Looking at me

I would say, "look at me now" but I don't really want you to look at me.

I am not yet strong enough to stand there steadfast declaring my worth.

Because when you look at me, I wither.

I try to shrink and diminish before you bring me down.

But if I stand here and say, "look at me, world!", I have confidence.

Because what the world sees is really me.

I don't know what you see.  But it's not really me.

The world says, "well done!"  and "we wish you well".

You don't say anything at all and that hurts.

The world says:  "you will be great at that"  and again you say nothing.

I thank God for the people who care, and who love me.

I thank God that I'm learning to accept their love and declare myself worthy.

It is hard to look back and see a black hole.

It is hard to look in the face of my daughter and see myself and wonder how anyone could not have loved me.  She is so beautiful.  I was too, but nobody ever told me so.

And it's not just about the way she looks.  It's how she concentrates, it's how she cares, it's how she shows her emotions and loves with such purity and strength.  I know I was like that too.

She has her own ways to shine too, that are different from mine, but I don't resent that - I love that - her mix of gifts, given from God.  To be celebrated, not negated.

So here I stand.  On the brink of something new.  And I try to believe.

Believe that I can do it.  Believe that it's OK to start something new. To be a beginner.

Believe that asking for help is a sign of strength.  That feedback is not to be feared.  And life is for living out loud and not hiding in case somebody doesn't like me.