I've been spending a lot of my days at home, so to fill my time I've been playing the piano and writing a ton. I've been itching to write a new blog post, but I've been unsure of what to write about. I've played the piano for hours but left my laptop untouched because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, and to be quite honest there hasn't been a lot going on in my life to even write about... But one day I decided to dedicate a lot of my day to writing. 9 times out of 10 I'll listen to music while I write. I have a Spotify playlist dedicated to this work and then every so often I'll find some kind of "ambient' or "chill" playlist on Spotify to be inspired by and continue adding to my Writing playlist (this is seriously one of my favorite pastimes of mine). So, that's all one big introduction to the fact that the other night I was listening to some quiet music at around 5:30pm, sitting at the kitchen island feeling kind of inspired to write some "letters." In a very "To All the Boys I've Loved Before"-esque way, I created a folder in my Google Drive titled, "The Unsent Letters." (And for those of you unsure of what the heck I'm referring to, click here to find more information on the book-turned-movie.) But instead of a folder full of love letters, it became a place for me to write to the people who've hurt me, to the ones who've saved me, and all of those in-between. There was one in particular that I was writing when it suddenly dawned on me what I needed to write for Adjusting Focus.
In the last year and a half I've faced a lot of rejection. People called me names and told me I was wrong and going to a very, very, warm place down under. I've been yelled at and stared at and avoided. A lot. Doors have been slammed in my face. So at this point in my life I felt like when I came home I really wouldn't care what other people had to say and I would no longer seek after the approval of other people. But, as stated in my last post, being home is hard. I feel like a lot of me has reverted back to the person I was before I embarked on this 18 month journey. The social anxiety settled back in and wrapped around me like a warm blanket, my depression whispered that everything I loved was useless and purposeless and I should just give up on all of my hopes and dreams for life because the world is falling apart. The need to feel like the world thinks I'm important, the desire to feel noticed, and the aching to be a social butterfly who's white and pretty and skinny all came back to grab me with their greedy hands. All of a sudden I felt so inadequate for the next steps in life and emotions just hit me like a massive wave (and I have a fear of the ocean).
As I wrote these letters I remembered some experiences I had growing up, desperately trying to fit in. Like when I was younger I was friends with people who made me feel like I constantly needed their approval. I never felt as good as them. They were the epitome of a beautifully laid out, aesthetically pleasing Pinterest board. Their life was one perfect Instagram picture after another. I tried to wear and be what I thought these people would like. I wanted a place to belong. I wanted people to think I was important. I wanted others to notice me like they noticed them.
As I wrote these letters I remembered some experiences I had growing up, desperately trying to fit in. Like when I was younger I was friends with people who made me feel like I constantly needed their approval. I never felt as good as them. They were the epitome of a beautifully laid out, aesthetically pleasing Pinterest board. Their life was one perfect Instagram picture after another. I tried to wear and be what I thought these people would like. I wanted a place to belong. I wanted people to think I was important. I wanted others to notice me like they noticed them.
In my late middle school years I struggled a lot with my self-image. I denied myself food and become obsessive about the way I looked. I had to see a certain number on the scale that I checked on every morning and night. I thrived when others positively commented on my appearance. Anytime I went out in public or to school I had to make sure I looked good so that others would see me and notice me. I put an intense amount of pressure on myself to make my physical appearance look good in middle school because I desperately wanted friends and a place in school.
These are just a couple examples from my life, but a lot of it has been spent wishing I could be something other people thought would be "cool," for lack of a better word. It was all about how many likes I got. I've spent too much time seeing skinny white girls in person and on social media and thinking to myself, "I can never be that", "Who's going to like an average brown-skinned girl in this white world of mine?" Or, I've seen and been in places where there's someone who's so outgoing and everyone loves them and thinks they're funny, someone who has a lot of friends and I stand off to the side wishing so desperately that someone would notice me. I've left so many parties early and I've spent a lot of them sitting on a couch with my phone. The Bathroom and I are good pals because when I feel like my social anxiety and general awkwardness is overwhelming I go there to hide and find quiet. I've given myself so many pep talks in the mirror that it's embarrassing. The fact I always used the most data in our family plan is probably because The Bathroom and I scroll through Facebook and Instagram too much in order to escape people and feed the anxiety of never feeling good enough for the crowd behind the door.
In the last couple of weeks especially, I've been coming to find myself a little more. I'm accepting myself as a whole really because I have nothing to be ashamed of. Yeah, I'm not a white girl but my black hair is nothing to hide. My brown skin doesn't make me any less. I'm trying to be healthy but my body is my own. I don't have to be the "life of the party" to be liked. I can post whatever I really want and the likes don't matter. I don't have to live my life for others and it's exhausting to do so. And the reality of it all is that I also already have a good life.
Be happy with who you are and with the things you have. Continue to strive to be better, but don't always do it for other people. Each of us has something to offer and God can make so much more of us than we can on our own. I'm trying to remember that now, to love the person Heavenly Father made and to work towards that person HE wants me to become.
To end, here's one of my favorite quotes:
As always, thanks for reading!
---Maggie
Hi Sister Linzey, it is hard to call you Maggie. Thank you for the opportunity to read your blog. Although I'm a lot older than you, I can relate how you felt. Giving up what my whole life revolved around was difficult and painful, because of the people that abandoned me, 15 months ago. I too was told I would be going to a very warm place. My response was always that it was good I like the heat. However, I soon found out that other things replaced and agumented that which I thought I had lost with things of eternal value and lasting friendships. How you feel about yourself as a person, a friend to others, a daughter, and more importantly, a child of God, is more important than what the world tries to say we should be. That short period of time that you and Sister Smith were in life led me an eternal path I would not give up for anything I previously thought was important. This Life is so awesome but what is forthcoming is why we are here. Keep on blogging and sharing your thoughts and aspirations.
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