This post is kind of a cluttered mess of thoughts, but I needed to write it.  Tuesday morning I had to be up early for my fitness class.  I was tired from the schoolwork which consumed my Monday, my issues of last week had not been solved, and when we hit the courts to play volleyball I suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion as I realized how awful I was at the sport.  I just wanted the class to end, and as soon as it did I raced over to a computer and started writing things that frustrated me about myself {you don't have to read this if you don't want}:

    When my first relationship ended, of course I wanted to know why.  I won't go into any of that teenage drama, but one of the reasons he gave was that I'm not good enough at sports and board games.
    Being the good mama bear that she is, my mother immediately tried to comfort me by saying that he was just listing excuses because he was confused.  But even months before, I had seen the disappointed look on his face when I corrected his misunderstanding, that no it was not me who played soccer as a kid, but my sister.
   Truth be told, my whole body aches with boredom and restlessness when I sit down for a complicated board game.  And as for sports?  I love the sports culture.  Some of my fondest high school memories include stunting at basketball games or painting my face and screaming with spirit at football games.  I can't tell you the number of volleyball games I attended senior year!  But when I try to play any of these sports?  I'm wretched.  And I wish I could tell you that ten plus years of gymnastics/cheer/tumbling has given me the talent to throw a round-off-back-full or swing from bar to bar... but by the time I quit at 16, I had been much more impressive as an eight-year-old.  Something that I once loved, to which I dedicated countless hours, inexplicably turned into something that scared me so bad that I dreaded every practice.
   So, people ask, you're not a ball player and you took that many years of cheer and musical theatre?  You must be a good dancer!  HAHAHAHAHA.  Oh how I wish.
   Ten years of piano lessons later, I enjoy playing but should be way more skilled than I am... for someone who's going into graphic design, my art grades should be better... I wish I was as talented a singer as some of my friends... I wish I was better on stage... I wish I could play video games with my boyfriend without being stuck in the corner, unable to figure out how to control the character with the remote...I wish the scenes in my novel weren't so tacky... I wish I had greater potential in my career future and could be smart enough to go into bio/medical fields like so many people I grew up with... 

   So going back to the break-up story-- Of course my mama bear was going to try to stick up for me, so she went on Facebook and typed up this whole post explaining what she loved about me and listing some of the qualities and accomplishments which made it perfectly OK for me to not be good at sports, despite what my ex said.  While I was typing the above, that Facebook post popped in my head... although I had forgotten what exactly it said and thought it would be one of those mother's over-exaggerating compliments.  I went searching for the post, written back in August of 2014, thinking it would just validate my point that even the things people THINK I'm good at, I'm not actually good at.
    But then I read it.
   This sweet message of love was completely sincere, entirely genuine.  My mom is not blind, she knows that  I have faults of course and that I'm not perfect at any of the things I do.  But who is?  Sitting there reading this uplifting post, I realized that the people who love us love us for who we are, not for who we wish we were.
    I completely reevaluated my thinking process.  Why am I being so negative?  Why am I scolding myself?  Yes, I could definitely be better at any one of these things, but there is always time for practice and learning. Maybe I'm not amazing at any of them because I have too many things I love to do to just focus my attention on a single one!    {Can we also mention the fact that I've been recently described as a hummingbird, constantly flitting around with so much speed and energy and too short an attention-span for any given activity... maybe it's just not in my nature to focus on a single thing anyway, haha!}Then there's also the possibility that I'm better than I think.  After all, we are our hardest critics.  But even if I never had the chance to get better at any of these things, I will still be me.
    All of this aside, I guess the reason I'm posting this is because I want to try to see the best in myself because ultimately a positive outlook will lead to a happier lifestyle.  I'm not saying to live with pride or delusion, but to just be accepting of myself because there is no one in the world who is exactly like me.  Maybe if I just keep struggling through my novel like I have been each and every day, my writing skills will improve.  Maybe one day I'll just sit down with a remote and spend hours practicing moving the character around until I can enjoy a nice, intense game of Halo with my boyfriend.   Until that day though, I just need to emphasize the unique qualities and talents that I have been given and remember that I am a daughter of a King.