All I know how to be is me.

Every since I was a little girl, I have hated pretenses.  Maybe it was being raised in a pastor's home, maybe it's just the way I'm wired.  I don't know.  But I have hated...and, yes, hate is a strong word but necessary in this instance....I have hated pretenses!  If I had to act a certain way, dress a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way for you to like me (I don't necessarily mean you, the reader....unless, of course, the shoe fits) then it's just not meant to be.  You just won't like me.  

I've always been different.  I tried so hard to be part of the "in-crowd" at times in my life and did I ever learn that the grass isn't necessarily greener in that crowd.  I think maybe it started when I hit a growth spurt and was taller than most everyone in my class for a while.  I felt awkward and out of place more often than not.  I remember falling into the trap of wearing a certain name brand shoe to be part of the popular crowd.  I remember fixing my hair a certain way (shew, did I ever get that one wrong...YIKES!) but there was always someone cooler, prettier, with nicer clothes, and just overall, more put together than me. Nine times out of ten, if I had to work at you liking me then we were not really compatible anyway.  I ended up in some of those circles that looked so amazing only to be miserable because they were not nearly as fun as I had imagined! I WOULD NOT go back to being a teenager for anything.  That was some miserable times!  Can I hear an Amen?!  

Let's return to the pastor's kid thing for a minute.  I got pretty good at reading people sitting on the pew. I could see through someone who was just putting on a show or if they were really sincere in living for God.  I could spot a fraud a mile away. Some people will say or do anything to please someone else, to fit in, to do whatever it takes to get ahead.  Nope.  I just can't.  It's not in me.  

I remember how my eyes were opened in college to how frivolous people could really be.  I remember one very painful experience that both crushed me and put a resolve in my bones that I would fight against being shallow.  I had asked my mom to send my a box of my winter clothes since cold weather was soon to arrive where I was attending college.  A "friend" followed me eagerly to my room to see what was in the package that had arrived.  This was someone that I had really counted as a close buddy.  We flopped, giggling, on the floor and I quickly ripped into the box excited to show off some of the beautiful clothes that my mom and I had created together.  See, I didn't come from a wealthy family but that had never been an issue with me.  My mom and I would go to the fabric store, find a pattern that was straight out of Vogue and then find the perfect fabric to turn this into a one of kind creation that I always made me feel beautiful and special.  As I began to pull out some of theses magnificent pieces, the smiles on my "friend's" face began to turn to sneers right after the question was asked where they came from and I replied with all the joyful pride in the world, "my mom made them!"  I was truly shocked and devastated by the snide remarks that followed.  Really?!  It's not cool to wear homemade?!  It's not amazing that my mom makes these for me?!  I remember finding some excuse to get her out of my room and then closed the door and sank to the floor in pain. Tears coursed down my cheeks. My heart pounded. How could someone be so cruel and mean?  How could this person make me feel so small and insignificant with words? What a lesson it was for me.  I did wear one of these "homemade" creations to the Christmas banquet. When I walked to the door and met my, then boyfriend, now husband, the look on his face brought sweet redemption.  He didn't care what the label said.  He thought I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen....I know this because he told me of course, many times that evening.  I received so many compliments on that black velvet dress with gold trim that I felt like a princess that evening.  Cinderella in real life!

There have been many times that I have felt the pressure to change who I am to "fit" in but the sweet surprise of growing older is the fact that other's opinions don't matter nearly as much as they used to.  I don't say that callously but with a sense of well being. I really cannot morph into something that is not authentic to who I am.  The good ole' boy system....that's not for me.  The, you just have to be from here, to fit in thing....nope, that's not for me.  The, you have to dress a certain way, wear your hair a certain way, be kin to "somebody", drive a certain car, hold your hand a certain way, carry a certain name brand purse, wear a certain style to matter thing....no thank you.  I'll pass. 

Several factor's have contributed to me finding my authentic self.  One is simply that it's just not in my DNA.  My parent's drilled into my head that I was special and I think, eventually, it took...but then again, parents are supposed to say that, right? (That's my pessimistic side showing. hehe)  Another huge factor is my husband.  One of the things that attracted me to him is that he is the same way.  In fact, it's virtually impossible for him to be pretentious! If you spend anytime with him, you will find this to be evident. At times, I think it has "hurt" both of us even in, gasp, the church world. He truly has been my biggest confidence booster.  He thinks I can do anything and his love has truly been the wind beneath my wings. 

The greatest factor that has grounded me is the truth that I find in God.  He is the One that helps me find my worth.  If I am pleasing Him....if I am obeying His Word....if I am living my life to worship Him and you don't like me, well, I just cannot help that.  I have said, teasingly, at times....I know I'm cool and if you don't like me, oh, well, it's your loss! There are enough fraud's in the world.  Let's be authentic. The good, the bad, the pretty and the ugly...all I know how to be is me.