Tight Shoes

This was the conclusion from my session with Karla last night: I'm wearing shoes that don't fit.

That actually makes a lot more sense than it looks like at first. The thing is, I'm still wearing old perceptions, expectations, attitudes, etc. that used to work but don't anymore. They used to fit perfectly - they were genuinely who I was and they worked to help me function in the world - but I've changed and the things I'm letting dictate how my life goes aren't consistent with who I am. Does that make sense? I'm still living in this old skin. It's like shoes that fit at one time and looked great - everyone saw them and thought, "Ooh...those look nice," but now they're all scuffed and ragged and not looking so great. They hurt me. Even though they make me uncomfortable and aren't right for me any more, I still wear them every day. I let them give me blisters and cramp my feet and keep me from moving like I want to simply because they used to work.

My shoes are too tight.

It's so easy to do that, isn't it? It's so easy to fall into this little routine of who we are, and then it's like we wake up one day and realize, "Wait a minute. This feels weird." I'm in that place right now, I think. I'm married and trying to create a life with my husband, but I'm still living under the same rules as before. I'm still trying desperately to make my parents proud, to keep everyone happy, to hold things together, to pursue dreams that I'm told I should have. I don't think those things are bad, but they aren't who I am, maybe, and they're keeping me from being able to be me. I have to find me before I can be happy in this skin. I have to figure out what it means to be Jess, not Jessica who is the middle child and the honor student and the chorus member and the crew captain. I have to find Jess, the follower of Christ and wife and social worker. I have to stop allowing myself to fall into old patterns and find out what it means to create and live my own life. I think this is a normal part of development and growth, but I - who hate change so much that I refused to be born until 3 weeks after my original due date - haven't handled the necessary transitions very well. I just need to alow myself to flex and see what it feels like to let myself not do what I've always done. It might feel good. I might like it, and who knows? It might make my parents proud, keep everyone happy, hold things together, and point me toward my dreams. That would be nice. In the meantime, though, I have to tear myself away from these old shoes.