With Scars That Sparkle

Atelophobia is the fear of not being good enough. And if you are anything close to human, I’m sure you have wrestled with this fear at some point in your lifetime. The idea of being alone and rejected from society is one of the leading reasons why we function in the manner that we do. 

But it isn’t our fault.

From the time we are young, the world has told us to hide what we don’t like about ourselves. It has told us to hide our fears and imperfections. 

But why?

To be universally accepted…to be considered beautiful or strong by others.  

But is beauty or strength really rooted in hiding?

If you hide your imperfections, are you truly beautiful? 

If you hide and suppress the issues of your past mistakes, are you really strong?

I know I’m not the only one who spends so much time trying to be someone else.

I want others to see me as a strong, beautiful woman. But I have been going about it all the wrong way. I have been hiding. I have been hiding the real me. 

Why?

In all honesty, it’s because I don’t like the real me. The real me is a woman that has depression, anxiety, and an anything but clean past record. Why would I EVER want to reveal her to others? If I don’t like myself how can I expect others to like me?

I’d like to share a story with you.

About five months ago I was struggling with my anxiety and depression among many other things and I got to a point where I was fed up. I was done struggling with myself and I was ready to give up on everything. I wanted to drop off of the face of the earth. I figured, who could ever love someone like me? Who would ever be able to love someone with a past like mine? With panic attacks or with depression? Who really in their right mind would ever want to tolerate me for the rest of their lives? I was suffering every day without a purpose. I would wake up, have a panic attack and spend the rest of the day upset with myself and depressed because I feared that no one would love me. I remember asking, “God…where are you?” all day long and still feeling totally alone. I honestly felt like I was dying. So one morning I got up and I dragged myself to a church to meet with one of my favorite priests to tell him that I was leaving.

“Father, I came to tell you that I’m leaving.”

“Where will you be going?”

“Just away from here. I can’t be around people anymore, no one will love me as myself and I don’t want to pretend anymore. I feel like I’m dying.”

“Dying, huh? Let’s sit and have a chat.”

We sat and talked and I told him everything and then he asked me what I thought would be a solution to all of this.

“Father, I need anointing of the sick because I am dying.” (Meanwhile in my head I was thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, did I just say that???’)

“Okay. I agree. Meet me back here tomorrow and you will receive the sacrament.”

Anointing of the sick is usually a sacrament given to those who are deathly ill and is uncommonly given to those who aren't a few days from death's door.

 I was excited, yet scared —but I went ahead and met with him the next day and received the sacrament. 

That is when everything changed.

By the grace of God, I was able to see my struggles as strengths. My strength was not rooted in hiding those struggles, but in utilizing them to better the world around me. It was NEVER about me. The ways in which we suffer are never only about us. It is about the community around us.

 I will use anxiety and depression as my two examples. My anxiety, although it is a huge burden in MY life, it has been a blessing to those around me. I have high levels of adrenaline in my body because of my anxiety—allowing me to get multiple jobs done faster and more efficiently for others compared to if I did not have anxiety to give me that extra boost. My depression wears me down every day, but it allows me to connect with others that also have depression in a special way. I have been in their shoes before so it’s easier for me to really understand when they share their struggles with me. I can offer them practical advice that I have tried before and let them know that they are not alone in the struggle with depression.

How do you live as truly you?

It requires you to befriend your true self and to bring your true self home. This is a true act of courage because in bringing your true self home, it will require you to also befriend your imperfections. A task that is mountain-high for many of us. But when you begin to recognize that your imperfections can become your strengths, it will allow you to bring authentic beauty into the world. As we begin to recognize our imperfections and discover how to use them for good or to assist others in this life, a seed of beauty is planted in our hearts. As we begin to grow and learn in this life, that seed grows. We become more beautiful and the fruit that we bear from that plant is love. Then, that love takes our imperfections and triumphs over them transforming them into strengths. Once that seed is planted, we begin to radiate love and beauty because our imperfections become our strengths instead of burdens. 

 As we recognize our weaknesses and triumph over them, our hearts are transformed. When you discover that your true self is good and beautiful, you will discover Jesus in you. I did not feel Jesus in those times of suffering because I was suppressing and denying my imperfections in a battle with myself. 

Where you are most human and the weakest, there, Jesus lives. 

 That is where you will find Him, and when you bring your true self home, you bring Jesus home.

The greatest act of strength and beauty is to be and own all that you are.

Without apology.

Without excuses.

Without any masks to cover the truth of who you are.

I challenge you to bring your brokenness and not to hide or suppress what you consider to be your imperfections. As you begin to befriend your WHOLE self (including your imperfections) you will find that life will get MUCH easier and much more meaningful. 

When you live each day knowing that 

the scars that you carry around on your heart are diamonds, 

life has a different meaning.

Love Always, 

Coco