Rehearsing Compromise

I started hunching over in the 5th grade.

I got a massive growth spurt, and became the tallest person in my whole elementary school—to include the teachers. It was humiliating.

I was the only one who was developed enough to need a bra as well, so this made me an instant target on the playground. Kids thought it was funny to snap the back of my bra constantly at recess.

I got called things like Giraffe and the Jolly Green Giant (I still won’t wear green to this day). There were very few girls in my 5th grade class of mostly boys, and my best friends were in 6th grade at the junior high.

To say I was miserable in 5th grade was an understatement.

Did I mention I was also a straight-up nerd? Like, losing myself in books and loving the school part of school type of nerd. That made me suuuuuper popular.

Sigh.

In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t terrible. I’ve been through much worse as a grownup. But it left a mark, and it began my journey of trying to make myself smaller.

I have compromised many parts of my life because of my early addiction to people pleasing. I wanted everyone to be happy, especially with me, and so I made sure not to be too loud or bright or smart or cute or funny or shine too much because I quickly found out being too much meant people didn’t like me. Or they wanted me to be a different version of me.

I became really good at being a chameleon. I could hang out with any group of people and fit right in. I was constantly trying to balance what I felt called to be in my heart with what others wanted and expected of me.

It was exhausting.

It’s taken me several decades to figure out that I have an audience of One whose approval I need: God and God alone. I don’t have to be anything other than who he’s called me to be.

This is such a relief!

I can shine when I’m supposed to. I can be smart or funny or write things that make people think or say Whoa.

I can be a rainbows and butterflies kind of gal, and I don’t have to tamp down my enthusiasm for the blessings the Lord has given me. I can live life loud and laugh the same.

I am good exactly how I am because of Jesus, and God doesn’t love me more because of my actions, character traits, or abilities.

I am a failed people-pleaser. And I’m dang proud of it. I want us to be friends, I really do. And I’m loyal to the point of ridiculousness. My goal is to point you to Jesus, and I pray every day my life shines Him out to you.

But I will no longer set myself on fire to light your path. I will no longer make myself smaller so you can feel larger than life. I will no longer rehearse compromising who God created me to be by being less or dimming myself.

I no longer feel the need to hunch over or shrink myself. I’m standing tall on the Rock of Ages, and he loves me just as I am.