Do you know the definition of phony?
Not genuine. Fraudulent.
That’s where I’m standing right now, front and center in the spotlight. Trust God, have healthy habits, healthy relationships, recognize, grow, change, embrace. I speak it to you in every blog. But, it all feels so fraudulent. Good intent, but bullsh!t. (Sorry about that foul word, but, if honesty is what we’re working towards here, sometimes I need a little soap wash in the mouth.)
You know, I have friends and family members come to me quite often for advice. After we’re done, they always tell me I’m good at it. I’m so educated. I have it together. I get it. “It must be nice,” they wish they could see it that way. I keep on the sunny side, even in the darkness. I had a conversation tonight, and when it was over, they said, “Dang, you should be a counselor, maybe think about that for a summer job.” And when they left, I thought, “God, I feel like a phony.”
Don’t get me wrong, all of my advice does come from a place of knowledge based upon studies of scripture, self-help books and podcasts, motivational music, and general skills gained from living life, and the “been there, lived through that” scenarios. And, in all honesty, helping other people is a way of helping myself. In saying it that way, it sounds kind of selfish, but, I do it with a good heart, because, I want us all to be happy. I want a happy world, with fewer of us living in fear, or with anxieties that allow the devil to overtake our spirits. It’s almost like a “dear diary” to myself, but, I want you to find it under my pillow and take a peek, because maybe you aren’t brave enough to talk yourself through it yet.
However, what has me catching these feels is the realization that I’m not currently listening to any of it. For instance, in my last blog I talked about the importance of finding comfort in silence, yet, I’m living so loud. I’m scared of being quiet and being forgotten. I constantly say “quit living with the fear of being rejected,” yet that is my biggest fear. I preach moving on and change, but I am so stuck. I know it’s a process, but, at what point do I stop and ask myself, “Okay, am I making progress in the process, or am I now just being disobedient to God?”
That’s a tough one to swallow. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve confused myself with the “voices” I’m allowing to speak lately. I’ve created a scenario in my head in which I’ve all but convinced myself that the reason why I am stuck here is because God is telling me to keep pushing it, because it’s worth fighting for. It’s caused such an internal struggle that somewhere in the midst of it, I’ve allowed an attack on my spirit, and I don’t know who or what is pulling me every which way.
Have ya’ll heard of the whole FOMO thing? I guess I’m old, and only recently was familiarized with this term. “FOMO” is the fear of missing out. I’ve found myself there a lot too. What if the choices I’ve made have led me down a road of missed opportunity. Missed connections. Missed moments. What if my life isn’t going to be what it was supposed to because of that choice. It’s exhausting. Fear is a liar they say, they sing, I preach.
Fear is the devil, yet, here I am sharing a table for 3…me, fear, and Satan. It sounds so harsh, but, “raise a glass” they say, lets wallow.
I was conversing with a gal pal today and I said, “It’s all unnecessary anyway, I don’t know what my deal is.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t invalidate your feelings. They are true and honest. It may be irrational, but it’s what you’ve got. All you need to do is find an outlet for your feelings. You’re going to have them regardless, you just need to figure out what to do with them.”
That spoke to me.
I do feel like a phony. But, I also feel like a girl that’s really trying. Some days more, some days less. Some days I succeed, and some days I just make it through crawling. But, I think it’s okay to struggle.
I want us all to be happy, but, sometimes it takes being sad…or lonely…or confused to get there. We all need outlets. We all need each other.
All I ever want to be is honest, and today, this is all I’ve got.