Confessions of a Pretender

I’ve been chewing on an idea for over three weeks now (this only partially explains my absence), but every time I have sat down to write, my brain becomes so fully overloaded that it has taken time to compile, condense, and make sense of all these thoughts…

Alas, here I am. Warning: This post is low on photos and high on words. (Photos to come soon!)

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The other day someone said to me something along the lines of: I feel like everyone thinks that I have it all together when really I’m just trying to get by. I have no idea what I’m really doing and I’m terrified that someone’s going to find out and catch on to me at any moment.

Pretending. We all do it.

These words resonated to my core: as a woman, a Christian, a student, a bride, a (soon to be) wife, a therapist (in training), a friend, an instructor…and almost every area of my life. 

I completely understand that feeling of “I really hope you don’t find out that I have no idea what I’m doing.” It haunts me many days. I wear the masks. I pretend that I think I’m a good bride–planning, organizing, obsessing over every small detail. I pretend I am ready to be a therapist, to sit in the darkest corners of a person’s soul…when really I’m not enjoying (so much) the wedding planning…because I don’t fit the mold. I’m not like every other bride and I want to do things my own way, but I feel the pressure to be the “right” bride. And I’m terrified of being a therapist. I led a group therapy for other students this summer…and again…no idea. But I put my “therapist” mask on and therapize, I did. I shake my booty in front of tons of women practically everyday, and I ask them to love their bodies, to appreciate their (inner and outer) strength…and then I, myself, succumb to the cultural stereotype of beauty and am crippled in never feeling good enough. 

Last year I wrote about being genuine in my 31 days to a better twenty-something-year-old and I am noticing how easily I forget things.

I forget to take off my “I have it all together masks” but truly…I don’t. And part of being a genuine person and a Christian living for Christ is recognizing that He is the only part of me that has it all together. He is the only one who is together. Period. 

Me? Well, I fumble around, I do my best, but I always fall short. 

Confession…

I don’t do all the reading I’m supposed to do for school. (You can only appreciate this if you’re in or have been in graduate school. 😉 )

I think this whole wedding thing is too much money spent on one day. (Note: this does not mean I am against the marriage.)

I am preparing to be a good therapist, but I don’t know that I’ll ever feel ready.

I only put the best pieces of me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and whatever other social media I subscribe to.

You’ll never see me post a picture of myself with puffy, red, eyes, and a snotty nose because I’ve been crying (although that has been my face at least once the past three days. It just has.)

Sometimes I think Zumba is stupid. I get bored and don’t want to motivate someone else to ‘shake their groove thang.’ (but I do it…because in general…I love it.)

Sometimes I’m nasty when I’m hurt. 

I desire to spend quiet time with God, often…and don’t…a lot.

I’m afraid of being a wife…because I’m not sure I fit the mold. I’m afraid I won’t be “good” enough.

And my list could go on for days. My point is that…we all let everyone around us think that we do have it all together. And this creates this air of pressure. I do not know how we’ve done it, but we have all so perfectly pretended that we have all forgotten that we’re pretending. We rarely cry out for help. We are even sometimes in-genuine with the people closest to us! We lie. We smile. We fake it until we make it (or we explode.)

Maybe I’m overgeneralizing. Maybe I’m the only one that wears my masks. Maybe everyone else really does just have it that together, my sneaking suspicion is not, but what do I know. 

I do know that my friends who allow me to be myself, who allow me to remove all my masks, who invite me to say “I’m scared because…” “I’m tired of…” “I don’t think I am able to…” “I’m really crazy…” or whatever insecurity it is for the day, well they are the absolutely best people to have around. I have had the blessing of being really close fiends with a few of these incredible people and they have radically changed my concept of friendship and of myself. And that is truly priceless.

My truth: Most days I do feel quite crazy, sometimes because I’m driving myself crazy, others because I can’t meet everyone else’s standard. I don’t fit many molds. I’m different. 

Today, I plant, raise, and proudly salute my not-all-together-freak flag. I’m done; I am openly breaking the mold.