Scars

Today I went to the eye doctor and found out that I have a scar on the back of my eye. The doctor said that it has probably been there since I was born. Here's a picture. Hope it doesn't gross anyone out, but I think it is kind of cool. There's nothing bad about it thankfully!

So of course I needed to think about scars of my life, and how many of them came from early in my life, but are still present today. The scar in my eye doesn't hurt, but the scars from my life do. I have been watching Biggest Loser now (and boy do I want Tracy to get her comeuppance) and something that Jillian said to Dina this week struck me. Dina was trying to jump on a platform. It didn't look that hard, but Dina had a block, so for whatever reason (it was clearly mental) she couldn't do it. Jillian got on her case and was talking about writing the next chapter in her story and asking her if that is how she wanted her story to be - one of giving up. Grey's Anatomy earlier this season also mentioned that idea of writing the life story. What story do I want to write for my life?

It dawned on me today that I really don't know who I am. (outside of being a child of God) Because of the insecurities left by my scars I am always scrambling to figure out what it is people want from me and trying to make myself into that person. Probably the biggest stresser in our marriage is me trying to figure out what K wants me to be. Does he want me to be a size 6, does he want me to stay home with the kids, does he want me to keep a spotless house... Because of being the way I am, I have a lot of interests. I learned a lot so people would stay interested in me. The problem comes in that a lot of the things I like in life aren't the same as the things of the friends I've made. I'm not saying that we should only have friends like ourselves, but sometimes there are glaring differences... I love Broadway shows, and fashion, and spas and hollywood/movies. Most of my friends don't like any of these. I actually like going to the gym - my friends are all skinny so they don't exercise. It makes me even more insecure because since I'm not like any of them in what I'm truly interested in, I think I must not be as good.

I think about this more since I've made a few new friends since I've moved to Illinois. As I'm trying to become who I really am, these friends have helped me feel more worthy. I called a friend the other day because I needed to know she cared about me. I was feeling hated by the world and knew I would dwell in it. She knows my story and she was ready, willing and able to chat with me, and just tell me she loved me. She is not afraid of flaws. She shares hers with me.

I have made another friend who does have similar interests. We've gone to dinner and movies and are heading together to a conference 4 hours away of a favorite author/speaker. She suggests things to do as well as just agrees to go with. She was the one who suggested spin a while back.

There's room for both friends in my life. But my newer friends are the ones who are getting to know more of the real me, as I figure it out myself. This journey of weight loss it helping me with that too. There's hope for me yet. There's a chance that I can write a better next chapter in my life. I'm doing the writing now. I'm in control.

(Tomorrow starts the program...I can do it)