A Confident Illusion

I couldn't fight it anymore. The river of emotions that I'd been holding back for weeks was ready to burst like a dam at flood stage. My roommate listened as every shortcoming, fault, and uncertainty that was rooted deep inside poured from my heart. With each confession, I began to see a picture of myself as I really am, solidifying what I've feared most: I am a mess.

--

Throughout my life, the common perception of Christina Ludwick was [and sometimes still is] "That girl's got it together."

In school.
In sports.
At home.
With my friends.
At church.
In planning my future.

And it's my fault people think that.

Having it all together is an illusion I have prided myself in for years. Since the moment I dribbled a basketball and served a volleyball, my identity has been defined by a hardwood floor and the bleachers surrounding it. Wins and losses alongside statistics and recognition built a foundation (and not to mention an ego) that was sure to break some day down the road. (And it did, but I'm not quite ready to revisit that just yet...). But as far as any bystander knew, I had it all and loved every minute of it.

Not quite.

Sure I was a top student and an All-State athlete; most people would kill to have one or the other, let alone both. The problem? That's how I defined myself. I had built up a false sense of self and rooted my security in accomplishments. The roar of the crowd and the pats on the back fed the need to keep the charade going. They thought I was confident, and I promised myself they would never know different.

But oh, how different it was.

Long nights of crying alone in my room. Mornings of staring at the mirror through tear-filled eyes and hating what I saw. Lunch times eating with friends and questioning what they really thought about me. Drives home from practice wondering if people would still like me if I gave it all up.

If I ever had a second of downtime, my mind raced. What if they find out? What if they realize I don't believe half the things people say about me (or that I say about myself)? So I filled my schedule.

The busier I got, the easier it got to drown out the fears. The more in my schedule, the less I thought about who I was letting down. The stronger I portrayed confidence in myself, the deeper my insecurities dug and the more they grew.

You think I would have taken a step back, realized the destructive pattern, and stopped it all together. But that's the problem. Then they would know. They would know I'm not perfect. That I might not love myself. That I was finding my security in people's praise because I couldn't find it in myself. They would know I was a fake.

So the cycle continued.

And it still continues today. As I realized a few days ago.

---

So there we sat, my roommate and I, by the pool as I cried and let every unbecoming thought of myself come out in the open. My dreams remaining stagnant. My goals left unattained. My heart still unfulfilled. My passions drying up. My strength wearing thin.

What if they know I'm not sure of myself? What if they realize I don't have it all together? What will they do when they find out I have open wounds and persistent fears?

My fights and struggles are different today than they were back in high school and college. Some are still the same raging storms returning to wreak havoc on my perfect put-together life. Others are new, unfamiliar fears creeping up on me during my busy life and airtight schedule ready to take me by surprise at any moment. I fought many battles against the insecurities of my past before, and still know them by name.

Success.
Stature.
Respect.
Approval.
Applause.

These monsters still grip me today, much like they did before.

But if I know anything, it is this: God's love is stronger than any insecurity that eats away at my self-worth. He is sovereign and with him I can conquer any obstacle facing me: even those rooted deep inside my soul that I so often choose to bury. I was beautifully and wonderfully made by a Creator who loves me for all that I am, all that I was, and all that I am supposed to be. He loves me in my failures, shortcomings, and biggest mistakes. I serve a God who looks at me regardless of my accomplishments, my strivings, and my good deeds. His love is unconditional, His perception unskewed, and He longs for me to see myself through His eyes.

And I think that's a good place to start.

When we embrace God's sovereignity we find that
confidence increases,
insecurities fade,
worries decrease,
and calmness replaces striving.
-Charles Swindoll-