Don't get me wrong, I have a fantastic life--a beautiful home, loving family, and a wonderful husband. But there is a problem. A big problem. Some days it eats at me constantly while other days it creeps in so unexpectedly I am not prepared to deal with it. Those days are always the most devastating. It's not anything you can take a pill for, nothing a night out with friends, or a new haircut can take care of. I'm talking about insecurity.

For most of my life I have been a confident person. I came to grips with the fact that I'll never be an athlete, artist, or good at anything that requires coordination—I dance like a middle-aged white lady with one leg and four feet. But I was OK with that. Happy even. But that was because I had built my identity on something else: my intellect.

Since I was young, my family placed a enormous amount of importance on academics. And while my siblings and I were involved in extra curricular activities such as classical guitar, violin, soccer, and horseback riding, we strove to excel in school above anything else. I made sure I always had good grades and was praised by my parents for my achievements. I carried my good study ethic with me into college and found myself sustaining a 4.0 halfway through my junior year. Everything was going according to plan. Only two more years and I would be on my way to a career in publishing, while be married to the most incredible man in the world--I know all wives say that about their husbands, but sorry ladies, this time it's true. I have never felt so content in my life. But then life does what it always does when you have a master plan. It changes it.

After my first semester of junior year, my husband was applying for multiple jobs in another state and we realized that finishing my degree at the university I was currently attending was not going to be an option. In the meantime, while we waited to hear about his possible job opportunities, we found it made financial sense for me to work full time before the move and to help pay off the wedding. Because let me tell you, friends, weddings aren't cheap. I was happy to be able to contribute financially to the our family, but as weeks went by I gradually felt a change take place inside me.

I criticized myself for simple mistakes I wouldn't have otherwise beaten myself up for, the time I spent comparing myself to other people increased at an alarming rate, and I found myself holding back my thoughts and opinions when talking to Chase because I started to believe that what I said didn't matter.

I didn't understand what was happening to me, so I tried to stop my downward spiral with any superficial change, hoping that would fix the problem. I cut my hair, joined a gym, bought new clothes...but nothing helped. In fact each new change made me feel worse because I had exhausted my options and nothing was working. But it wasn't until I realized that my insecurities stemmed from an identity crisis, that I was able to slowly pick myself up off the ground. I had placed my identity in academia, intelligence, and initiative in school instead of in the one place that it truly belongs. In God.

We will always have individual shortcomings or flaws that keep us from ever being truly happy with the people that we are. I could be skinnier, prettier, smarter, funnier, more outgoing, more successful, but even if I "fixed" all of these things, I would find myself unsatisfied and feeling unworthy. But when I place my identity in Christ I find a peace unlike I've ever felt before. I am the daughter of the king. The all-powerful creator of the universe knows the depths of my heart, and he calls me his beloved daughter. He loves me more than anyone on earth could ever love me.

Now I'm not saying that this realization has irradiated every feeling of inadequacy inside me, and there are weak moments on my worst days where the ugly insecurities come creeping from the dark corners of my mind, but I try to wake up each morning with the mindset that my savior loves me so much that he gave his life so I could spend eternity with him.

And that makes all the difference.