This post was originally published on April 25, 2014…
A journalist visited a town famous for its rampant unhappiness to see if he could understand its origin. Walking down the street, he noticed a man ahead of him.
Suddenly, a little man, no more than a few inches high, appeared and ran up the man’s leg. He started sticking pins into the man and sewing things to him.
Instantly, the man was covered by these tiny tailors, all sticking him with pins. He looked completely miserable as he shuffled off.
The journalist saw this happen to one person after another, until he was ready to give up and go home. The town was completely infested with tiny tailors; no wonder everyone was unhappy.
Then the journalist noticed one woman covered with tiny tailors who apparently said something, and the tiny tailors just melted away.
The journalist ran over to her. “What did you say to get free of them?!” he exclaimed.
“Oh,” she answered, “it was nothing. I just told them I’ve decided to stop measuring myself.”
How many of us allow tiny tailors to attach themselves to us? To our outsides…to our insides…
How many of us walk through life feeling defeated, because we feel like we don’t measure up to some impossible standard of living?
Whether it’s the way you feel you should be talking to your spouse, or the way you feel you shouldbe interacting with your children, or the way you feel you should lose weight, or the way you feel youshould treat yourself.
In all of these examples, we should ourselves. We should ourselves almost to the point of exhaustion and defeat.
Surely, I’m not the only one?!
This year was supposed to be the year I came to accept myself and who I am. Not that I was content to just remain stagnant where I was when the year started, but to just accept ME. for ME.
I’m not sure I’m progressing in this goal.
And it makes me kind of sad.
What example am I setting for my children if I walk around with LOADS of negative self-talk going on? That does nothing for the environment in my home.
Just this morning, I felt like I was failing at life. And then my daughter, my beautiful daughter, wrapped her arms around my neck and said the sweetest words to me, “I Love You, Momma.”
WOAH! It was like a ton of bricks were lifted off my shoulders.
Then, my son echoed her sentiments. He said, “It’s OK, Momma.”
And I knew I was right where I was meant to be…being ‘measured’ by the ones who love me most. Who see me at my best…and at my worst…
We are our own worst critics. Let’s band together and silence the inner voice which tells us that we’ll never measure up…