Thursday, May 08, 2008


God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.

I say this prayer every day, sometime multiple times a day. Every time I want to make a decision which I know is a bad one, one that could impact my life today, tomorrow and always, I say this little prayer. It’s true what they say- live one day at a time. It’s hard to look at yourself- look hard at the person you are, seeing all your flaws (I have so many) and all of your mistakes and trying to make a change. I’ve changed so much in my life. I joked all through finals, calling myself a shape shifter (mostly because I like to say it in this funny voice), but it rings true. I’ve morphed so many times in my life, most of the time trying to fit into the mold I’ve poured myself into.

I grew up Poor Girl in Richtown. My friends were all wealthy, lived in gated communities or had a mansion with a gate (nevermind that half of the rooms in their too-big-houses were without furniture because mommy and daddy were living paycheck to paycheck). The kids I grew up with had brand name underwear (Victoria’s Secret at age 9) and cell phones before cell phones were popular. They belonged to the yacht club, which always made me laugh, as we lived in freaking Indiana. A friend from high school left to SAIL AROUND THE WORLD. Who does that? Except for the kids on Gossip Girl (a guilty pleasure which is a recent development). I spent so much time from the outside looking in at these girls, with their highlights and perfect hair. I had a perm. I thought the perm was a good look.

It was not.

I grew up, wanting so badly to be everything they were: Rich, thin and popular. I did everything I could. I cringed when my parents bought me something from Wal-Mart or Target and saved my money to buy a short from Bebe or Abercrombie. I would go to the mall with my friends and quietly head for the sales rack as nonchalantly as I could. I’d keep the clothes for years, trying to make them still look new and fashionable. I don’t know why I cared. By high school I had managed to befriend these beautiful creatures they called “girls” at my high school. I had a boyfriend. I was well-liked. I was finally “happy”- I had “morphed.” But into what, exactly? A girl who yelled at freshman who looked at her wrong? A girl who stood by while her friends criticize and put down others? A girl who had nothing nice to say about anyone at all, because no one else seemed to either? Morphed. I remember driving to graduation with two girls I called my “friends” in a too-expensive-for-an-18-year-old-to-drive convertible, top down, three manes of product filled hair in the air. I remember thinking I’d finally made it- I’d morphed into who I’d always wanted to be.

I went to a state school, funded half by my parents and half by me (I’d been working since 14- despite the fact that NONE of my friends had jobs!). I morphed again. And again. And again. I feel like I’ve changed so much and so often I lose sight of who the real me is/was. She was there. During each change, she was there. It just amazes me how different a person can be looking back.

There are things about myself that I don’t like. At all. And I know I’m supposed to love myself, but there are parts of me that I just can’t seem to love.

I hate that I get drawn into gossip. I hate that I still seek approval from peers who don’t mean shit in the long run. I hate that I get self conscious, wondering if people are looking at me or talking about me. I hate that I eat too much/too little and can’t find a balance in between. I hate the person I become after too many drinks. I hate that I made a decision to quit drinking and people make me feel like crap about it (that one goes out to an acquaintance after finals at Flanagans). I hate that I can’t keep house for anything. I hate that I am constantly saying “I’m going to do this better” and then never seem to. I hate being so G.D. self aware that I notice all of my flaws all of the time and can’t let myself overlook them, even for a second. I hate that I am up at 1am, wanting to write on my second book (yes, it’s a miracle, I’ve even started it, too!!!) and all I can do is sit here and blog about my shortcomings.

God… grant me the serenity…


posted by Kellie @ 11:58 PM |


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