Insecurity has been a part of my life as far back as my earliest memories. Not the, feeling uncertain and shy kind of insecurity that likely first comes to mind. More like the sad, painful, agonizing, overwhelming, all-consuming kind of insecurity. You see, I can’t exactly pinpoint what caused this deep lack of self-worth (unfortunate genetics, perhaps), but what I can tell you is it has caused a lifelong feeling of being the puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.
RELATED: Dear Daughter, Do Not Be Perfect
I’ll never forget my first memory of insecurity. I was five years of age when I was at a bookstore with my mother. We were at the register ready to pay for our things when a toy from behind the counter caught my eye. I remember my mother saying to me, “If you want it, you have to ask the nice lady for it.” I panicked. This would mean looking at her and speaking (insert complete panic). Nope. No way. I couldn’t possibly do either of those things. I couldn’t . . . and I didn’t. The thought of it was crippling.
At five years of age, I was experiencing my first of many moments of uncertainty and insecurity.
That moment wasn’t big in the sense of it being a traumatic experience within itself, but it will always resonate with me as the first memory of my lifelong battle with insecurity. I internalized my insecurity and attributed my behavior to those around me as being shy when deep down I knew it was because I thought so lowly of myself I couldn’t do the normal parts of life such as simply looking people in the eye and speaking. I remember wondering what kind of mother I would be one day. If I can’t even do basic life tasks without feeling achingly uncomfortable, how am I going to teach my children to be confident and comfortable in their own skin?
The answer is simple.
He meets me where I am, pulls me out of the trenches, and calls me His. No matter how little I value myself, I’m valuable in His eyes. No matter how insecure I feel, He is my security. No matter how much fear comes over me, He covers me in perfect peace.
RELATED: Some of the Best Moms Are the Broken Ones
I am still that same 5-year-old girl who struggles with insecurity, but now I’m navigating my role as a mom of two, the most beautifully terrifying and vulnerable role I’ve ever had, in addition to this deeply rooted weakness.
He gives me the confidence to be my children’s advocate. To be their voice when they can’t speak. Constantly placing me in situations that require me to step out of my comfort zone and push limits I never knew possible and none of which I could do without His mercies and faithfulness throughout this journey of motherhood.
I am surrendering my life and insecurity to Him and trusting He will be my rock.
I know there will come a day when my severe insecurities that I’ve become accustomed to hiding from the world will slip through the cracks and the raw version of myself will be exposed to my children. I also know they will face insecurities of their own with the potential of having the same lifelong struggles as myself.
But I know, through Christ, I will be able to feed their minds and souls with the proper tools to guide them in the direction of always finding a way to make their puzzle piece fit even when it feels like it doesn’t quite belong.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page