Insecure

This is one of those topics that is on my mind much of the time. It really rears its head, though, when the snow has melted, the grass has grown, and the mercury rises to the warm region on the thermometer.

Insecurity.

The dictionary defines the word secure as “free from or not exposed to danger or harm; safe”. For the majority of my life, the feeling of being secure has been elusive. Of course, there are different kinds of security. When I sit at the table to eat a meal, I don’t worry about the chair being unable to support me. When the rain is falling, I seldom wonder if the roof is going to leak. These securities, though, are found in things. I know inside our home, I am secure from outside elements–except for the occasional pest that finds its way in. Then Raid takes care of the problem.

There is another kind of security, though. This kind of security involves the inner me–how do I measure up to others around me. If you’ve read many of my previous entries, you already know that I struggle with being different than most. It is this type of insecurity that I refer to in this post.

Today I watched a video a Facebook friend had posted. The video’s purpose was to point out some serious flaws in our educational system and the result those flaws are having on society. The problem for me, though, was the fact that the video was filmed on a beach in warm, summer weather. People on a beach in summer are not wearing jeans, heavy coats, hats and gloves. And because modesty has become an outdated concept, those interviewed left little to the imagination. Almost instantly, that feeling of knowing I could never measure up to anyone like them hit and I found myself cursing summer once again–this time, for a different reason.

I know where these thoughts and beliefs originated. That is a topic I’m not quite ready to write about yet. Regardless, I have attempted several times to work on the insecurity that takes up residence in my heart. The truth is, I know the truth. God loves me as I am. I am His creation. Comparing myself to others does no good and is not healthy. I’ve heard all these–and more–many times. I’ve even heard words of affirmation from those who love me and that matter. It’s strange though, how someone’s words from the past–words that cut deep and left huge scars on my heart–hold so much power years after they were said. In fact, they overpower the words of those who currently love me, perhaps because they were spoken in those important formative years. Regardless of the reason, those words echo loudly in my head when I see images of beautiful people on a beach. The words of those who taunted me ring in my head–you are ugly, no one will ever love you, you will never find a husband who could love you…I could go on. And even though I know those words were spoken by those who struggled with their own demons, they still ring true–truer than words that are or have been spoken to try to override them.

I’m sure this is one of the underlying causes for my hatred of summer. It is difficult to live with oneself when one hates oneself so often. It is difficult to always be comparing oneself to others around–in the creativity category, the leadership (or lack thereof) category, and especially in the beauty (or also lack thereof) category. I so want God to take away the insecurity that haunts me constantly. I’ve asked Him to do so. I wonder if there is something I am missing since its removal has not happened after many, MANY years of struggle. I feel I have dealt with the cause of this. I have talked about it with a few close friends and even a few strangers as I sought counseling. I have forgiven when it was against everything in me to do so. I don’t know what else to do. Perhaps, this is just something I will need to live with the rest of my life. If so, I hope it isn’t a very long life, for living like this is not only hell on me, it is hell on those around me, especially my husband who doesn’t understand why I think the way I do. I don’t understand it either so it isn’t something I can explain to him. Sometimes I wish God had created all to be the same–exact same shape and size and dimensions, just vary the eye and hair color for some variety. He didn’t create that way, though. Sometimes I get angry and feel that God sabotaged me by creating me the way he did or by allowing those who hurt me so deeply to be part of my life. I try to fight that anger because I know that God answers to no one–He is the Creator and can do as He sees fit. I try to not think that I was passed over in so many areas and gifted in areas that really don’t mean much now. I try. I really do. But summer–well, summer seems to hit harder every year and reinforce all that I believed to be true for so long.

How does one unlearn what was once truth once they realize it really isn’t truth?

I wish I had that answer.

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About becmom45

Wife of one, mom of four, mom-in-law to two, grammy to one precious little boy; lover of snow, autumn, pumpkins, cats, books, baking, Charles Wysocki puzzles, Christmas; honest, raw author who hopes what is written here enlightens and educates those fortunate enough to not understand the demons chronicled.
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