Identity.
What does it mean?
An online dictionary defines it as:
"the individual characteristics by which a thing or person is recognized or known"
So is the fact that I am tall my identity? Or what about that I am "fluffier" than I would like. Does that constitute my identity? Oohh, maybe my brown eyes does it? Does the fact that I am a boss at work make up my identity? What about my roles? Wife, sister, daughter, friend, mentor? I have wrestled with this 'crisis' for far too long. Let me back up.....
Unfortunately, I was born having responsibility. Born to help fill a grieving Mom's loss. My sister, Marcia passed away years before I was born. Mom was rightly devastated. I remember her telling me time and time again, "When Marcia died, I wanted another girl! So we had you!" But, all I heard was ~ replacement, fill-in, second best. For many, many years (too many!)....I thought this was my identity. I was driven, performance based, hoping to achieve enough for two daughters. So very insecure. I hid it well (maybe I didn't?). But, very insecure. Because I felt so closely linked to Marcia, I somehow thought I needed to take up the slack. Help my Mom, be there for her. I can remember my neighbor down the street telling me I looked just like Marcia. Sometimes I wanted to be her, I loved her, but mostly I hated her. Blamed her for the disfunction I grew up in. Blamed her for everything that went wrong in my life. When I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of who I wasn't. And that reminded me that I was born to fill a void. So go along little girl....do your job. I ached inside. I needed constant validation for my existence. After all, if Marcia had lived....would I even be alive?? Truth is... I hated my existence. Somewhere I made the judgement that the world and everyone in it, would be better off if Marcia was here instead of me. I don't remember the exact day I made this judgement. It was a pretty deep revelation. Took many years to get there.
Let me stop right here and say. I don't hate my Mom. I am not angry at her. I have forgiven her. I am at peace with the circumstance I was born into. It would crush my Mom to know how her grief has affected me. But let that be a lesson to all of us to "deal with our stuff." I love my Mom and am thankful for the many, many, many positive and wonderful things she did for me growing up.
I have a friend who tells me that my head needs to tell my heart to get in line with the word of God. Kinda funny if you think about it.....one part of your body telling another part to "get in line". But, as is often the case with this friend, they are right.
Jeremiah 1:5 (The Message)
5"Before I shaped you in the womb,
I knew all about you.
Before you saw the light of day,
I had holy plans for you:
A prophet to the nations—
that's what I had in mind for you."
This scripture tells me that He had me planned, well before my Mom and Dad did. Before Marcia died. God. had. me. planned. God. wanted. me. Susanna.
What I am not....
a fill-in, a replacement, a second best.
Who Am I? I am His. And that's enough for me.
Identity Crisis. Over.
Now on to living MY. LIFE.
