Free to Be Me

It is exhausting trying to be the person I think the world wants me to be. How freeing it would be to not worry about what I'm wearing, is my make-up applied just so and is that one hair still in the exact spot I placed it? Not to mention, trying to sound like I know what I'm talking about, and presenting myself as a confident, assertive, intelligent woman in the know. It's just too much! I envy women that wake up in the morning, can throw anything on their cute "little" body, pull their hair up in a pony tail or clip and look like a fresh scrubbed cover girl with nothing on their face but a smile. (If I could spell the sound of me sticking my tongue out and blowing, I would and it would be inserted here.)

My husband, Richard is the free-est person I know. Just being a man frees him up a lot, because the world puts much more pressure on us women. But, he is happy just being him. I can look in the mirror and come up with a list of things that I am sure the rest of the world should not be subjected to see. It's a wonder I'm not sitting in a dark closet with a bag over my head. Richard on the other hand can look in the mirror (all of 1.5 seconds) and declare himself not only acceptable, but better than average. Then on second look decide that he's darn handsome and mean it!

I'm constantly monitoring what I say and how I say it. I talk quite a bit so that's a lot of editing. More often than not some things slip through my lips that the editor didn't catch. Richard (being of the male persuasion) does not use near as many words as I do during a day. So when he actually does talk, he is usually the voice of reason. It's easy to be reasonable when you only use a handful of sentences a day!

Richard never gets embarrassed. I get embarrassed daily and it can be over anything. One example is, it is such a man thing to be perfectly content with their bodies and such a woman thing to not be. I don't even want to be naked in the bathtub and Richard could live as a nudist. He just doesn't get embarrassed being naked, although there have been a few times I thought he should have been! FYI: Don't bend over to scrub the bathtub naked! (I once thought a wildebeest was trapped in my bathroom. My eyesight has never been the same.)

We love music. I have chosen to leave the art of singing to those that have been given that gift. If there is a song playing that I like, I usually sing along with it in my head. I have been known to sing softly with a song, but rarely. Richard, bless his heart, loves music but definitely did not get the gift of song. When the Bible says make a joyful noise to the Lord, Richard's name is beside it. I used to get so embarrassed in church during worship music, when Richard at the top of his voice, arms raised, belted out a song. Too bad it wasn't to the tune or words of what the rest of us were singing. Rhythm is also a problem with him. He claps in between the beat that everyone else is clapping to. He definitely claps to his own drummer. (We'll save dancing for another blog) Now, I am no longer embarrassed of Richard singing in church. I now watch and listen in awe of his ability to sing and worship the Lord like there is no one else in the room. (Although if I listen too closely, I do get the giggles.) I am jealous of his freedom.

I have not gotten over being embarrassed of Richard's other singing performances in public places. Last week we were at the movies. As the credits rolled, a song from the past was playing. I don't remember what it was because I've tried to block out the memory. Richard standing up getting ready to leave, starts singing with the soundtrack and adds his own version of dancing with it. I, still seated, grabbed his leg, begging STOP! SIT! He sits down laughing saying, "what?" Needless to say, I didn't look anyone in the eye while exiting.
Last night we were at a restaurant waiting to be seated. Over the loudness of so many people, eating, talking and having a good time, "Oldies but Goodies" tunes were playing over the sound system. We were having to stand there with many others because there were no other seats available for waiting, when Richard starts belting out Jerry Lee Lewis' "Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire!" complete with head popping and leg slapping. I had to put a halt to his good time by giving him "the eye" and telling him "do not sing here" under my breath. As I looked around there was one woman smiling at me, giving me the pity, I understand smile. Oh, to be so free.

I don't know why I compulsively worry and care about what other people think of me. I guess it's because I have been rejected so much that being accepted is the way I feel like I am approved of. It's so hard to remember that the people of this world do not compare to the One who has already accepted me. God accepted me just as I am, not pretending to be anyone else.
He knows me better than I know myself and He loves me anyway. God sent His Son, Jesus to set the captives free. If He has already set me free, all I have to do is live like I am free. Hopefully, one day I will be able to say, "I am free, free at last!"