Accepting your own frailty and making choices from that acceptance is, ironically, a strengthening process.
Learning to live in the reality of who we are, and not in unrealistic expectations that we (meaning me) more often than not, create ourselves, but imagine to exist in the minds of others, causes us immense stress and anxiety.
When we attempt to live up to the version of ourselves that we imagine to be expected; the strong, gifted, beautiful, talented, successful, busy person of great importance we open a door in our heads for misery to enter.
When we fail to live as who we are, in a trade off for who we are not, solely to please others, or to silence the judge in our own heads, we climb onto a treadmill that will just get faster as our legs get ever more tired. We run towards goals we can’t reach, and may not even want to, all in a race for acceptance and yet our tactics are all wrong. When we don’t reach the goal, if we don’t produce, we add another little bit of sadness to our lives and begin to believe that we are unacceptable.
I’m choosing to accept who I am. I am much less smart and original than I think I am. I am definitely much less organised than I imagine and I’m sure I’m a worse friend than the ever-loyal-dream-buddy I am in my head. I am reluctantly accepting my weaknesses are many (as are my strengths). I am understanding my invincibility is much less definite than I suppose. I am embracing my frailty and it is liberating.
I’m reconnecting with the part about my faith that first drew me to God in the first place; that I am me and because of that and in spite of it, that the God of heaven loves me without condition. That my value is found not in my achievements, reputation or persona, but in that simple truth that He loves me as much as He loves you and as much as He loves every single one of us.
It feels like breathing clean, fresh air for the first time.