I know, Holy Prozac, right? Insecurity. It has been Satan's weapon against me for nearly my entire life. The first time I remember feeling insecure was in third grade. I was trying on a pair of Levi's jeans at an outlet store when I looked up to see a poster, hanging on the dressing room wall. It was a black and white photo of a young girl walking on the beach wearing tight rolled Levi's and a white shirt that was tied up enough to show her midriff. I immediately compared my waist to hers and cringed. I was eight years old. A few years later, it happened again while swimsuit shopping. Eventually, my insecurity would manifest itself into a full-blown eating disorder that I battled for two years. By college, I needed anti-anxiety medicine just to cope. Going to parties and ballgames, where large groups of people would see me, conjured up deep and nearly debilitating feelings of insecurity.
Through the years, age and wisdom have helped me to overcome many of my issues with anxiety and self-esteem, but there are still times when Satan will use his weapon to break me. And often, he does it at an expense to my husband as well.
While I struggle with feeling like I don't "fit in" anywhere, my husband moves seamlessly among multiple groups of friends. It doesn't matter if it involves electrical engineering, golf, duck hunting, softball, or construction, he has the confidence to step into any group, learn something, and create deep relationships with those he encounters. I often find myself dangerously jealous of him. Sometimes to the point of tears. Sometimes to the point of real depression. Often to the point of me blasting hurtful words at him in an effort to make him hurt right along with me.
It's not fair! He NEVER has to worry if he's attractive enough, thin enough, smart enough, spiritual enough, funny enough, or wealthy enough to be included. He NEVER has to worry if the house is clean enough, the classroom treats are Pinterest enough, or if he appears to "have it all together" enough in order to be accepted. Men never consider any of these things as prerequisites for inclusion and friendship. And you know what else...neither do women. At least not the women I want in my life.
Could it be that we have manifested this nonsense in our own minds, robbing us of the opportunity to enjoy friendships with some great women? Has Satan pulled the wool over our eyes with these made up lies? These lies that whisper in our ear, telling us we don't know the Bible well enough, we're not pretty enough, our clothes aren't cute enough, we're not athletic enough to be accepted among certain groups. It's ridiculous, and self-serving, and draining, and we keep doing it.
Sweet friend, how I wish I had some nugget of wisdom, some life-altering advice I could give to help those of us battling these feelings of insecurity, and loneliness, and self-doubt. One thing I do know is that being jealous of my husband isn't the answer. It really isn't his fault that I still haven't figured out that nobody really cares what size jeans I wear. And that nobody really cares if my kids' beds are made or not (FYI, they're not...like ever). Since the beginning of time, Satan has used his tactics to make women question their worth. The question now is, when will we stop believing him?