I’ve spent too many years pretending to like myself. This strong, confident, take no prisoners exterior shields a self-deprecating master. The strength and confidence isn’t a lie per se, it just doesn’t tell the whole story.
This is me my junior year of high school. My mom recently cleaned out her storage and brought me a gift bag of yearbooks and old pictures that tell more of the narrative. The timing of this gift of sorts couldn’t have been better. In the trenches of writing my book, I can use all the inspiration I can get. Also, the book is based on the life of yours truly and as honest of an account as I can give. It’s tough to tell the true story of your life when you see it under false observation. The more I write, the more I discover how painfully hard on myself I am.
Side note, this is why it is absolutely crucial for you to write. Writing is an extension of thinking so if you want to think clearly and completely, you have to write down your thoughts. You don’t have to write a book or even be a good writer. You just have to take a pen and paper each day and dump some thoughts out of your brain into black and white. Saying you don’t like to write is like saying you don’t like to think. Not wise.
When I opened this yearbook, I happened to open to this page. I had no recollection of this picture and no idea it was in the center spread of the “Supersonic” page. After the instantaneous fit of laughter, I took a deep look into the eyes of this girl. A girl who for the past 30 years I have viewed as someone I once knew. Not the person I look at in the mirror everyday but some distant frenemy I don’t give much thought to in my now busy life. That hairsprayed, free-spirited teen was buried back in a small town in Montana where she belongs. How terrible of me to leave her behind like that.
Memory had constructed a story of me that I was bossy, promiscuous, lost, defiant and better left to rest in the past. It’s funny how we tend to remember the worst in ourselves instead of the best. Apparently I have been doing that for decades which explains why I have mastered that skill. Flipping through my yearbook, I started to read the various messages my classmates had written to me. I was taken aback. All of the good in me was evident to those naive, barely old enough to vote young people. Those people whose only concern was partying and ruling the school in their upcoming senior year could see things in me I lost sight of all these years. The more I read, the more I realized how far removed from myself I have become.
“You’re one hell of a stud!” “I’m glad I got to know you, I know there is hope for some style in Montana.” “You’re pretty funny….for a white chic!” (Not sure what being white has to do with it but I’ll take the compliment) “I know I can tell you anything - you are a real friend.” “There is no doubt I will see your name in spotlights. You are destined to do amazing things in life.”
I was reminded by my boyfriend that I am the best and it would be the last time he would get to put these feelings down in my yearbook. “I won’t forget you!” Signed “Love always” with AC/DC next to his name. I’m certain he has forgotten me but still listens to AC/DC.
A guy named Jason wished me an awesome summer and hoped he’d see me sometime soon. P.S. to give him a call if I got bored, although it was a remote chance, he asked me to humor him. I’d give him a call now but I’m afraid his elderly parents would be the ones to answer that number.
There was a message from a guy named Lloyd, who was brutally murdered on his 45th birthday. A short note from a gal who died of metastatic breast cancer at a young age, leaving small children behind and a short note from my first real love who drown during Ironman in his thirties. We never know where life will take us do we?
It is inevitable as life marches forward and the duties and roles are assigned, we lose sight of who we are. We become someone’s spouse, someone’s parent, someone’s business partner or employee. Our true self gets hidden behind a shell of roles we play. As we layer on the responsibilities, the thick coat makes it hard to see inside. It makes it easy to forget who we really are.
A friend who is going through the heart-wrenching experience of divorce recently shared with me that she cannot fathom how she missed learning and thinking for such a big part of her life. She has so many regrets. I shared with her that I really do understand. Spending the past several years covering up an alcohol addiction and many years prior denying myself the love I deserve. Others loved me, but I did not love myself.
I’m working hard at clearing up false memories and getting to know that girl I left behind all those years ago. That girl who is funny, beautiful, bold, unapologetically honest and destined to do great things. The closer I look at the girl in this picture, the more I see me. I have empathy for her instead of harsh judgement. Her life was hard. Her life was lonely but she was shining brightly and didn’t even realize it.
As I was rowing in my home gym this morning, the song Working my way back to you by The Spinners came on. As I ramped up the tempo to match that of the song, I was filled with excitement. “I’m working my way back to you babe” is what I’m singing to myself! This song isn’t about earning the love of someone else, it’s a song about earning the love of myself. The harder I pulled on that rower, the louder I sang…
I'm workin' my way back to you babe With a burnin' love inside Yeah I'm workin' my way back to you babe And the happiness that died I let it get away Paying every day When you were so in love with me I played around like I was free Thought I could have my cake and eat it too But how I cried over losin' you See me down and out But I ain't about to go livin' my life without you For every day, I made you cry I'm payin' girl, till the day that I die I'll keep workin' my way back to you babe With a burnin' love inside I'm workin' my way back to you babe And the happiness that died See me down and out But I ain't about to go livin' my life without you For every day, I made you cry I'm payin' girl, till the day that I die My road is kinda long I just gotta get back home Whoa, I'm really sorry for acting that way I'm really sorry, oh little girl, for telling you lies for so long
You may lose yourself in this life. You may be tempted to forget who you once were or create stories about you that aren’t true. It’s ok, it happens to all of us.
But, it’s time to work yourself back to you babe.
Maybe I should be working TOWARD me, I don't like who I was, or even who I am now. Not sure how to fix it or where to even start!
I REALLY look forward to your book. It is going to be a fantabulous read. 🕊