Feeling Most Like Myself

For the longest time, I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. This issue was partly due to my OCD--I constantly felt dirty, my skin was always overly dry (naturally, yes, but I also took several showers a day and hated the consistency of lotion), and certain clothing material used to irritate my skin. But, another big part of my issue was that I never truly felt like myself. I wasn't sure who I was, so how do you correlate the outside with a misunderstood inside?

The past two and half years I have spent a good portion of my time figuring out who I am. Here's what I have discovered:

I love animals. I will own a teacup pig and a llama someday; just you wait.

My dog is definitely my best friend.

I enjoy writing poetry.

I am a kind person with a bad temper.

I have many defensive mechanisms. I'm still working on overcoming them.

I like tattoos and piercings, and that is okay.

I love learning about languages and other cultures. I will never be the best at picking up a language, but I do my best trying.

I am a social person but don't always want to be around several people.

Some aspects have been easily accepted, and some have been quite hard. I have had to break down walls that I built up, and I have had to accept that I don't have to be what society defines as "cool" or "fun." I can be my own version of great because what is considered "great" and "cool" and "fun" should be determined by the individual. I used to think extroverted people were seen as more fun, so I tried to be like that. I used to think being a "wild child" was considered more fun, so I took on some of those qualities. I used to think always having makeup on made me pretty and never wearing "bummy" clothes made me cool. I acted in so many different ways and did so many things all because I cared what people think. I still care what people think, to an extent; I don't know if that ever fully goes away, but I am trying to put my own opinion of myself before others.

I look at more recent pictures of myself and get so happy. I look at them and think, wow that's really me. The inside finally has recognition of herself--who she is, what she likes and enjoys, and most importantly, a love for herself. I am so comfortable in knowing who I am that my outside seems to resemble what I feel inside. It may sound silly, but it's the small things that make me feel so at home in my body. When I got my nose pierced, I felt like I had completed a part of my journey. It was something I always wanted but never did because I felt like I'd be judged or scolded. When I changed to a ring instead of a stud, it felt like I was looking at a whole new person in the mirror--the person I'd been meaning to see my whole life but could never find. When I cut my hair, I felt similar. I've wanted my hair cut for the past 8 months or so but kept putting it off. I kept telling myself others wouldn't think I'm as pretty, because aren't girls with long hair what society deems the prettiest? After it was cut, I felt happy and at peace with my decision.

For the first time in my life, I am happy to be making decisions for myself. I talk down the negative thoughts that appear, I remind myself that I am loved by God and Jake and my family. I remind myself that my opinion of myself is what matters most. The years I've lost worrying about what others think of me is quite tragic, and I hope those days are left in my past.

It is hard to boldly be yourself. Believe me, I know--I have OCD, I've struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts, I still struggle with self harm. How do I not let all of those negative things define me? How do I not listen to what society thinks of me? Because I know those are just a part of who I am. Making peace with your mental illness (and any sort of battle) is being able to recognize how it led you to where you are and being the person you were meant to be. I love my life, and I love who I am. Not because it, or I, am perfect, but because I see the good qualities over the bad. I have a wonderful fiance, who I marry next month; I have an amazing and silly dog who loves me for me; I have family who support me in my endeavors; I have encouraging friends; I've met so many kind, caring, and unique coworkers and classmates; and I've experienced some unbelievable opportunities.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter so much what size pants I wear, if everyone likes me, or if other people think I'm pretty. It matters what I did--Did I help others? Did I try today? Did I love people the way God loves me?