Sometimes, life gets hard. It's been close to a year since I last updated my blog. Writing was something I told myself I would do more of and as life gets busy, it took a backseat. I made a promise to myself that 2020 was going to be a better year, that I was going to practice self-care, and get back to the things I love, including writing.
Coming into 2020, and starting to work on my goals and vision for the year, I realize how hard I still am on myself. I feel like I keep finding myself in a perpetual valley that I can't climb out of and I am struggling to allow those who are close to me to sit in that valley with me. I get stuck in my head and feel like I am a burden and I don't know how to ask for help when I need it.
Last night at church, I got called out by one of my close friends. We were having a conversation about this goal we've set of doing the 5k at the Pig this year and how my hope is that it will be a jumping point to train for the half again next year in 2021, with the hope of PR'ing in that half. He's always so positive and he was dreaming big about these bigger goals he thinks we should accomplish and I immediately shut him down. I told him that training for a half was difficult enough, that I knew I could never do more than that, and on and on it went. He immediately pushed back on me and asked me why I do that to myself, why I constantly say I can't do something instead of allowing myself to believe that I can do it. I tried to jokingly push back and I told him that training for a half marathon was difficult enough, that everything that could go wrong, did go wrong while I was training and I knew my body couldn't hold up to 26 miles. He just shook his head at me, telling me that he hates when I respond this way instead of believing that I am capable of doing anything I set my mind to.
A little later, I found myself doing laps around the outside of the church building (in tall boots with a heel on them of course) and immediately complaining that I couldn't walk in these shoes, that I hated that he was making me do this, etc. I even joked with some friends after that I didn't like him for making me do this, that I was going to be sore, and my boots weren't made for 5k training. As we were waiting for our church service to start, he called me out and told me I was being negative and he asked me why I was being that way. I shot back with the fact that I wasn't, that I was being honest about my feet hurting, and he pushed back and told me that my immediate response to anything is negative. I didn't know how to respond, so I turned away from him on the pretense of having a conversation with another friend, but I was hurt. I was angry. I didn't like being called out and I especially didn't like it because I thought he was wrong.
After sitting on it for all of service and then having a conversation with one of my friends on the parking team about how much the words spoken from main stage got to me, I realized that he was right. That of course made me even more angry. And it made me sad. I didn't appreciate being called out and I hated that not only had he noticed it, but one of my friends on the parking team saw through what I was feeling last night too and spoke some truth to my heart.
So why was I angry? And why was he right? Because I am negative. I know friends who will argue that but it's true. I am quick to tell myself I can't do something. I am quick to shoot down new ideas because I am fearful of failure. I fear the unknown. I don't like change. It doesn't matter how much time passes and it doesn't matter that I've been doing the work in therapy, I still get stuck inside of my head. I still struggle to believe in myself.
I was quick to anger and hurt last night not because he was right, but because he saw right through me. He knows me well enough that he is not afraid to call me out and speak truth to me. He saw a piece of my heart and that scared me. I think I do a good job of keeping my walls up and not letting people get close and instead, I have this community of people who see the real me, who care about me and aren't afraid to call me on my stuff when I need it.
As I've sat and dwelled on this for the past 24 hours, I realized that my self-deprecating side needs to go. Back in the fall, I visited my childhood home and let go of the chains that were holding me back and told myself that fear no longer has a place here. But as new opportunities arise and as things have changed A LOT in the past few months, I've let that fear creep back in and I've started letting those lies creep back in.
I want 2020 to be a year of complete freedom. I want it to be a year of healing. That can't happen if I don't believe it to be true. So while I was angry in the moment with how last night played out, I am thankful for the people who see the real me and aren't afraid to call me out on it. Fear has no place here and it's time for those chains to go. 2020 is a year of freedom, healing, and grace. I am speaking it into existence. Let's do this.
