I don’t know about you, but I finally got tired of being unhappy being me. Sure, I looked okay on the outside, but inside I was distraught. I continually doubted myself, questioned my decisions, and felt very alone, even though I surrounded myself with people.
I would read inspirational and motivational books and feel great, for about forty-eight hours. I secretly believed something must be wrong with me. I never let on that I felt this way; instead, I would pretend I was fine, put on a smile, and keep going.
What’s Wrong With Me?
Most people want to figure out what’s “wrong” with them. They want someone to fix them or save them.
In reality, we don’t need to be saved. There’s nothing wrong with you, or me, or anyone (even the folks who are really irritating). All of us are just scared. Scared of being rejected, of looking stupid, of being called selfish.
I finally figured it out. Fear was the culprit and I, unknowingly, had let fear run my life. My fears didn’t start when I became an orphan at fourteen, though that didn’t help. My fears, just like yours, started before I had any conscious memories. Our fears develop because we want to be safe, protected, and comfortable. I know now that our addiction to comfort, safety, and protection will always lead us to unhappiness.
When I was fourteen, my father killed my mother in our driveway. Moments later, he kneeled in front of me and shot himself. I was the only witness.
Most people assume that because I experienced this tragedy, my life is somehow different. It isn’t. We’re all the same inside. We all want to be loved, and happy, and free. I wanted that too, but I just didn’t think I deserved it. I mean, come on. How could I be happy when I was the only witness to the murder of my mother and the suicide of my father?
I believed that I had to be miserable to be a good daughter, and I sacrificed my happiness to prove I missed my parents. I was afraid to be thought of as a loser, so I tried to ignore my past and pretend nothing had happened. But it had.
Not stopping my father from killing my mother on Father’s Day pretty much cemented my loser status; at least that’s what I thought. I was afraid others would see how disgusting I was and then leave me, so I always left first. Fear convinced me that I had to hide my true self, because I was absolutely sure that I wasn’t worth much.
Turns out that booze can actually make you do some embarrassing things, so I gave that up at twenty-eight. I finally realized that the only option I had left was to figure out how to be happy as me. But that last one was a doozy.
It wasn’t an easy decision or one I made quickly. I’m sure you’ve wanted to change aspects of your life for years, but you’ve been too busy, or the timing didn’t seem right, or you didn’t think you were worth it. I know, I was there. But those are all lies that your fears whisper in your ear to keep you safe. Don’t listen.
I could go on, but I think you get the idea. I figured out the fear thing, and now I’m not only happy to be alive, I am actually happy to be myself. I want the same for you. I want you to be thrilled to be you, thrilled to wake up in your life every day. If you want that too, let’s get started.