I keep coming back to this topic.
I can't quite make myself believe it.
I care so much what people think of me. I know its probably true that only mad people care nothing of what people think and that a little care is wise.
But I care so much.
The other day I posted a comment on a bloggy friends blog.
I commented because I felt I kind of knew her and meant it as a gentle conversation starter.
An opinion broadener or a "did you consider this point of view" er.
Anyway, her response to my comment was short, frank, and pretty much broke me.
I was crippled with shame and swore to myself then and there I would never blog nor even
post on Facebook ever again.
I care so much.
Tonight I was lying face down in my bed after a particularly gruelling Sunday night dinner/bath/bed routine.
I was thinking about the exhaustion of caring so much. Of second guessing myself at every turn.
I was going over and over in my mind the things I'd done and said today, this week, this year.
I was creating a lovely circular pity party in my mind about how everyone feels sad about this,
I'm not special, but it's hard, blah blah blah.
And then, I prayed.
I know you are the only one who's opinion matters but you know I don't
really see you every day.
I see these people every day and have to make choices about what to do
in front of them.
They're the ones who make throwaway comments for me to over-analyse.
I don't see you every day.
And then... (You know where this is going don't you) BOOM.
I don't see you every day.
We've been all kinds of sick in our house this last two weeks and my daily quiet time has
gone down the toilet with the tonnes of tissues I've used to blow my nose.
In that moment I remembered a little book sitting in our shelf called "You are Special."
It's about a little puppet who gets black stickers put on him by all the other puppets because
of the silly things he does. (Sound familiar?)
The puppet finally goes to his maker to go and figure some stuff out.
I'm going to write some of this down and I hope Mr Lucado doesn't get too sad.
The puppet maker says
"All that matters is what I think. And I think you're pretty special...because you are mine.
Every day I've been hoping you'd come... The stickers only stick if you let them.
The more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers."
"I'm not sure I understand." says the little puppet.
"You will, but it will take time. For now, come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care. Remember, you are special because I made you. And I don't make mistakes."
You see, I do see people every day and the things they say I will always over-analyse.
My head will always tell me I'm doing the wrong thing and that I'm not cool, or tidy or
awesome enough but if I'm going to my maker every day to hear the truth not about how
awesome I am but about how amazing his love is then I can really and truly let go of caring
what other people think.
It can no longer cripple me.
The dots and even the gold stars when I get things right will no longer stick.
Image Credit : SheReadsTruth