"Sometimes I Really Don't Like Who I Am..." - Kate Andre

I once read something that a wise young lady wrote: “Sometimes I really don’t like who I am."

Every since I woke up Thursday morning those words have been repeating over and over again in my mind. Sometimes I really don't like who I am. I had something happen last week that made me experience what it truly means to not like who I am sometimes; who I sometimes can be. I had an experience where I had to see the very things that hide in my flesh, the very things I hate spurt up and take action!

A dear friend and I had big plans with a few other friends to get together earlier this week. Certain things happened, people changed plans and their minds and therefore, things didn’t work out the way we all thought it would. Come Wednesday afternoon, I called this dear friend of mine to see if things could still work out for the two of us to get together. It had been over 5 months since I’ve seen this friend’s face, and I was getting terribly tired of only being able to hear her voice over the phone. When I called her and she answered the phone I already began to regret calling her, I knew she wasn’t doing well and I could sense a hint of anger, frustration, and annoyance in her voice. But, she told me things weren’t going to work out- and understandably, I figured that would be her answer considering the last 24hours.

At this point I was a bit disappointed. I knew when I called what answer I would get to that question, so why did I call? I really don’t know… but I was soon to find out why I shouldn’t have called. Within only minutes into the conversation and after she had explained to me that things wouldn’t work out for us… I let those very things that hide in my flesh, the very things I hate, spurt into action. And honestly, I cannot let the fact that I’m human be my excuse (that would become lame and useless after a while), or even the fact that I’m 15… I may be human and only 15… but I know where to draw the line.

So, I said to her words that I should’ve never said, things that could quickly be ‘misunderstood.’ That is where I messed up, that is when I assumed she would completely understand everything I meant behind those words. That is when I thought she possibly couldn’t misunderstand me. But she did… or at least I’m still trying to make myself think that. She got angrier, more upset, and her annoyance with me simply turned into complete frustration. She said back to me a few words that I won’t mention here. (I want to keep the gist of this personal, between her and me.) This is when I finally began to think she misunderstood me, that my words could’ve been taken in a different way then what I meant. I simply tried putting in my words, “No. Wait, I didn’t mean it that way! Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” I had a lack of words, and she simply said back: “Teresa, you know what, I need to go.” And I was left with the sound of the dial tone.

Sometimes I really don’t like who I am. Within seconds after she hung up on me I began to cry like a baby. I sat in the silence of my house replaying the conversation in my mind and finally realized how she could’ve misunderstood me. I might’ve made a stupid move when I didn’t call her back right away, but I got the ‘hint’ that she didn’t want to talk to me when the dial tone was the only thing I could hear.

Sometimes I really don’t like who I am… sometimes I honestly don’t like that I can lean toward selfishness. Heck… I won’t make it sound better then it is…. sometimes I HATE that selfishness can sometimes define my attitude and my motives. Sometimes I hate when I try to justify what I said with: “she misunderstood me.” I still don’t know what my motives were for the words I said to this friend. Maybe I simply won’t find out what my motives were, or maybe I’m just afraid to find out that selfishness and pride were the root of my words.

That evening I went to Church and we sang the words: “May the words I say and the things I do/ make my life song sing to You.” I stood there with nearly 80 other people in the room and tears were beginning to well up in eyes… sometimes I really don’t like who I am.

The weird thing is, is that no one knows what happened earlier this week besides my sister. Maybe I haven’t told anyone because I don’t want anyone to know what I’ve been feeling, I don’t want anyone to know what has led me to tears, anger, frustration and guilt this week… or maybe I don’t want anyone unrightly angry at this friend of mine for hanging up on me. Actually I think it’s all of these reasons.

These few days with not hearing her voice, I’ve been questioning what my motives were toward the words I said. And I’m slowly beginning to think that I was trying to justify what I’ve been feeling. The only thing I’ve been able to gather up during these past few days is that sometimes I really don’t like who I am, sometimes I don’t like the things that lurk and hide in me- the things that can take action at any moment, and that sometimes I try to justify myself. I desperately need God’s grace to cover me. I truly hope that I would sit in the silence and listen to and for His voice… even when it’s hard, even if I’ll hear things that I don’t want to accept about myself.

This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for my first blog… but it’s led me to write, nonetheless.
Thanks for sharing with me….

Teresa