I am enough

I am a conflict. I have survived the things that would have leveled other people. I should have died on
April 16, 1975 the day my father died, but I survived. I should have died  January 31. 1991, the day my mother died but I survived. I should have died November 23,2013, the day my husband died, but I am still standing. Everyone said how strong I was, but they don't know the truth. I am not strong. I am not steel. I hide my feelings, because that is what I do. I put one foot in front of the other and do what I have to do. I am the poster child for "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps".
I am a conflict. I  have struggled with myself since I was a kid. I was always teased that I was too big, too tall, too quiet. As an adult, I have been told that I am too skinny, too short, too loud. I was always Johns daughter, Richards sister, Rolands wife, Stace and Kevins mom. I faded into the background, and I am sure that with all those labels, that no one actually knew my name. I was a good student, because when you are the daughter of a school teacher, that is what you do. Nothing less is accepted. I learned to work hard, because when you are the daughter of a farmer, that is what you do. Again nothing less is accepted.  Years ago I put a wall up around myself. I got along by insulating myself from comments and criticisms, I made a habit of criticizing myself before someone else could, or by laughing at myself, but deep down I heard the comments and they stuck. They are still stuck, they are a part of me. I will always be the little girl that never felt she was pretty enough, or thin enough, or smart enough or good enough. When you get told something often enough, even if the comment is made in a joking way, it becomes a part of you. These days we call this bullying, back then it was just teasing or being funny. It didn't matter how many times someone told me that I was really smart, or that I was a hard worker, or that I was really pretty, or that I was too thin, I didn't hear it, all I could hear was the voices in my head telling me what I had been told when I was younger, that I wasn't smart, pretty or thin or hard working enough. I have tried to tell myself that it doesn't matter, that I don't care. but it does matter and I do care. I care that when I look in the mirror all I see is a girl with unbalanced features, unruly hair, a nose that is too big, teeth that aren't pearly white. I see a woman that has to deal with a body that carries extra weight that manifests itself in a muffin top that no amount of shapewear can disguise. I envy women who are curvy in all the right places, women with body confidence, I've never had that. Sure there have been moments over the past 60 years that I was actually confident, but those were moments, small slices of time, hours or minutes and then my mind reverts back to what it has always held to be true, that I am not enough. I want to change that, to switch my mind around and accept that I am enough. I am pretty enough, I am thin enough, I am smart enough, I am strong enough, I am enough.