Mirror Mirror.

I think one of the most eye-opening things that I have learned in the last few years is that if I have a problem in one area of my life, I can usually look to every other area and see the reflection of my problem staring back at me.  And while this can be problematic, making the problem appear to be much bigger than it actually is, it's also quite helpful.  It allows you to tackle the problem from so many different avenues that it doesn't take a lot of energy to come up with a game plan.  As long as you know what problem you are actually dealing with.

We can see this in smaller scales when it comes to our everyday interactions with people.  When I have had my pride bruised, I lash out at my husband.  When I am stressed with housework, I'm short with the kids.  But what about our Big Life Problems?  What happens when they permeate our lives, creeping into the crevices of our day-to-day's in such a way that we don't even know they are there?  Sometimes, it's obvious.  A woman loses her husband and sinks into a depression.  It affects her appetite, her relationships, her spiritual life.  Everything.  But sometimes, it's silent.  Sometimes, it's not a wrecking ball, but a single chip in a windshield, and before you know it, your entire world is cracked and you aren't even sure where it started.

A woman has a child and feels like she can maybe do this motherhood thing, but there is also a chance that she could royally screw it up.  In fact, the odds are against her.  She is still a child herself.  Then suddenly she has two children and feels completely overwhelmed.  Her husband deploys and she is proven right; she can't do it.  Then she moves to England where she meets Really Great Moms, and because comparison is dirty thief, it robs her of a little more of her backbone.  She was right.  She can't do it.  Then suddenly she looks down and sees herself.  She can't even take care of herself, how can she be expected to take care of children.  She is still a child herself.

Is that where the chip started?

A girl goes off to college and she has no idea what to do with it.  People ask her what she wants to major in; she has no plans.  She is still a child, how can she decide that?  Four years go by and she chooses a path.  Is this the right one?  How can she tell, when she is still a child?  She graduates, and now she can Be Something.  She marries the man who stole her heart.  The Man.  What does he see in her, this child that he chose?  How can he see anything all when she can see nothing worth displaying?

Is that where the chip started?

A child. A child.

A child goes through life, always looking to her peers and thinking, I shouldn't be here.  I'm not ready for this.

Where did the damn chip start?

I have a certain insecurity.  I honestly don't know where it comes from or where it started.  But in the last year I've seen its footprints everywhere.  I've seen it in my parenting.  I've seen it in the relationship with my husband.  I've seen it in my relationship with food.  I've seen it in my spiritual life.  It's everywhere.  So how do you deal with something that big?  How do you solve a problem when the problem is all you see?

One step at a time.  One decision at a time.  One change at a time.

It can be overwhelming when you locate an underlying issue like that.  It poisons everything, it reflects on everything.  But as you start changing, as you start weeding, as you start healing, a little bit at a time, those good changes start reflecting too.  They start seeping into other aspects of your life as well.  They don't push the problem out; that crack will be there until you heal it.  But it makes it manageable.

The most important thing is finding it.  When you know it's there, everything is much less confusing.  You can make a game plan.  You can deal.

My game plan was to take control, take ownership.  This is my life, this is my body.  No one is responsible for me anymore except for me.  It's time to grow up.  Eventually, I will look into where my insecurities come from, but right now it's enough for me to know that they are there and that I can do something about them.  I can heal the cracks, one at a time, in the order of my choosing, and in the process gain a greater understanding of who it is I am meant to be during this brief life of mine.  Because the girl being dragged on the ground by life, beaten and sore from resisting, always looking back, that's not what this life is supposed to look like.  And as the cracks are healed, it gets easier and easier to see that.