Choose Your Own Version Of Your Story

I forgot my razor… which reminded me of my French class I failed in 9th grade… and suddenly I’m striking 0-2….

Growing up, I always felt like I was stupid… end of the year report cards always confirmed such. If there had been a picture of what low self esteem looked like in the dictionary, I would have taken the whole page… flip back a page or two to ‘loser’ and I would have met you there too…L7 (circa 1990’s).. anyone else with me here? 

Stupid was just one of the labels I had allowed others to attach to me… and for a long time, I looked like I was setting out on the fast track of proving them all right… because when you’re feeling so poorly about yourself, fighting to get up in front of what feels like an arena of ticketholders waiting for you to fall back down, is hard…

But I’ve learned that when there is a crowd of critics speaking fear into you… there’s always at least one who’s speaking that faith… and you get to choose which voice you listen to…

So here I am the other day, on a beach looking like I’m French… and then I remembered that my name ‘Denae’ is French (which I found out during a skit in my 9th grade class)… and so I’m cool with it. 

Whatever version of the story you need to tell yourself to relax and enjoy the moment… choose that one… and if someone’s looking at your life hard enough that they are noticing all the failures… it’s because you’re up to something great…keep going