Did you ever look in the mirror so long that your face doesn’t make sense any more? It just becomes all these shapes. Just shapes. Not good or bad. ~Noelle; The Truth About Cats and Dogs
Some days, I don’t know that I recognize myself. CS Lewis once said something about how it feels like nothing ever changes but when we stop and consider things, we realize how vastly different they are. I don’t know what the exact quote is, but you can google it if you want.
See that? The old me wouldn’t have thrown a paraphrase out there and left you to figure out if I’m BSing you or not.
The me from two weeks ago would not think that I’d have gone on and blogged about a weird date on Friday. The me from three months ago would not have bought jeans with tiny, classy sparkles on the butt pockets (nor would she have thought that sparkles on butt pockets could ever be classy, but Jones New York proved me wrong on that one). The me from four years ago would never have thought that I would lose 70 pounds without amputating a leg or getting tape worm.
The old me didn’t wear bright red lip stain, or speak up for myself, or successfully keep a houseplant alive.
I am occasionally sure that I like the me I am today. The old me didn’t think much of herself.
But sometimes, the new me and the old me collide. The new me does something brave and then the old me gets instantly anxious about it. The new me does a really good job at being consistent with the gym and eating better and then the old me takes the one “bad” day and tries to undo all my progress. Or I get excited about buying a cute dress and then old me freaks out about the fact that it touches my skin. I make new friends and open up to people while old me is certain that they’re fake and just waiting for a chance to betray me.
It makes me wonder which me is me. Is the new me a facade? Am I capable of all the changes I want to make? Is the new me any better, or am I just fooling myself? All these months of introspection and evaluation and all I can say is that right now, I am. And I don’t have to make sense of all of me tonight. I suppose that that’s an act of being kind towards myself.
Posted on October 6, 2014, in Anxiety, Growing Up, On Being a Woman and tagged Anxiety, Body Image, Bravery, Change, Confidence, Growing Up, growth, Identity, Women's Issues. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.