When I graduated from college, my cousin sent me a doll in the mail. Without knowing why, I immediately took the scissors and magic markers to it. I snipped off the white yarn hair and drew a recored of my abuses onto its body.
Why would I do such a thing to a gift given in love and congratulations? It’s like I was saying, see, here’s the real me. On the outside, I’m a successful person, but underneath, I’m a failure. I remember being shocked when I was accepted into an Ivy League college. Had they made a mistake? While a student there, I felt as if I had slipped in under the door and if I made too much commotion, someone in charge would notice that I’d been mistakenly admitted.
The same feeling emerged when I was hired as a full-time teacher. When the president of the college congratulated me, I thought, if you only knew that you just hired a crazy. I felt like I got away with something. Maybe it has to do with the unresolved feeling that as a sick infant, I cheated death–I was dying, but then the medical profession performed an emergency surgery and rescued me. Is this what God wanted? I was never convinced that I had been worth saving and that I was meant to be.
It’s up to me to accept this now at the deepest level. I am worthy. I am loved. I am lovable and worthwhile. I’m the only one who can convince myself of this now. It’s time to become my own spiritual lover. I am divine. I am sacred. It’s time to believe what is.