There are so many lies that are whispered to us on a daily basis. Lies about our abilities, lies about our appearance, lies about our performance, lies about our worth. You believe them. I believe them. But of all the lies we are fed, I find nothing more infuriating than this one:
You are ordinary.
It just makes me want to punch a pillow.
I really struggled with my identity and self-worth when I transitioned to being a stay-at-home mom. Not everyone struggles during this transition. Others struggle with identity and worth outside of even having kids. But we all hear the lies, and over time we start to believe them. After months of staying home, I realized I was self-conscious in social settings with other adults.
At times it felt like no one knew how to interact with me outside of the topics of parenthood. I didn’t have a desk job, I wasn’t doing anything terribly exciting on the weekends. When I was asked, “What’s new?” I had no idea how to respond. With Chica’s latest achievement? With the most recent recipe I tried? With the accomplishment that I’d actually cleaned the house that day?
I felt so boring.
So. Completely. Ordinary.
Here’s the thing though, and I want you to hear me. Like, really hear me:
You and I are anything but ordinary.
In fact, I find you completely fascinating.
Even though we’ve most likely never actually met.
Because over time I’ve become increasingly interested in stories. We all have them. We have a past, we have a heritage, we have traditions. We have hobbies and talents and experiences that all come together to make us unique. It’s your differences from me that make you compelling; our likenesses that make you intriguing.
You have a story.
Perhaps blogging has opened my eyes to this revelation: the stories of so many to devour and enjoy. Maybe I just matured enough to actually see the stories, for my heart to be attuned to them. But now I can’t turn it off. Everytime I meet someone new, I see a tome of new stories. A thousand questions pound my brain and I can’t keep them from coming out of my mouth.
You are anything but boring.
Maybe you’ve raised 5 kids. Maybe you’re an only child. Maybe you vacationed at the beach every summer. Maybe you’ve never seen the ocean. Maybe you’ve moved 20 times in your life. Maybe you’ve lived in the same town for as long as you can remember. Maybe you are married to the love of you life. Maybe you are still searching for love. Maybe you can juggle 5 flaming knives or can break an egg without getting shell in the batter.
You are not merely just a mom or a dad or a friend or a woman or a man or a teacher or a butcher or a baker or a candlestick maker.
You are a sum of all your parts, a culmination of many stories, each more enticing than the last.
I’m amazed by your stories.
And you know what?
The more interest you take in others, the more interesting things you find about yourself.
So I want you to say it.
Say it loud:
I am not ordinary.
I am fascinating.
I have a story to tell, a story worth hearing.