A Home of Insecurity
My insecurities are not my insecurities.
They are not mine insofar as they do not have to ultimately define me. They are mine insofar as I have become accustomed to them and even "accostumed" to them.
I have insecurities. I have doubts. I have moments of judgment and self-deprecation. To pretend them away or to ignore them is to feed them in one capacity. Repression does tend fires we would rather not feed. Yet to indulge them, to live in them, to see that I have them and to say they are me... It is a form of decision and resignation I cannot abide either. Or rather, it is to abide in a home that is toxic to me, to create a comfort zone of insecurity is to say that I am most comfortable with these thought patterns, with these ways of being and perceiving. I can mask my insecurities and so deceive myself or I can make my insecurities my mask, and so deceive myself. If I am more comfortable with light half-dimmed, with life half-lived, with dreams half-realized... it only means I have made a home here.
I see the child inside me needing to be loved, and I nourish that child with love and affection.
I see the skeptic in me looking for answers, not seeing how things may come to pass, and I acknowledge what he sees.
I see the parts of me that are most comfortable in unaddressed insecurity and I take heart and give courage.
I am free to build a new dwelling that gives room for life, discovery, for possibility and adventure. The neural pathways we create help define our reality, and sometimes we come to a point where comfortable ways of thinking for us are blocks to full expression of our personality and potential.
I have lived in a home of insecurity, and I can face insecurity when it re-presents itself. I don't have to live there.
Take heart and have courage and kindness. Your insecurities are not your ultimate home.