21 October, 2015

Happy To Be Me

This last summer after a traumatic June (we bought a house, enough said?), a good July, and a difficult August (health-wise), I was listening to Meg Johnson's interview on the Mormon Channel. She was badly injured and ultimately paralyzed after a hiking trip in the red rocks, where she accidentally jumped off a cliff.

The whole interview was so good, but the part that gripped me and kind of squoze my heart was when she spoke about being in the hospital, unable to move anything but her eyes, and she was just willing the nurse to look at her, and to see her eyes smiling. She wanted the nurse to see that Meg was so happy that she was Meg.

I let my challenges, especially health challenges, dictate how I feel about myself. I think that I can be like Meg, so, so happy that I am me.

So I spent the end of summer and beginning of fall trying to have that attitude, regardless of what challenges came my way. There is always insecurity in the back of my mind over various things about myself or situations in my life, that seem to remind me, "Brooke, don't get too happy over who you are. You're not worth feeling happy over, remember?" And sometimes I listen and then I hurt, and then I realize that I made a mistake in listening to those thoughts, and I pray myself out of the pit and then I'm back on even ground again. Other times, I just feel so overwhelmingly happy that I'm me! Not in a self-aggrandizing way, but that I am myself, with my challenges, my husband, my children, my experiences, my growth, my mistakes, my hopes, my fears, my faith.

When we tell Kjel something nice about her, like, "Oh, Kjel, you are so sweet," she nods and says,

"Yes, yes I am!"

In conference we were told that to adequately love and serve someone, we have to view them as a parent views them. I think that applies to ourselves as well. If I loved myself the way I love my kids, I would never, ever get down on myself.

It seems all-encompassing and overwhelming, even now as I'm thinking about it. This whole post was prompted by a negative memory that started painting everything darkly in my mind about myself, my choices, my friendships. But then I remembered Meg and I remembered that I can be like her.

I am so happy to be myself.

So it doesn't matter what I think about me in my dark moments, or what others may think or say. It truly doesn't. I'm loved. By my Heavenly parents, my husband, my kids, my parents and siblings, my mother and father-in-law, and some near and dear friends who live both close and far away. They are happy I'm me.

If I keep saying it, if I keep working at it, it will become completely true, even in the moments when everything is telling me not to, I know I'll say (and mean it when I say):

I am so happy to be me. 

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