old patterns

I had an interesting experience this week. I guess I should preface this experience with the story of my tow year battle. For the last two years I have really struggled with something. I have struggled with being happy with who I am. I have always felt like I never really belong. Maybe I don't feel like I don't belong, necessarily, but I have always felt like I am a little part of everything and every group I come into contact with. In high school I was a jock/orchestra geek/brainiac and i was friends with the goths, the jocks, the cholos, the jewish kids, and the gangsters. I never belonged to one particular group. I have always felt this way and I have always been fine with it.....till recently. I would go to work and hear the women at work talk about women wasting their lives on marriageand children. I would go to church and hear women in my presidency talk about how women who work did nothing important or significant because they didn't stayhome with their children. Again, I was in the middle. I always imagined my life with a house full of great kids while pursuing additional goals like having a great career. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had to choose. I really didn't like that feeling.

I would go to Bunko and the girls there would be taling about their families and everything they did with their children, then go to work the next day and hear my colleagues talk about some of the most challenging academic experiences they have ever had. I remember having a conversation with a member of my husband's family about maybe getting a doctorate someday and feeling like it was somewhat taboo....then I would talk to a member of my family of origin and they would tell me that i would never be anything until i had a doctorate. talk about mixed messages.

I cried over this, and I prayed over this, and I flet anxious and nervous whenever I was around one of the two groups. After two years, this light bulb kinda flashed in my head and I realized that it has nothing to do with these tow groups of people and everything to do with me. As long as I was happy with my life and my accomplishments, it matter what other people thought. This brings me back to my original thought.

I had a session with this black lady who told me all the things she hated about other black members of the church. She listed several things and I quickly realized that everything she listed was a description of my life. I suddenly felt so small. It was horrible. After about ten minutes of lisening to her, I thought "I have to make sure her personal opinions do not influence the way I treat her". I went home that night and thought about the expereince. I tried to figure out why I felt so distraught earlier and i realized that I hate the thought of being judged. I hate the thoguht of someone assuming certain things about me when they could actually take the time to get to know me and appreciate that we have so much in common. Then I remembered that I need to be happy with myself and that is all that really matters. THe minute that thought came into my head, I felt a peace of mind. I thought i had learned that lesson a while ago, but it seems to come back in other ways. I thought that was interesting.