An open letter to my self-doubt:
Dear self-doubt,
If you were a phase people go through, you’d be the “bad crowd” or “bad influence” phase. You are the person who makes people question their identity, do things they wouldn’t do normally, make them wonder what they even stand for anymore. While most people go through their “bad crowd” phase in their teen years, my relationship with you has been lifelong - far too long.
I can remember the first time we were introduced and became acquainted: it was kindergarten and it was the first time I remember realizing my parents were “divorced.” It was in class and we had to draw our homes - I drew my two houses, me with my mom at one house and me with my dad at the other.
I was proud of my drawing but that’s when a girl pointed out that I was the only one with two houses. This is when you saw your opportunity to slip into my mind. Why didn’t I have a drawing like everyone else? This is when you introduced yourself to me. I wouldn’t let you get comfortable, though. Soon, you left my mind and I was carefree again.
Then third grade rolled around - the first time I was ever called “fat.” It was by a boy that I had a crush on, which made it worse for me but better for you. You take delight in my pain and so you crept back in - this time you brought an overnight bag with you.
By sixth grade, you had stayed over so often, you decided to keep a toothbrush and a phone charger at my house - you said it’d be easier this way and I didn’t know how to tell you no. You were creeping into my life more and more each day and I didn’t know how to stop it.
Come high school, you had started bringing boxes. We were in a committed relationship and you were moving in. I accepted my fate and let you in; and in return, you held me back from allowing myself to be loved by people who would’ve made me realize I didn’t need you, that I am a whole person without you.
You began to get clingy and would tighten your hold on me so much I never allowed myself the opportunity to get close to people in a way that they would love me wholly and well - why would they love me when you told me I wasn’t someone another person could actually love?
As do most relationships with people from your childhood, college was our downfall. You were almost completely moved in and settled, you almost won my life completely. Thankfully, I have become closer to my relationship with God and know my worth through Him now - there went the boxes. Thankfully, I joined an organization that helped me find myself and become more in touch with what I stood for again - there went the toothbrush and phone charger.
Thankfully, I found friends who broke through the walls you so carefully crafted around my heart by constantly reminding me of my worth, finally freeing me to be loved fully and completely - there went the overnight bag. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes you and I still grab lunch to catch up and you may end up hanging around all day and eventually just crash on my couch for the night. But by morning you are always gone.
Self-doubt, I am tired of you overstaying your welcome. I am taking back control over my life. We are breaking up, and I just have to say one thing: It's not me, it's you.
No longer yours,
Kacy
