I was raised in a household that taught me I could be anything I wanted to be. I was raised in a household that told me that it was who I am inside that counts. I was raised in a household that told me it was my strength of character and my strength of courage that counted far more than what was in the bank. I was raised in a household that said I was special and unique and loved.
Then, at the age of six, I started school.
I was raised in a social environment that told me that I was being judged by what was on the outside--and that as the fat girl in the classroom, I was worthless. I was raised in a social environment that looked at the income my family made and told me I would never amount to much. I grew up in a school environment that said, special and unique mean different and unacceptable--and yes, you surely are. I grew up with people who not only saw I was different and special and unique but used those things, on more than one occasion to isolate and hurt me.
I learned at an early age that while my mother believed that it's what is on the inside that counts and that I should never judge someone by what I can see with my eyes. I learned a few years later, that while I was not to judge others--I would be judged quickly and often--by what I looked like, what I wore, and how I appeared to those around me. And that I would fall short of "acceptable" or "popular" on a weekly, if not daily basis.
29 years of life with my mother taught me that strength and dignity could far outweigh what anyone else believed of me and that if I put my mind, heart, and soul into something I could overcome the steepest odds stacked against me. Twelve years of parochial school taught me that while I might believe what my mom taught me--I had best not share it with anyone else. It taught me not to trust anyone who hadn't proved themselves beyond an shadow of a doubt and it taught me that I had best not let anyone who wasn't my friend know that they had gotten to the core of me and could hurt me.
33 years of life I battled those two conflicting viewpoints--believing most of the time those things that are worst about myself and the best about the majority of the population. Who am I kidding? I still struggle..still don't feel like I'm acceptable and worthy. But. 3 years ago (give or take a month or two) I was introduced to Jesus Christ. Don't get me wrong, I already knew Him...but I didn't know Him like I know Him now. I knew that He loved me and had died for my sins...but I didn't know that He could really be a friend to me. I didn't know that He loved me for who I was. A few years ago I learned that I am a child of God. That God made me and loves me and that I AM acceptable and special and unique--and that those are good things. Sometimes I still struggle with it...sometimes I don't believe good things about myself. But I'm learning, that at the core I am a wonderfully made child of God, that I matter to Him and that I belong. And that nothing anyone here on earth can say changes that.
Please don't get me wrong. I had good times, good friends, and good memories of my 12 years of parochial school. I learned much--and I'm sure that for as many hurtful things that were said to me...I hurt a few people as well. For anyone who is reading this that I hurt, know that I am sorry.
What brought this on, you ask? Facebook. I have friends on there; some of them that I never would have thought were my friends back then...let alone now. And sometimes I struggle with that...because while I generally accept people for who they are...sometimes I judge by what I remember and from the pain I carry. For some...I have unfairly judged by who they seemed to be so many years ago than by finding out who they are now. And...perhaps in doing so I have shut out or cut off the possibility of friendship with someone who God intended to put me beside...to support, to love, and to befriend.
The question is...am I strong enough to follow through with what I think He desires me to do...or will I balk and protect my own heart and shut out the world...the world I say I want to reach through my writing and through my life...for Him?
I can only hope. And to that person who told me today that I am special...thank you. I struggled with knowing what to say or how to handle it...because you are just one of those people I never thought would see anything about me from the inside. Corny or not...It made me feel good. And maybe, I need to learn not to be so hard on people...from the review mirror.
Blessings and Peace
Vicky
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Hello Vicky, yes, everyone is special. Kids in general are mean. My only girl is in 5th grade and being treated unfairly by the girls. Somethings never change.
ReplyDeleteI like your blog.