You've Come a Long Way Baby

I came across something that I wrote two years ago, and I thought, "Wow! You have come a long way, baby!" It pained me to read what I wrote. I could feel the pain of the author in the written word. I could feel all of the emotion jump off of the page. As I was reading, I felt so bad for that person. It was raw emotion. It was like an open wound. It was me.

I haven't always kept a journal. I believe that perfectionists have a hard time journaling because they spend their entire time erasing what they have written because it can never be perfect enough. On few occasions I would write without editing...this was one such occasion. What pained me the most was how I really felt about myself. How I felt like a loser. How I could never measure up. How I could never be perfect enough. It pains me to think this was really the life that I lived for so long. I believed every word on that page. I believed that I was unworthy. I believed that I was unlovable. I believed that I was trapped. Here is a reflective poem of going back to read that journal entry and how my life has changed now:


My Belief

I used to believe that I was ugly. Sometimes I still do.
I used to believe that I was going crazy. Sometimes I am still reminded that it might be true.
I used to believe that I was nothing. Sometimes there is a small voice that says it is so.
I used to believe that I was trapped. Sometimes I can't forget that feeling.
I used to believe that I was sick. Sometimes I feel that way again.
I used to believe that I was a failure. Sometimes I still fail.
But that was then, and this is now.
"Don't believe everything you think."

I now believe that there is a beautiful person looking at me in the mirror.
I now believe that we are all a little crazy. That is what makes life interesting.
I now believe that I am something . Nothing cannot exist where there is something.
I now believe that I can open the door. Being trapped is a figment of my own imagination.
I now believe that being authentic is not a sickness, but rather a beautiful thing.
I now believe that I am a success. Failure is not trying at all.
God then spoke to me,
"If I am perfect, and I made you in a perfect image of me, how then, can you say that you are anything less than what I intended for you to be?"
I choose to believe Him.