On Authenticity

I.

“What would people think?!”

My mother’s mantra.

“What would people think?!”

Her north star.

“What would people think?!”

The compass she gave me.

The compass I followed.

The compass I (sometimes struggle to) reject.

II.

I was never good enough. Too fat, too female, too emotional, too outspoken, too hippie-ish, too asocial, too inconvenient, too demanding, too pretty, too ugly, too outspoken, too opinionated, too ängleshe, too smart, too eating-disorder-y, too independent…

too me.

III.

They shunned me.

I couldn’t take it anymore. 

Something had to give.

So I told him to move out.

And they shunned me.

That is what people think.

But a funny thing happened: I demanded what I needed,

And the moods and suicidal thoughts and desperation and pressure

stopped.

I was stable. I was sane. I was decisive.

I was healing.

IV.

Authenticity. It’s hard for me to write about this. Not because I’m not authentic. But because

I don’t think about it.

Listen, I’ve struggled. I worked my ass off to fit the mould, to be the person everyone wanted me to be, to direct my steps in the direction of the compass my mother gave me.

I knew what people would think.

And then, one day, I didn’t care anymore.

Because caring what people thought of me nearly destroyed me.

Ok, I shouldn’t say “I didn’t care anymore,” like it was this great poetic epiphany and I now no longer ever care. Because I do. 

And then I remember this verse:

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”

‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭2:10‬

Do you see that??? We are God’s masterpiece. I’m God’s masterpiece. You are God’s masterpiece.

I was told once that some of the Old Masters’ paintings are still not quite dry. They’re freaking masterpieces, but there was too much oil in the paint, so they haven’t fully dried. They’re still becoming the masterpiece they have always been perceived to be.

The Sphinx in Egypt is broken. It’s a marvel, and it’s broken. And people still flock to Giza to see it, because it’s a masterpiece of ancient design. And no one thinks it’s a piece of crap because its nose fell off. Nope. It’s a masterpiece.

And it’s broken.

Like me.

Like you.

Like all of us.

V.

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

The other verse that heals me.

Because it makes me stop. And when I do,

And when I know that God is God,

I find my North Star.

The imago dei that is in me, is where I need to go. It’s where I need to direct my steps. To God. To the centre of my soul. To the centre of my self.

To Emmanuel. To God with me.

So, let them shun me. Let them think what they’re gonna think. That’s not my problem.

Because I’m not following the crooked compass I was handed in my childhood. Not anymore.

I’m following the Bright Morning Star, that never moves, that never leads me off course, that never leaves me.

And yeah, it’s the road less travelled by, but I’m taking it.

And it has made all the difference.