The other day the realization hit me with the weight of a freight train carrying a load of bricks.
Holy crap. I'm growing up.
Let me try to explain. I turned sixteen last month, and with that, I've been learning a lot lately, hence the growing up part. Little did I know that this was what growing up feels like. It's hard, scary, and downright painful.
Anyway. One of the biggest lessons is that I've realized that I can't care what other people think of me. I have to be me.
For some of you, this may not be a huge realization. But for me, it is. I've always tried to be the one to fit in, even to the point of changing myself to gain acceptance, over the course of several friendships. Was that right? Heck no. But for the past fifteen years, it's been the reality. My reality.
This year, God and I have been talking. He's been working on my heart. He's been leading me to realize that it's okay to be me. Because honestly, who else would I be? I have to be okay with being honest and open about where I'm at. Embracing the imperfections. And being confident in myself enough to be who I am and not care about what others think. I'm letting my colors burn.
This hasn't been easy. I've lost a lot through this process. I'm constantly hounded by the Enemy of my soul who desires to kill my light. But not this time.
Lately, this thought has been burned into my mind and heart: I am wonderful and accepted just the way I am. It rocked my world. Though I'm a perfectionist and people-pleaser, I've been learning to just let go and live my life. I may be a mess. I'm far from perfect.
But I am loved.
And I have to let my colors burn.