The Girl I Mean to Be versus My Life as a Reality Show

Everyone has a self-concept, right? Here's how I see myself: I am a young-at-heart middle-aged rabid writer, authority-resistant libertarian, creative wanna-be nerd without any math skills, keen sense of humor, tending toward bouts of selfishness but trying to do better, clever planner, socially sort of awkward but hopefully affable enough to make up for it, woman who really does want to love Jesus a lot more than I do. There are probably other facets, like, of course, that I'm a mom who loves my kid... but I don't think that one's up for a lot of debate. Same thing about the fact that I am a wife who is absolutely devoted to my man.

Tonight, I was having a conversation with that man about my lingering self-consciousness from the complete mental/physical freak-out storm that I tossed the weekend before our wedding... when his brother and sister-in-law were here. I am ashamed of that whole episode, and want to protest, "But it's not fair to judge me by that! I hadn't slept more than 2-3 hours at a time in nearly two months! I was in chronic pain, I was sleep deprived, and I was losing it! But that's not *me*."

I like to think that the loss of control was an outlier. That's not who I am. I am a pretty calm chick who isn't genuinely thrown by much. Right?

And then I think back to my screaming on the phone at someone who had been my closest friend for a couple of years, because I was so angry and hurt at our situation, and there was no one to blame except maybe myself, but you can't holler and swear at yourself, or else people look at you like you have a screw loose.

I like to think that I don't abuse my friends, but I did this multiple times to this person, and I used the stress of our situation, which was actually *my* stress within the confines of it, as my excuse to indulge in my worst impulses to lash out, to hurt as badly as I was hurting.

But that's not my norm. Is it?

When I think about it, I'm not even sure... I consider my inability to make and maintain friendships (especially with women), about people who have told me that they've blocked me in their Facebook feed because it's "too much," or have unfriended me outright and I don't know why. I think about all of the relationships that have fallen away over the years, and have wondered why I haven't really made many of those "lifelong" alliances. I remember the fits, and the near- and outright-hysterics. I ponder angry tears, and easy jealousies, and conclusions jumped to without much examination.

I realize that I fail as a human being so frequently that this failure literally defines me. And I thank God for my husband and my daughter, who love me not just in spite of but even including these screw-ups. Because, if I take a cold, hard look at myself, I am forced to the conclusion that I alone am responsible for people who have flown from my life, for any negative reputations I might have (and the nature of that negativity varies depending on the crowd).

In truth, I want to be hurt and righteously indignant at the slights, the snubs, and the outright dumpings. But, in fact, all I can do is strive toward the person I want to be, this still-flawed but better version of who I am now, and hope to avoid any more collateral damage.

This is a struggle. Because, honestly, I'm emotionally exhausted already. I'd much prefer to stay home, with my two loves, where I'm accepted and comfortable. I want not to care what anyone else thinks. I want to know so much that they're wrong, that even the haters don't bother me. But I'm not there. I don't think I'll ever be there. So I have to do better. I have to be better. And I will be. So please hang on.