I have spent a lot of my life trying not to be what I wanted to be, trying to suppress various parts of myself. I remember in High School thinking that God must have made a mistake when making me, must have gotten some wires crossed, because something just wasn’t right.

I spent a lot of my life trying not to be the bossy little girl I was reprimanded for being as a child, trying not to be the little girl who took things too seriously and personally, who was always lost in thought, but also wasn't ever thoughtful enough about other people. Slowly, I’m realizing my seriousness isn’t something broken in me that needs to be “lightened up” — sure part of growth for me is to branch outside of this natural bent, but there’s nothing wrong with being serious or introspective.

It was not a bad thing for me to learn some patience and learn to curb my bossy (fiery) inner child, but that bossy part of me came from a good place, from a place of being able to envision things easily, make judgement calls quickly and intuitively, and a healthy desire to lead towards an ideal. Did I need to learn how to be less aggressive and demanding? Absolutely! But, did I need to tell myself a story that this part of me was wrong and bad? Did I need to force myself to hold back and shrink and kill off this part of me so much that I have a hard time accessing it now? No.

I spent a lot of my life trying not to be the little girl who dreamed of being an architect, but was convinced she wasn't good at math, who wanted to be a pastor, but was told that role was only for the men, who would rather sit quietly listening to the adults talk about theology than play dolls, and would rather spend all day with her head in a book than talk to others. I tried not to be that little girl because I didn’t really believe that she was OK. She was broken. She wanted to be things she couldn’t be. She preferred to do things others didn’t. She wasn’t quite… right.

And the truth is, I still tell myself this story. It’s the I’m-not-good-enough story. It’s the something’s-wrong-with-me-story. It’s the story that I sink into when I’m feeling like a bad mom, because I don’t like playing with my kids and I’d rather read, or have a deep conversation with an adult, or pretty much anything else. Something must be wrong with me. Why can’t I be like the other moms? I’m not like the other mom’s, so I must have been made wrong… and again I sink into the belief that God must have messed up.

But, God doesn’t mess up.

And we need all types in this world.

At least I hope so.

Recently, as I was scrolling through my IG feed I came across this quote from @scottthepainter,

“You can’t experience Divine Love if you secretly hate who you were created to be.”

Oh… right the heart, right?

Then, soon after, I came across a post from Kelsey Golden of @littlegoldencottage where I found these words

“I used to think I needed to make myself small because who I felt like I was created to be wasn’t acceptable in the social norms… You don’t need to make yourself small to fit the stereotype of what a woman ‘should’ be. Your words are valuable. Your art is valuable. Your personhood is valuable, regardless of your status of wife, mother, daughter, ‘good’ Christian, etcetera, etcetera. Don’t buy into the lies, friends. You are gorgeous in your unique, glorious, creative beauty and you are made in His image.”

Then I ran into a post from @eloranicole that shared these words,

“I am done with the lie that I cannot do what I am called to do.”

Wow. Yep, words I needed to hear.

I want to unlearn the story that I am wrong. I want to unlearn avoiding how I’m wired, or trying to change it to fit some different image. I want to try to remember who I was before the world told me it wasn’t who I should be, before the world told me it wasn’t good enough.

I want to learn to trust that God shaped me as I am, and doesn’t make mistakes.

Grace and peace,
Bethany