My life is full of stories. Hilarious ones, embarrassing ones, traumatic ones, terrifying ones, enlightening ones–I’m pretty sure I have a story to share as an example of nearly every adjective the dictionary has to offer. And at 26 years old, I’m sure I have many, many more stories ahead of me.
Is there any single story or experience that seems to define why you’ve become the person you are? For most of my life, I can trace nearly every one of my actions and reactions back to a single series of events which snowballed into a lifetime of struggles and challenges.
For example, while on vacation recently, I was trying to be helpful and fold some clothes for my sister-in-law. I wasn’t sure how she liked her shirts folded, but before I could find her to ask, she caught me in my kind deed and
asked me to stop so that she could fold it herself, since everyone likes their clothes folded differently.
This simple interaction led me to feel worthless, in-the-way, and inferior. Why? She wasn’t trying to make me feel that way. She would never try and hurt my feelings, because she is one of the most loving and generous people I know. So why did I take away such painful feelings from an innocent and simple request?
I left the room where the pile of laundry lay and went downstairs to sit by myself for a few minutes to analyze what was going on inside of me.
Her tone was matter-of-factly. It wasn’t condescending, even though that’s what my low self-esteem heard. She pulled all of the laundry in front of her and away from me, so that it would be easier for her to fold, not to exclude me. She knows I wanted to be nice and helpful. I even told her that.
So why the ill feelings?
My past contains a few traumatic experiences that have conditioned me to react poorly to many ordinary things, not to mention all of the difficult and frustrating moments that make up each day. I can trace everything back to those specific moments and how they have caused me to feel and think.
But a few years ago I learned one small and simple truth which has changed my understanding and perception of myself and my experiences:
What I feel is always valid, but it is not always accurate.
Think about that for a moment. Your feelings matter. You are a priceless and valuable person. There is a reason you think and feel the things that you do. It’s important to pause and identify those feelings, whether happiness, frustration, anger, envy, peace, or sadness. But after recognizing those valid emotions and why you feel them, it’s equally important to figure out if the reason you feel those things is accurate. If your best friend in the entire world says, “That shirt you’re wearing looks really awful on you,” wouldn’t you take it differently than if your snooty and condescending next door neighbor said it to you? It’s crucial to figure out the purpose behind the words and experiences that make you feel the way you do, and then recognize whether or not those are true.
Back to this ordinary experience. I sat quietly on the couch downstairs afterward and recognized that I felt inferior and worthless. Once I understood what I was feeling, I then looked at what my sister-in-law was trying to do. She didn’t intend to make me feel that way. She was just trying to make her life slightly easier for the day. So my feelings didn’t add up to the event that created them. After clearly seeing this, I know that what I’m feeling is simply due to my post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and accompanying low self esteem, not because I am worthless or inferior–neither you nor I are worthless or inferior.
My feelings are always valid–there is a reason I feel the way I do. But those feelings are not always accurate. I am not worthless, and the event that made me feel worthless was not meant to do so. Once I recognize that, I can take a deep breath, smile, and continue on without having my self-esteem plummet or having an emotional melt down.
It may sound like a silly interaction where I could have overreacted (and perhaps to some extend I did), but it’s taken me a few years and intense therapy to get to where I am now. And I am by no means perfect at this.
Sometimes I can’t see things so clearly. Sometimes I forget that my feelings may not be accurate. Sometimes I still believe that I am worthless. But no matter what, I’m always learning about myself and trying to become the kind of person I’ve always wished to be. As long as I can look back and learn something from these stories, big or small, I know that I’m still the one defining myself, deciding who I am, and how I react to different situations. PTSD and the events that led to that diagnosis do not determine the kind of person that I am. The same is true for you, regardless of whatever skeletons are in your closet or what past stories you have had. You are the one who decides what your future holds and what kind of personality traits you want to exemplify.
I have hope for myself. No matter what experiences have negatively affected me, and no matter what stories have made me who I am, I can continue becoming who I want to be: a happy daughter, a funny sister, a loving wife, a patient mother, a successful entrepreneur, a creative soul, an excellent baker, an innovative artist, a trustworthy friend, and–most of all–a woman who is confident in herself.
Who do you dream of becoming? How do you want change? Do you know that you can do it? There is always hope and a way to become who you want to be.
If you need help, counseling, or therapy to begin that change, I encourage you to find it. It’s definitely worth it.