Saturday night I borrowed a DVD from a friend that was an introduction to a system that helps you identify your energy type. I was excited to find out which one I belonged to because it seems very beneficial to learn more about your tendencies, personality, and sense of style which I desperately need!(This is not the sour part in case you are wondering). It was just an intro, so it went over each type briefly, showing a picture of a woman that was that specific type along with other things in nature that coincided. Type 1 was for bubbly and friendly people that have high energy and a positive outlook on life. Type 3 was the woman who was a very determined and hard worker, and could accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Type 4 was the confident and opinionated woman, who was bold. None of those seemed to fit exactly right. Type 2 was explained as the soft and subtle woman who was very detail oriented and well, a worry wort. A picture of an elderly lady with white hair popped up on the screen and yes you guessed it, that was my energy type. The one I didn’t want to be. Friendly, hard worker or confident sounded great, but mine was the quiet subtle one with the granny picture. Not really what I wanted to hear. From there it all went downwards, not because there is anything necessarily wrong with that type of person, but because I was once again reminded of all the things that I didn’t like about myself. I must say that the video was not to blame at all, as it was very positive, and feeling negative about myself was my own choice.
When I woke up Sunday morning, I tried not to think about what that granny and I had in common. I got ready for church, but I could tell that my emotions were already a little raw. At church, I made an effort to really study the sacrament hymn. I told myself that Jesus Christ died for me personally and that must mean that I am special . As much as I wanted to believe it, I couldn’t. The question “Why?” kept coming to my mind. “Why did Heavenly Father make me this way?” “Why am I so lacking in talents and gifts, and why is it so hard for me to make friends?” “Why do I have to be the quiet boring one?” “Why couldn’t I be the confident one or the one that makes friends easily?” I entered the gospel doctrine room full of men and women and felt like filler. I didn’t contribute, I just filled in the open space. I noticed the people around me. I wished to be that bubbly outgoing woman who gave the lesson, or the strong and confident one who wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion. Envying others talents or gifts only made things worse, and by the next hour, my small shred of happiness had faded. Finding myself close to tears, I left relief society and drove home.
Once there, I talked to Kevin who had left church to put Dallin down for his nap. I poured out my emotions and told him how much I didn’t like myself. How confused I was as to my purpose in this life, because I felt that I had so little to offer. I talked to him about all the things I’m not: the crafter, the fashion queen, the chef, the health nut, the marathon runner, the adventurer, the Martha, the Betty, the college degree achieving, type, and how at times I wonder what I am exactly. Questions like “What makes me special? and ” What do I have to offer?” were repeated over and over in my mind, but try as I could, I could not find an uplifting answer. I told him that all I really know is I’m a mom. I do mom things. I live a mom life. I give most of my day to my three kids, and I come up for air when bedtime comes. Then I stay up late trying to soak up the quiet that is rarely heard in our house. I attempt to socialize via facebook/email/blogging so that I can feel like I have had some connection to the outside world, and then I go to bed. Around 5 or 6am it starts all over again. I told him that what I do every day can be challenging, and there a lot of times that I feel very inadequate. I’ve always wanted to be a mom and have lots of kids, but at times I’ve questioned whether this work was meant for me. I expressed wondering what I was thinking when I thought I could take care of 3 small children, 3 years old and younger, and do a good job of it. I’m the girl who stopped playing a game of rummy as soon as the cards didn’t seem to play in my favor, and boy being a mom of three sure doesn’t play in my favor sometimes. Kevin was as always, a great support and was kind enough to listen and really hear me out. He offered some advice and perspective that helped.
To be honest this last year has been extremely trying, but I tend to keep these kinds of things to myself because yes, I’m the “quiet” type, and I feel so comfy in my little box. There have been several times in the last few months where I have really questioned my ability to be a good mom, and since that has always been my dream and is currently my main calling at this point, feeling that I’m not good at it anymore has sent me into spurts of depression. Days when I would wake up in the morning and just feel sad, really sad. Many times when I didn’t feel at all like myself, and not always knowing why I felt the way I did. Going to bed close to midnight and waking up for Dallin 430am feeding for the last year probably hasn’t helped, as I’m sure that lack of sleep is part of it. Things have gotten better since he is finally sleeping later into the morning, but I would be lying if I said I don’t struggle at times.
I struggle with the job of a wife/homemaker/mom and with feeling that I am not good enough. Seeing all the “supermoms” out there who manage to keep everything together and then some. I struggle with the feeling that I don’t really amount to much as a person, that I’m boring and lack talent and gifts, and that is why I don’t have close friends. After the girls were born I was convinced that the only reason people talked to me was because I had twins, because what else is interesting about me? Every woman I come in contact with seems to have so many amazing gifts and talents that are so obvious, and at times I am intimidated by those who seem to be able to do everything, and do it well. I admire so many of you women out there, and I could probably make a list of your qualities and talents that I wish I could have too.
I know things will get better as I change my perspective and learn to love myself for who I am. For now, I’m OK with just admitting that this phase of my life has its own unique challenge and that I have a lot to work on. I hope to be able to turn some of my weaknesses into strengths, but at the end of the day I hope to be happy with the woman who has never been able to run more than a few miles, or gotten a college degree, who considers herself socially retarded, and isn’t the loudest most interesting person in the room. I have been blessed with the gospel, a great husband, and healthy kids, and I’m so lucky to be a stay at home mom. Even with all that I still feel down at times, as silly as that might seem. I know there are sources of strength that I can call on, whether they be family, the scriptures, conference talks, and ultimately my Heavenly Father, and that gives me hope.