Life is hard, part 77

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I'm feeling very doubtful in my abilities these days. My abilities as: a potential employee, a yoga instructor, a writer, a friend, a daughter, a sister, etc. It's very strange to move back to the place you were born and raised. I feel equal parts failure and survivor; failing at being an adult, but surviving my turbulent past. 

Driving through Middleton is a constant reminder of the old, low self-esteemed me. The one who wanted to fit in with her peers so badly (like, pretty much everyone). The one who still holds grudges against old high school "bullies" and "mean girls." The one who, still, doesn't fit in anywhere--constantly living in the margins.

My mom reminded me of a passage in the book, Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, that is very apt to me, and my continued quest to find others like me, so that I no longer feel the need to change myself for anyone else:

If you have attempted to fit whatever mold and failed to do so, you are probably lucky. You may be an exile of some sort, but you have sheltered your soul. There is an odd phenomenon that happens when one keeps trying to fit and fails. Even though the outcast is driven away, she is at the same time driven right into the arms of her psychic and true kin, whether these be a course of study, an art form, or a group of people. It is worse to stay where one does not belong at all than to wander about lost for a while and looking for the psychic and soulful kinship one requires. It is never a mistake to search for what one requires. Never.

I keep needing to remind myself of this. I am not the prototype of a yoga instructor (as I'm so often reminded); I'm not the prototype of a white girl (since I'm "othered" depending on the group of people I'm around); I'm not the prototype of a feminist; I'm not the prototype of someone with learning disabilities, and on, and on.

Lately, I've been feeling like I should just "give up" on the things I am working on--but I know that wouldn't serve me. I know that I wouldn't be able to even if I tried.

I am not a "flashy" person--it will take you longer to figure me out. I have depth like the sea. Only those who are truly interested, will see me for who and what I really am.

And I guess I can't be mad about that.