I've come to a place in my life, and it did take me quite a long time to get here, where I am seriously confident in who I am.
There are times, though, and I admit it that my confidence can be shaken.
Regarding my writing, it gets shaken a lot.
Regarding my self-image, I shake it myself.
But I'm never sure what to do when I'm the topic of conversation. The perception of others is basically what people think of me. I am what I am. What you see is what you get.
I don't have it all together but i certainly won't be smattering my issues all over you.
Unless you ask.
But ... The perceptions of others.
It's almost like this .... standard.... which I have to achieve.
Like: happy all the time.
--- I'm not.
--- mostly. But sometimes i'm quite wit less.
--- not every moment of every day.
I'm never sure what to do with the wrong perceptions either..
I've been told I'm religious.
-- I'm not. He meant I'm a person of faith - but he used the phrase religious because he misunderstood the meaning. But it still made me question where I might be walking in a religious mindset.
The perceptions that hurt the most are the ones from my kids, i think..
I've been told I'm fat. (I'm not skinny...but I prefer chubby to fat)
The other day I waxed poetic for a moment, wondering aloud if I could handle having a baby right now. (Writing about pregnant characters brings up some odd emotions, let me tell you)
J-man said, "Why would she want another kid, she's always stressed out now."
He's a meanie-head.
I'm not stressed out...but it's a phrase The Professor brings to the table when things are not smooth sailing. I know stress. This isn't it.
This is life with four world changers. Who are completely different personalities.
Who are often at odds with each other.
Who are constantly having to be reminded to honor each other.
I see glimpses of this love and honor but we're not fully walking in it -- yet.
However, his perception hurt my feelings.
I don't like being the bad cop all the time. I don't like it when the Professor gets to come home from work all happy and cheerful, glad to be home, and I'm still the bad cop.
It's not fair... and I realize that life is no fair...
but I find this perception of me just a bit concerning. Yes. Fine. I'll say it. It bothers me.
I don't want him growing up with only memories of me 'being stressed out' in his brain.
I'm not sure what to do to counter it except to trust that God can and will deliver my children from my mistakes.
In the meantime, I've found myself curiously introspective and watchful on how I react to things...
I'm not sure much can be done.
I'm out numbered.