still KonMari-ing

Okay. Here I am. Still trying to KonMari my belongings (check out my earlier post about the KonMari adventure for the back story). I have mostly figured out how it should feel when I am done, if I have KonMari-ed correctly. It has happened before. Like once. Maybe twice. The sentimental items are really getting to me. And I think I figured out why.

I am not particularly satisfied with my childhood. When in the eyes of the public, my family pretended to be something it was not. We were never a reflection of the portrayed image, never that I can recall. I remember my middle school and high school years - feeling very bored and lonely. I tried desperately to be like the other teenagers but never once by adding my own, original contributions. I wasn't simply trying to fit myself into their clubs, rather I was looking to groups for a definition of who I should be.

I was trying to do that then, and I still am. I am trying to construct memories of a happy, social teenage life that did not exist. I have been scrapbooking photos and paper scraps from anything and everything that I even sortof did, if it gives the appearance of a happy teenage days.

And I detest doing that.

I do not want to scrapbook the picture of me standing in the midst of the church youth group. Though it looks like a great picture of my many adventures, it is only a reminder of the girl who bullied me, the boy who lied to me, and the friends I never made, though the potential was there. It is a picture of me in a room full of acquaintances because I only ever saw them for more than an hour on Wednesday nights.

I do not want to scrapbook the pictures of my 'extracurricular and social activities' of 4-H Clubs and library meetings. My mother pretended that these activities were adequate socialization for her homeschooled kids who were never allowed to have friends because she didn't like 'other people's children' (or the parents for that matter).

And instead of dealing with the simple and unfortunately common reality, I keep pretending that it was different. And as a result, I haven't been able to let go or move on. I have become bitter. I see these pictures and I know the only reason I have them is because I want it to be different. The good memories I do have are being eaten by the hordes of bad memories that I cling to, begging them to change.

I will KonMari these things. And with the Lord's help, I will be left with a scrapbook that has a few, genuinely wonderful, sweet memories without the bitterness and regret for myself and my family.

I can accept my life, and keep moving. I pray that I will not continually seek affirmation from my past, but rather look to Him for my identity, purpose, hope, and courage.

That's all for now.

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