Yep. I said it. For most of my life, I have been insecure.
I was insecure before I met Josh. Being with him gave me a sense of safety, belonging, a feeling of being loved and important. But I remained insecure.
Now, after losing him, after facing (or avoiding) every challenge that comes with tragic loss and widowhood, I have sunk lower than I have been in a long time. I cannot look in the mirror without at least a small amount of disgust for what I’ve “let” myself become. I think of who I am – or rather who I think I might be – and I am consistently appalled and disappointed.
Cat’s out of the bag. I do not like myself.
I have hope. And I find inspiration through beautiful words and walks through nature. I have an extraordinarily kind and gentle soul. But like someone recently told me, I’m a little rough around the edges.
I am able to stand up for people that I care about. I will fight for justice and fair treatment in causes that speak to me. You will always have me in your corner if I believe in your cause.
I cannot find the ability to do that for myself. I don’t see anyone in my life who would do the same for me. Because I don’t believe that I am worthy.
Like I said – I have always struggled with insecurity. But I have taken steps to start fighting for myself. I am learning to take control of my actions and own the negative thoughts that float through my mind. I am hopeful to create positive change. I want nothing more than to be completely content within myself – regardless of what the outside world wants to tell me.
I am in therapy. Something I really wish I had begun years and years ago.
I have been following an eating plan that is teaching me appropriate portion sizes and helping me to avoid the quick, easy, processed junk I’ve been filling myself with.
I am training to run a 5K – and potentially a 10K after that.
I am taking steps to learn to love myself. I know my biggest hurdle will be my mind. Because I have had trauma in my life, I am constantly questioning other people’s motives. I am constantly telling myself that I could and should have done something better. I don’t speak up for myself because I “know” that I will be ignored. My thoughts, ideas and opinions have not been heard so many times in the past that I have learned to believe that they are not important or relevant.
I fight battles every day that nobody will ever see.
This is me. A little glimpse, anyway.
Also: PSA to people driving while a young woman is out running – do not slow down to get a better look, do not whistle out the window, do not honk your horn. You may think that you are just “showing your appreciation” and giving her a “confidence boost”. At least in my experience that couldn’t be farther from the truth. As I am learning to love myself, I am like a toddler learning to walk – I fall down a lot. Every time I feel like nothing more than something to look at I hate myself a little more and love myself a little less. Show some respect. Please.