“People don’t like me.”
“I’m bad at that.”
To my child,
I hear these defeated words spilling from your lips. Sometimes shouted, sometimes murmured quietly and sometimes swimming silently behind your eyes as you glare out at the world around you.
They come when you try something new and it doesn’t go the way you planned.
They come when you’re sitting by yourself, whispered between gritted teeth through frustrated tears.
They come when you feel left out of the group and you’re standing defiant with your arms wrapped around your stomach – trying to hold yourself in when you feel broken all apart.
My child, if there’s one thing you hear, please hear this. These words, these accusing words, they’re a pack of lies. They sneak into your heart and mind, and they blind you to the truth of who you really are.
If I could give you one gift, it would be for you to part this fog of lies, and to see yourself as I see you.
I would want you to see your strength when the world knocks you down but you get back up and take another step forward.
To see your beauty shine in your delighted smile and contagious laughter.
To see the comfort you give without a thought to those who need it.
To see how you were formed perfectly, with every hair numbered and every cell placed exactly where it belongs.
To see how smart you are – not because of a letter on a report card or a praise from a friend, but because you constantly seek out truth in a world that seeks to disguise it.
To see the core of loyalty you have for those you love.
To see your joy in the little things.
To see your name written indelibly across my heart – someone loved, someone cherished and someone treasured.
Because those words and thoughts and lies that fill you sometimes – those are nothing compared to who you really are.
So take this gift. Break through the lies and see yourself clearly. See yourself as I see you.