I stayed up late looking at an Instagram account of a leader who is racing to the top of the Direct Sales company I’m with.
She has over 110, 000 followers and I scrolled back through over 2,300 posts to try to figure out why and how…what is her secret sauce.
She is young; I’m easily 20 years older than she is. This is what the IG story showed. Her days of prom and high school graduation. A father who has Parkinson’s. She has two moms. She adores her family. She has a younger sister and two (at least) brothers. She was going to study graphic design and has now become a make-up artist. She was overweight. Now she’s fit. Her IG feed is about 80% pictures of herself looking extremely attractive and 20% other which could include the food she’s eating or her family or her companions or celebrations.
What is her secret sauce? What makes her attractive? I suspect it is her confidence; her complete and total SELF that she is being. Her BEING. I could judge or criticize her for any number of petty things. This only serves to point out to me my insecurities. I don’t understand how or why taking so many pictures of herself ATTRACTS. She gives little advice or encouragement. She shows her beauty, creativity, confidence, and zeal. She is the story.
I fear to be perceived as vain. I rarely take photos of myself because I can’t imagine measuring up.
But my mantra is Love You Be You, which is fulfilling – self-fulfilling, and she is fulfilling that.
That’s where the pangs are. She is doing, acting, being, that which I wish to be.
I’m playing the comparing game and losing to a stranger.
I was raised to hide. Even the other day my Mom admonished me not to tell, “No one needs to know that.” She said. Not because it’s shameful but she didn’t further say why.
I’ve spent so much of my life not even knowing who I am, listening to other people describe their experience of me with wonder…is that really who I am? I have no idea. I go about my business, my day, my joy, present but unexamined. It is the privilege of my position, living as I do where I do, that I get to experience this.
Stay with it.
After my workout today I bawled.
I’m sure it can be said that the focus and intention and strength required of me kicked my ass a bit. I do hard things with joy and sweat and determination.
I think the tears came in part from the realization that I am doing something big and open and scary. I am putting myself out there again.
I pray that I will be safe and held and encouraged along the way.
I have been abandoned at times. I have heard the whispers. When certain people see me coming they move away, avoiding me because of what they perceive I am going to say or do.
Bottom line, I have committed to this journey of self-discovery and more important, self-love, which is the scariest thing of all. I have exposed myself, made myself vulnerable, and am willing to show more to help others reach what I can only describe as ecstatic peace.
No one can pull it out of me. Only I can Love Me.
Only you can Be You.
Are you?
I thought I was…but the more I do this living thing, the more I realize I was not. It’s terrifying and exhilarating.
Sometimes I have to take it slow.
Sometimes I have to race.
Sometimes I have to do jumping jacks in place to move the anxiety and anger and disappointment and rage out of my body.
Overall, I promise to persist.
Do you hear that, Lucila? Persist.
I make a contract with myself to choose me.
I choose me over poor feeling thoughts.
I choose God to rule over it all.
I choose Life.