gives me a word of encouragement about my writing it makes me want to kiss them (in an on-the-cheek, totally cool and European kind of way). It builds me up and helps contain the cycle of fear that spirals around in the dark patches of my head. I appreciate knowing that I don’t just crack myself up. This is in no way a request for future compliments. Rather, it is a challenge. These blogs have been posted on a public forum so they pretty much automatically ask for a response. But my question to you is this: what are the little things the people around you have been doing that make your day just that little bit brighter? Who in your life could you be encouraging more?
My second, much more difficult question, is what should you be encouraging in YOU? What do you think God values in you? What do you like about yourself? Eeek, I know it’s a bit awkward. But there must be something. Encouragement is important but if you’re stuck in a rut of self-loathing the real change has to happen in you. It starts with whatever is going on inside your head. What are you telling yourself? Even with high-fives and positive affirmation from those around us, our self-talk can be remarkably different to the truth. My suggestion is to take out that ‘I suck’ cassette tape that you’ve been playing on loop and upgrade to the mental iPod of awesomeness. Welcome to the 21st century, where technology is smarter than you but you’re cool anyway. It’s a world where confidence and arrogance are actually two different things – hence the two different words (a dead giveaway). You can believe in yourself without being excessively superior and self-involved. And let’s be honest, if you do turn into an arrogant prat I’m sure you have a friend who will slap you out of it. If not, I will gladly volunteer my services. I’m good like that.
Growing up is a bit scary, but as we get closer to dropping the ‘young’ and becoming real adults it’s time to make friends with ‘responsibility’. Take responsibility for your mistakes. But also take responsibility for acknowledging and developing your strengths. No matter what you think, they do exist – you just have to find them and believe in them.
Let me put it a different way. The Wright Brothers created the aeroplane. Even if you think they cause too much pollution and the seats in economy don’t have enough leg room, you have to admit that what they created is pretty amazing. When they are going in the right direction and are piloted in the right way they are truly incredible. The Wright Bros themselves were pretty cool dudes (plus Orville had a particularly snazzy moustache) and no-one would insult them by saying their creation is crap.
Well, God created you. Think about it.
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