Enough Already!

I want to share a story that my water delivery lady told me randomly the other day. She got stranded in the middle of the night one time, in a part of the city known for being "dangerous". She had to walk alone on the side of the road and hope to catch a taxi or a motorcycle (this is the Philippines; hopping on the back of a bike is like catching a cab). There was another couple walking at a distance behind her. Soon a bike came up the road. She was hopeful, since she was ahead of the couple, that the bike would stop for her first. But it didn't. The driver passed her and picked up the couple. Then it started to rain. Soon after, another bike came and stopped for her. She told the driver where she needed to go, and he took her right to the door instead of dropping her off at the corner, which was more convenient for bikes. And he didn't charge her a penny for the ride. Gave it to her totally free. She told me that the bikes represented opportunity. The first one passed her by, even though "by right" it should have been hers. But God had something better coming that was just for her. Something special. Little did she know when was telling me this that only a couple days earlier I had gotten a little backdated surprise. This is embarrassing to admit, but I just learned about a certain feature of Facebook Messenger called the "Other" inbox. Apparently, I have been receiving messages from non-friends for a couple years now, but I never got any notifications and never thought to check the tab labeled "Other". I never even noticed it. I unintentionally have been ignoring people for years. Among those shunned are some faces of the past who had attempted to reach out and connect with me, some random "Hey Baby" messages from names like Deezel or J Cool, and some encouraging messages about this very blog. One of those encouraging notes was from an editor at a well-known women's magazine asking if I wanted to talk with her about contributing something to the magazine. The message was dated last year. Oops. I'm sitting on the side of the road, watching that ride pass me by. Except it passed by last year and I didn't realize it until now. I'm not upset about it anymore. Clearly, my life was meant to move in another direction. At least for now. I'm okay with that. Still, it's hard not to feel a little envious when people I'm close to are doing things like recording albums, starting businesses, and publishing books. I know a lot of people look at my life and say "Come on--you have two great kids, you have a Masters degree, and you moved overseas!" I know I'm privileged and that my life is not dull. But lately it feels...insignificant. I came here attached to my husband. It's his dream that brought us here. He gets to live his dream. Other people I know are living their dreams. I...don't know what my dreams are yet. At 33, I still don't know. I go into places like bookstores and banks and I think "See, this is all I would need. A 9 to 5 job at a cute little desk, very clear expectations, a little world to organize and control, and once in awhile a fun or challenging interaction with a customer". For much of my youth I dreamt of being a librarian. Maybe I'm not living my dream right now because my dreams tend to be on the small side. But if I dare to dream a little bigger, like imagining myself as the director of a community ESL center or having a talk show on issues of beauty and confidence, I almost immediately write them off as impossibilities. "That's just not me", I say. I could never do those things because my past has been marked by disorganization, fatigue, and fear. So instead I try to find significance in other ways. Like being pretty. Since losing my hair, I really had to step up my game in terms of appearance. I started accessorizing. I put on make up. I matched. And I got noticed. A bald girl will always get noticed, but I didn't always feel like people were looking at me strange. I often felt like people, male people in particular, were noticing me with appreciation. It helped to live in a city where head scarves (and even baldness) could be as much fashion statements as indications of a health issue. And then I started getting a lot of comments. I was told outright that I was beautiful. I began to think that's what I am--a beautiful woman. And that's all I am. If I can get men to notice me, I have accomplished something significant. This was especially important to me after going through so many painful adolescent and teen years desperate to be noticed but too shy and awkward to make it happen. I hit those developmental markers really, really late. But I'm bored with it, quite frankly. I mean, I'm still way too gratified by looks and comments. But I'm tired of constantly wondering if people think I'm beautiful. There's got to be more to me. A few years ago at my church, a speaker was giving an encouraging message to our dwindling congregation and was giving shout outs to people who were really doing a lot to help our church be a vibrant, hospitable community. The speaker named folks who were giving their time and energy in all kinds of ways. When my name was called, I expected to hear that I had put a lot of time into the children's ministry, or that I was leading the music team with excellence. But the speaker said that I was "an elegant member of the community". Now, I know what this person meant. I know this person meant that I was living with a very visible health issue in a way that spoke truth about human dignity and finding good in challenging situations. I know the person meant that I carried myself in a way that gave God credit for his beautiful creation. But I only know that now. What I heard at the time was "Wendy is good at being pretty even though we all know she is bald." (Dear friend, if you are reading this, I hold no ill feelings. You know I leaned on you and your family and I love you!) Well I want to be good at other things. Remember the movie Clueless? For some reason, I chose that movie to be the movie I could quote from start to finish in high school. Now, I still love the novel it was adapted from (Jane Austen's Emma). Anyway, Cher, the main character in Clueless (played by Alicia Silverstone), decides at one point that she needs a makeover, but this time it would be a makeover of her soul. Very dramatic and inspiring. I want to be more than how I look. I want to start something and actually finish it. I want to be smart about things and hold intelligent conversation. And...still be pretty. Because let's face it, being a bald woman is tough. I still need the puffing up bit. I believe that God is trying to draw me out. The real me, the one behind all the fear and the victim complex and the anticipated failure. I believe God has me on a path that is just for me. And my ride is coming. Maybe I'm not ready yet. But good grief, what is it going to take? Something drastic, like a move overseas and a battle with intense anxiety and people staring at my bald head like they've never seen anything like it before. Hmmm. I'm journaling now, trying to discover patterns from my life to see where I've been and where I might be going. I'm trying to listen to God. I'm trying to believe that He really loves me no matter what. Sounds so simple, doesn't it? But it's not a truth that is embedded in my core yet, for some reason. I don't get it yet. I'm still looking for validation from men (this time I mean "humans"). But it's not enough anymore. And that has to be a good sign that I'm on the right road.