I’ve spent my twenties trying to figure out who the heck I am.
I think the confusing part of “finding myself” has been that I’ve been trying to use everyone else’s measuring stick. I’ve tried to fit into whatever box I needed to.
Be a “good” Christian.
Don’t be a drain on society.
Make your parents proud.
Make sure you’re valuable at work so your boss doesn’t fire you, or just overlook you indefinitely.
Don’t be too pushy.
Don’t be too shy.
Lose weight so the men will want you.
Be funny so your friends will want you.
Do something significant so people will respect you.
I could go on and on. I suppose that many of those things aren’t bad in and of themselves. But any identity taken on, to please someone else, just won’t last.
To me, the worst lie of all, is that God wants us to be something that we’re not.
To be pleasing to him, we had better move to India and become a missionary, or listen to Carmen all day long.
I’ve realized more and more that God wants me to be ME. After all, he made me the way I am. I’m moved by certain kinds of music. I like to act like a kid sometimes. I’m a starter, but not a finisher. I enjoy making people mildly uncomfortable, especially when it might push them to reevaluate themselves. I do work hard, on the things that I feel passionate about.
And I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable when people question and wrestle with God. In fact, it excites me.
I’m not entirely certain what is my specific purpose in life. But I do now know that whatever it is, I won’t have to become someone else to do it.
Yes, there’s tons of room for growth and maturity.
But I am who I am.
And I like who I am.
And it’s taken me 30 years to be able to say that.