Last Friday, I posted the first half of this piece with three lies I believed about myself:
Lie #1: I’m not beautiful.
Lie #2: I’m the supporting actress.
Lie #3: I don’t deserve a good man.
Each of these lies has affected the person I’ve become, the woman I’ve grown to be. But since they were lies, they have in many ways held me back, preventing me from fully embracing my destiny, you might say. I have the ability, the potential, the chance to become the amazing woman God created me to be. But I need to be willing to let go of the lies. To leave them behind. And first I need to recognize what they are and see what they’ve done to my peace of mind.
So here are the final three lies I believed. The final three lies I convinced myself must be true, regardless of what other said, or what I wished…
Lie #4: I’m awkward.
Okay, I am awkward. This isn’t really a lie. But I’ve exaggerated my awkwardness in my own mind, allowing it to become something that holds me back, hindering me from living the exciting life I imagine I could have. I’ve told myself that I’m awkward in conversations. I’m awkward around men. I’m awkward when I talk. I’m awkward when I’m in a new place with new people. I’ve convinced myself I’m awkward in every possible situation, which leaves me with nothing but the solitude of my room. And I’ve accepted that. I’ve told myself that because of my awkwardness, I’m destined to be alone. I’ve condemned myself to a life without meaningful friendships/relationships, new experiences, and impulsive adventures, because I’m too awkward to enjoy them.
But I’m only as awkward as I allow myself to be. Some of my awkwardness is due to my shy, introverted nature. But the rest of it is something I allowed myself to become. I retreated into my awkwardness and let it take over parts of my life where it doesn’t belong. I let it define me.
The truth? I’m not awkward. I’m only used to being so.
Lie #5: I’m the ‘smart girl.’
Also, not exactly a lie. I’m rather intelligent. College was the best time of my life, and not because I did crazy, stupid things and partied the whole time. No, I was able to learn. I was allowed to sit in a classroom and discuss things I was passionate about. I was encouraged to be the nerdy bookworm who loved to write. I was able to become that.
Since I was the smart girl, however, I told myself I couldn’t be anything else. I couldn’t be the adventurous girl, the pretty girl, the funny girl, the sexy girl, the daring girl, the (blank) girl. No, I could only be one thing, and I was smart. I put myself in a box, preventing myself from engaging in experiences that took me out of what was familiar. I created my own stereotype, and self perpetuated it, forgetting that when God gave me my intelligence, He also blessed me with a host of other things I was refusing to acknowledge.
The truth? I don’t have to be only one thing.
Lie #6: I’m not a writer.
I used to always make a distinction between being someone who writes and being a writer. I knew how to write. I could knock out a historiography, a comparative essay on literature, a poem if I was feeling dark, or a short story when motivated. I was able to write so many things, but I wasn’t a writer. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t good enough for that title. Not yet.
I once told my sister my dream was to one day be introduced to a stranger as a writer. She looked at me with a bemused expression and said whenever she talked about me with her friends, she told them I was writer. Because, she said, that is who you are.
Being a writer in the depths of my soul is a part of who I am. I can’t separate it from my self, from my heart or mind. To try and convince myself that I wasn’t a writer was to deny a piece of what makes me, me. It was to try and be something I’m not. It meant I was living only half a life, ignoring the gift God gave me because of a lack of self confidence.
The truth? I’m a writer, because I need to write; not because I went to school or because I have a blog or because of the ideas in my head. I’m a writer because God made it so. I’m allowed to embrace it.
Are there any lies you’ve told yourself?
Thank you for reading! And maybe (definitely) follow me on Twitter. I’m pretty entertaining.