What, Me, Optimist?

Tonight I had the chance to talk over the phone with a friend I've not connected with in quite some time.  We were discussing some a few questions she had over a little project I've started.  During the course of our conversation, the issue of self-worth came up, and I again admitted something that few people know about me:

I struggle with feeling defeated in many things in life.  And my sense of self-worth isn't nearly where it should be.

Talking through it with her brought up some possible reasons for it, one being the way I was taught by the churches I attended that people like me are hell-bound, and I could never be a woman because...well, "God doesn't make mistakes." (Never mind the fact that I didn't believe I "could be," but always knew I was a woman.)

Over time I know I've been able to plow through those unintelligible justifications for condemning me and people like me.  Many of you know my struggles with my faith and how I overcame the condemnation with my own soul (and Scripture) searching, and eventually arriving at the conclusion that God loves me, just as I am.

But now I find myself beginning a new thing, and my fears and lack of self-confidence are once again knocking at my door, and all it takes is a shred of the toxic bullshit out there in this blogosphere battlezone to close me up.

During the phone conversation, I was surprised to hear my friend tell me how she always loved to read my blog; that through all the mess that was my life, I somehow always managed to shine a light of resilient optimism into each story and confession.   So for the rest of the evening I thought back to some of my own writings from those troubling times, and I discovered that I always managed to hold on to some thing, one thing, or anything that would give me hope.  I held on, as the song goes, for one more day.  And surprisingly, it worked.

I guess I'm surprised to be seen as an optimist.  My own continued struggles with self-confidence and fear of failure often attempts to repress my timid spirit.  But in looking back at where I've come from, I don't think I would have been able to make it had it not been for finding some reason during the day to be optimistic, and I'm grateful optimism came in many shapes and colors.

Optimism = Hope.

And hope is what I'm trying to impart from my life to those I care about.  Perhaps I'll never stop struggling with those little voices mocking me and calling me a failure.  But I'll prove them wrong in the end.  Just you wait.



Thanks for lifting my spirit today, Tegan.