For whatever reason (most of which I have only shared with God and those close to me), I have been on the search of perfect for a majority of a my childhood and into my adolescent years. Maybe one day I'll write or vlog about my experience in foster care being the oldest child of a sibling group of three... but for now just know that a lot of those experiences shaped me in ways that made me strong, while at the same time making me afraid to be weak
Afraid of imperfection.
Afraid that if imperfections showed in me, that somehow I would be loved less. That somehow, being perfect would have made my mom stay in 2001. That perfect was the solution and to never fall short of that. Coming out of The System I felt the need to prove myself as a young, black woman who did not grow up in a typical manner to everyone else looking in. I have always been strong-willed with a sense of what I wanted to do, and for the most part, I have accomplished the goals I had set forth for myself. I made it a point to do that. (I had my first job at 14 to save up for my Grand Am.)
I wanted to go to college, graduate and become a social worker (which I did, despite Multiple Sclerosis) but for what? And for who?
I was talking to a friend recently about my story; Life before MS, before the two miscarriages, before the fibroid removal surgeries... my life. And she called me something I have heard a lot in the past 25 years; An old soul.
I have been thinking and praying a lot over the last months about my purpose. I was so sure that I knew what it was and that the path I had picked out for myself was IT. But, while in the valley of MS-attacks, I have really learned that my plan may not be Gods plan. I'm learning to let go of perfection and embrace imperfection because for me, it makes me depend on God more than myself.
My thoughts of, "How am I going to be a Mom after all of this," was fear of imperfection. Fear that those looking in would point out what I was doing wrong and what I couldn't do and how I was not being a good mother because of MS and the wheelchair. Fear that I would not be good enough. Fear that I wasn't good enough.
Fear that I would not be able to be the mom who needed a walker to stand, while playing with her daughter and her doll stroller.
Fear is a great liar.
Knowing that perfect isn't the answer to my problems has been the key to unlocking me and my heart. Having faith in God and writing his truths on my heart has been what really makes me strong.
Maybe my legacy isn't going to be that of a former foster youth who made something of her life against all odds. But, a mother who prayed and pressed on in faith through trails and disease who raised a daughter to do the same.
A daughter who remembered playing with her doll stroller, while her mommy practiced standing.
Letting go of the past to press on towards the true goal in life. (Philippians 3:12-14)
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