Some days I watch the news and I think, if someone killed me, no one would really miss me other than my husband and children, then there are days I think they would be better without me; for everyone else I seem to be burden on them. Not happy enough, talkative enough, too bossy or controlling, too kind, too helpful. Being told by family members that I’m never going to have friends, that I allow people to walk all over me, but also that I am too opinionated, too caring. I have been told by “friends” that I am too much and for some not enough. I have even been ridiculed for having faith.
And I wonder why my head and heart spin so much. Am I not enough or am I too much? Why can’t I just be? I know I do not fit in with everyone in this town. I never have.
In my clearer moments, this is what I tell myself:
I am me. I am an individual. I have something to offer people, be it friendship, a smile or a helping hand. My Dad always told me to stand on my own two feet. Never rely on someone else to get you through the day or to get you to where you want to go. And for the most part of my days, that is what goes through my head. I put on a good face to the outside world. I smile because it makes me happy. I believe I can tell myself what to think, I won’t let others dictate how I feel. I choose to be happy. I choose to have faith in myself that I can get through this. I choose to live. I choose to ignore the negative people who are so sad in their own lives that they feel they have the right to put someone down, to tell them they are nothing when they themselves are nothing. No one can tell me I am not worth my life.
Sounds very uplifting. Very strong.
Until it’s not.