I have always devoted my existence to others. Chalk it up as excellent parenting on my parents part, or imbalanced training on selflessness. Or a bit of both. This instagram is the first time ever I have dared to not make posts and pictures about everything but me. As I’ve posted here before, this has been such a stretch for me and I have realized how it’s viewed by others, complete strangers or not, this hasn’t played in my favor. To set myself up as an individual not defined by a romantic relationship, social status, motherhood, or connected to any identity but my personal, um person... it’s been uncomfortable all the way around. I hate the judgments. Women I thought I knew well enough to think the best, unfollowed and red letter marked me. But more so I have hated how I have found this so difficult; revealing insecurity: but damn, that’s good. As woman we take on our roles quite seriously I think. We lose ourselves in them. And call this devotion, godly, maturity. Well, it’s not. As I sit here taking a brief moment from paying bills, shooting out business texts, scheduling meetings, whilst babysitting four girls under the age of 11 who presently are sweetly playing card games at another table in this coffee shop - due to my dysfunction of multitasking, I’ve also got a stack of receipts I am reviewing, an open book I’m reading a glance at a time and a journal book open for jotting - well, yes. I easily lose me in the work and sacrifices. You may think you are amazing in your roles in life, but I’d like to challenge you that if you aren’t taking some spot to unidentify with it all, and strip it all down to who you are before God, you really aren’t capable to healthily give in your roles. I’m half way through life. I am daily aware of this. Is there such thing as midlife crisis? I HOPE so. I’ve walked through a full life of crisis. But for the first time, Im facing it and grabbing it by the throat (yes picture it) and calling it what it is. This instagram represents possibly a half hair on my head of the big picture of my thoughts and life, but it’s a half hair that is me. And I’m not afraid anymore to say so.