My Greatest Insecurity?
Learning to love myself is not an easy task.
Right out of the gate, I'll admit that one of my greatest insecurities is what I consider a mental disfunction. I've written about my mental health quite a bit, but that insecurity I've never bothered to mention is not being able to get my actual thoughts across in the most simplest way possible which is simply being straight forward. This has been an ongoing struggle and insecurity my entire life. It isn't that I can't verbalize my thoughts properly, it's explaining them and driving the person I'm explaining it to into a zone of confusion. At first, I thought this was a comedic ability, but I've begun to realize it's an issue I wish wasn't a thing.
Insecurities are things we all have that we find hardest to trust being known by just any person. Such is why, today, whenever I think of something creative in a group setting I begin to realize to myself that no one will ever understand so I force myself to keep it inside to lessen the embarrassment. Aside from this mental issue, I've got a pretty substantial (at least in my eyes) list that I'm sure you'd get a kick out of reading.
However, out of all of the insecurities I once wrote out, I'm forcing myself to be brave, come out about it and use it to maybe change your perspective in the process.
I....don't love who I am. Bluntly speaking, I hate myself.
Sure, I struggle with keeping my weight steady and wished that I was under 200lbs, but to love myself, I just can't.
Throughout my entire adult life, I've attended many young adult ministry studies that have talked about God having made me in His image and that alone should be enough to feel convinced that I'm beautiful. It's not though. So why do I? Why is it so hard for me to love myself? Heck, even as I attempt to write this, I'm thinking to myself would anyone even bother to spare a minute to learn of the hardship that comes with being my type of slow because for the last few days I've struggled with the thought that no one actually cares.
I hate myself because of how slow I am. To function like a normal human being is a dream. Instead, on a day to day basis I have questioned my existence which has caused me to not want to do anything knowing its a waste of time. Doing this itself is a challenge, really. I hate that I have to ask for something simple to others to be explained in details because my brain knit-picks everything to the point of feeling like I'm in a padded room having a quiet meltdown. That is embarrassing, the amount of times it happens is even more embarrassing to the point of wanting to walk off to rid myself of that cloud of embarrassment that floats above my head.
How do I reverse this? Have I yet?? I'm working on that. Nothing happens overnight, it'd be nice if that's how life worked.
Not being able to love myself I think is a factor behind why I've never been a church leader, but when that light faded off I've come to grips that I work better behind the scenes as an outcast. When I use the term 'outcast', I'm not saying that in an offensive fashion. Perspectively speaking, an outcast is someone who doesn't fit in with the norm[al] which is 100% okay. Normal people who are around my age find it to be fun going out to parties that involves smoking, drink and wild dancing. I do none of that and am perfectly fine with it.
While what I've stated may seem and come off as boring to you, an outcast such as myself sees fun as being at a theater with a few friends and joking about the movie throughout the entire movie while still being able to enjoy it just as fun as hitting the clubs and having a night out on the town.
Ever so slowly, I'm learning that loving myself isn't about settling for less and that lesser thing being a knock-off version of the actual thing you wanted. Loving myself, yourself too, is embracing how different I am from everyone else.
Bringing this to a close. There was this church I used to attend with my family in Victorville, Bible Baptist Church. Its the classy type where everyone wears suits and dresses, hardly or no street clothes at all. I've never worn a suit in my life and I told myself that I wasn't about to start now in order to look the part or fit in. Proudly, every week I would walk through the double glass doors wearing a pair of shorts and simple t-shirt, I stuck out like my old Nissan Sentra did that was a bright Yellow in any parking lot.
One of the last Sunday's that I attended service I'd gotten a new shirt in the mail from a streetwear brand that fit my taste in style. The design contained a skull of some sort. To say the pastor couldn't stop glancing at my shirt throughout the entire duration of his class is almost laughable.
Now the question remains, do you love yourself? Be real with yourself.