Yesterday, after wearing my PTA president hat at a school tour I got a compliment so thoughtful my heart swelled. I'd spoken in front of a large group of prospective parents and students and someone in the administration noted that not only am I a great speaker: poised, confident, able to make the audience feel both comfortable and welcome, I am a great mother. She hoped she be as good a mom when she has kids one day. That I am engaged, present, a remarkable role model. I said I happen to have great kids. She said they were great because of me.
I then met a friend for coffee who called me a needy drama queen.
And that was not an inaccurate observation. At times, rarely these days but it still comes out, I can be.
Later that night, at dinner with friends, we were talking family angst. It's rare that someone can top me when it comes to dysfunction and this was no exception. I know, as I openly shared how I can now separate and let go that I was being judged as heartless, cold. Detached. I can be that too. My life has taught me that lesson.
I also spent part of the day working on my kidney project. That one act changed the way many see me. While I'm the same person I was before, I chose to save a life and that's an amazingly brave, selfless thing to do. I still have trouble owning that about myself but those 4 red incisions on my abdomen are a constant reminder.
All these disparate pieces. All these experiences. All these scars have made me into someone I never could have imagined I'd be. And yet, sometimes I'm still wracked with insecurity, with feeling like a failure, a loser, that I haven't accomplished enough, done enough, am good enough. If only I'd followed a more conventional path. Had greater professional success. Tried harder, dug deeper, pushed more.
As I'm standing on the edge of reinventing myself into what I don't know, I wonder if I'll be able to do it again.
Or maybe, worrying about it is just the drama queen desperate to be heard.