This is probably one of those posts I'll regret later, but here goes, anyway.
At 36 years of age, I am coming to accept that I am a dork. I seem to be perpetually saddled with a shyness and awkwardness in social situations. I genuinely want to be an encourager. I care about people, really, I do. But I seem to have the hardest time conveying this in personal conversation. More often than not I find myself either tongue-tied and having a hard time saying anything or babbling and wishing I would just shut up. This is true in correspondence as well. I am trying to learn that less is more in what I write on an encouraging card or in some of my blog posts. That’s hard for a blogger (I typed ‘blooger’ again – perhaps that would fit better what I do around here) who likes words. Why is it so hard for me to just write, “Happy Birthday!” or, “I’m thinking of you,” on a card? Lots of times I search for words to write and end up cringing at my dorkiness but sending the card on anyway, hoping love will cover my multitude of dumb words and the recipient will sense the heart behind them.
I have never been one of those women who are comfortable in social situations, able to make small talk and chit chat. It usually takes me a while to warm up to a group, and I’m usually able to talk fairly coherently about serious things – Bible study, doctrine, etc., and kid stuff and mom stuff, too, but I’m not so good with the chit chat and small talk. And when I’m with a group of women, I often feel so dorky with regard to clothes and fashion and hair, you know, all that stuff. I go brain dead when I shop for clothes. I just don’t know how to put together cute outfits. So, I tend to feel dorky when I go to women’s events and make the mistake of looking around at the many perfectly coiffed and styled women around. Not always, but often. Thankfully, I don’t think I really look as dorky as I feel, but I’ll never be Ms. Fashionable. While I am quite feminine, I've never been a real girly girl - never really cared much for nail polish and beauty regimines and just the right piece of jewelry or just the right shoes and all that. I’m much more comfortable in jeans. And if I’m honest, if I can look past the perfectly styled ones, there are lots of other women just like me there, too, who aren’t quite so perfect but are perfectly acceptable – and why am I looking at outward appearance and trying to measure up, anyway?
I also tend to look back over things I’ve said or written, especially times when I’ve shared deep thoughts, and cringe, thinking, “Now why did I go and say all that?” And, oh, the blog comments! Can I tell you how dumb I've felt over some of them that I've left? Can I tell you how many I have started and then not left at all because I can't comment without tripping all over my babbles? I am woefully terrible about not leaving blog comments. I worry way too much about what other people think about my words. I’m trying to let that go. I am looking to the day when I will care much more what my Savior thinks than what anyone else does. I have a long way to go. My affirmation really must come from Him alone. I’m really thankful I can babble to Him in my prayers and He still hears them. I’m extremely thankful for His grace and forgiveness and the fact that He would save a dork like me and have works He has prepared beforehand for me to do. May I be faithful! May I learn to guard my words, but not to be so introspective that I do not use them at all.
So, I’m kind of a dork. I’m learning to be okay with that.