ART.

I don’t remember a time in life where I haven’t wanted to shrink. It is my go-to response in stress. I have always felt like I was “too much.” My body is too much. My personality is too much. My behavior is too much. In every respect of the word, I’ve wanted to shrink.

I remember a girl in high school that I longed to be. I won’t mention her name, but I remember thinking that if I could just be more like her, quiet, frail, shy…that I would be happy and accepted.

Anxiety is fun because you overanalyze every interaction.

“WHY did I say that?!”

“WHY was I so excited?!”

“WHY was I so loud?!”

“WHY was I so much?”

I can remember, and feel shame about, instances 20 years ago where I got bit because I was too much.

This morning, as a 35 year old, semi-confident, wife, and mother…I felt it again. I felt the need to shrink. I badgered myself with questions. “Why are you this way?” “Why can’t you just be more chill?” The feelings felt familiar and very unwelcome. So I began to pray and journal. I thought about other messy people. I thought about who God made ME to be. I’ve always been a pioneer. I don’t do things like other people. I’ve never really fit in to any sort of “normal” life. I’m not saying I’m okay with that, but I see it. For someone that just wants to be accepted, it’s hard. But since I feel the need to shrink, I asked God to help me grow. I might never color inside the lines, but that’s what makes art right? Not everyone likes the same art. People can look at the same painting and see completely different value. A Jackson Pollock is yard sale trash to one person, and a $140 MILLION treasure to another. So it’s up to me to just be who I am and not let the world decide the value of my art.