Sometimes change takes eons to occur.
Take evolution for example (although I don’t believe in it).
Sometimes, change is much quicker.
Like my hair colour.
It just happens.
I started blogging just over a year ago; a stay at home mum of four struggling with PND and never ending housework.
I was living under a cloud of…. Well it’s hard to say to be honest. Guilt maybe? Severe insecurity? The comfort that comes with convincing yourself your life is enough in order to hide the fact that you feel completely insignificant?
Maybe all three and more.
Either way, I was a different person then.
Half a person even.
This year, things are changing. If you’re an avid reader, you no doubt would have started to notice a theme here. Less ‘woe is me, what’s the point’ posts, and more ‘the world is my oyster and I’m gonna suck that booger all the way in’ posts.
I’m embracing fearlessness.
I’ve had an epipany.
I’m leaving the past behind and stepping out of the cave.
When I attended last weeks Digital Parents Conference, there were no nerves. I wasn’t scared of meeting anyone; I wasn’t scared of anything. I had a few moments of feeling completely overawed by the sheer influx of information and social possibility, and one moment where I thought ‘how on earth can I strike up a nonchalant conversation with Mrs Woog?’ (All I did was say ‘Hi, I’m Jess. From Diary of a SAHM,’ and the gorgeous woman not only recognized me but gave me a giant bear hug. I was much less cool when it came to Eden Land, and instead told her she was my bloggy crush and I loved her. But I digress.)
In that room, in that space, I was in my element. And not because I was surrounded by other techno geeks. Not because I am the biggest blogger ever; on the contrary I’m small fry compared to most.
But because I was there as me.
Not a mum.
Not a wife.
Beautiful, wonderful, zany, larger than life Jess.
I could talk to people without trepidation. I could dance completely carefree and sober (I had had a couple of drinks but wasn’t even close to drunk.) I could sing bad karaoke like it was the finals of Australian Idol. I could read a post to the entire assembly and not only own my words, but own the stage.
I was free.
For years as a child, growing up in church, I heard a bible verse quoted over and over and over again.
I praise you because you made me in an amazing and wonderful way. What you have done is wonderful. I know this very well. (Psalm 139:13, 14 NCV)
As a person who struggles with body image, this is hard to accept, but more so because everywhere I look, I see people whose bodies are not amazing. Who have disabilities and illnesses and minds that are broken. And I can’t understand why God can make them less than perfect.
And then I realised, it’s not the bodies He is talking about. All that is set in motion. A woman’s body knows how to produce; it knows what to do to bring forth life. It doesn’t need help there.
But the heart of a person, their spirit their soul, that is what bears the fingerprints of God. It is made carefully and perfectly, and with reverential fear; the maker never wanted to stuff things up.
Who I am, what makes me me, is beautifully, and wonderfully made. My personality, my quirks, my gifts, my passions, all those things were carefully planned by my creator.
This makes me awesome.
But it also means, that it makes everyone awesome.
In a year I have come from seeing myself as fairly insignificant and worthless, to understanding that not only do I have great worth and significance, but that part of my significance is to see that what makes me incredible is also in others too.
There is beauty in all of us. Not one of us is better than another and my new found confidence is evidence of that. It is not arrogance that says ‘I am clearly more than you,’ but rather a radiant freedom that says, ‘I have incredible worth, and I believe you do as well.’
There is a new quote at the bottom of this page, which is going to stay there. It’s something I have heard and read in so many places in the last few months, and it resonates with me so very deeply.
– Marianne Wilson
My blog is sparkly.
And I one hundred percent believe that you can be sparkly too.
So go ahead.