To Thine Own Self Be True

To Thine Own Self Be True
That’s what it says…on my chips. I know I’ve turned them over dozens, maybe hundreds of times and looked at those words. I remember thinking “Ha! What an order! I can’t go through with it.”
I’ve wondered, and still wonder on many days what exactly those words mean. From my earliest memory, I know that I was a chameleon, morphing into what I thought others expected from me. Trying to fit in and having the sneaking suspicion that I was failing miserably. I tried to fit with the athletic girls. That lasted until I was picked last for a team and internalized that as “I’m no good. Nobody wants me”. I tried to fit with the kids who got A’s. Woo, that lasted until I figured out how hard I was going to have to work. I tried to fit with the pretty girls, but there was always somebody prettier than me and besides, my parents wouldn’t let me wear make-up at age 12 and sneaking into the drugstore every morning to apply my face with the samples was ridiculous. Plus I got caught wearing the stuff and got grounded. I tried to fit with the artsy crowd, but I didn’t paint, can’t draw a stick figure, don’t play any musical instruments and poetry seemed dumb.
So I fit where all the other misfits did. With the ones who drank and used drugs. In that crowd I didn’t have to strive for A’s and study my butt off. I wasn’t required to pick up a baseball or run around chasing a soccer ball. Nobody cared if I read books or painted or sculpted. I didn’t have to wear the latest fashions or have my hair done at the trendiest salon. It was so easy to fit and belong with them. All that was required was that I share what I had.
Fast forward 25 years. I still belong with a bunch of drug addicts and alcoholics. Only now we are recovering.
And now I’m wondering if I had of strived for A’s if I could have got them. I wonder if I could have learned to play the guitar and understand poetry. I wonder if I like photography so much because that is the artsy part of me striving to come out.
I don’t want to waste any more time caring where I fit or don’t fit. I fit where I decide. I don’t have to be the smartest, prettiest, funniest, or most talented. I just have to be me and strive to be the me that God intended. To a non-addict or non-alcoholic, it might sound funny that being true to myself is a daily ongoing struggle. But I know in the rooms of AA I have found a place where I can practice being myself and learning to be ok with who I am. Imperfect. Blessedly, wonderfully imperfect.