As she looks inward, the only thing she can fixate on is the outward.
Are her clothes fitting right? Is her posture good? Is she wiggling too much?
On the inside, she’s not sure if she’s fashionable, but she feels comfortable. She knows her posture isn’t its best form, but she’s settled in her seat. She knows her wiggling is an uncontrollable system of brain chemicals, so she lets herself move to better focus on what’s in front of her.
Is she too big for this chair? Is she too flubbery for this gym? Is she too wide to eat her favorite candy?
On the inside, she knows her body is her own, that she treats it with respect and cares for it. She knows that enjoying the pleasure of food is not a mortal sin.
Is she talking too much? Is her voice too loud? Is her erratic manner of speech annoying?
On the inside, she knows she loves to talk, to share, to interact, to listen and to ask for more. She knows that her projection has served her well many times, though her volume can be high. Though she can’t say what others perceive of her speech, she knows what she says makes her laugh, helps her to process, helps her to feel more comfortable in certain settings.
Is her skin too red? Is she scratching too much? Is anyone noticing her red patches on her knees and elbows and neck and face?
On the inside, she knows these speckles are simply a part of her body chemistry, an unchangeable fact of biology. She knows she takes care of herself and fights the elements, but doesn’t always win. She knows that although it causes her discomfort, it doesn’t make her less valuable or beautiful.
Is she doing too much? Is she trying too much? Is she caring too much?
On the inside, she doesn’t know the answer to this. She know she loves deeply, and loves broadly. She knows what she does brings her joy, each activity in a different way. She knows each commitment is a manifestation of a part of herself, but she feels as if she should have to choose, to narrow down, to eliminate certain parts of herself.
Why is she thinking so critically of herself? Why am I so hard on myself?
I don’t know why I feel so insecure about innate aspects of myself, physical or mental or social or anything else. I don’t know why these thoughts continue swirling even when I know why I do what I do, and say what I say, and look how I look. I don’t know why I can’t let that go.
But perhaps this is another part of me. The instability, the questioning, the deep urge to do and be more. This part may be good in some times; it may be bad in others, but perhaps it is simply my own nature, the person I am supposed to be.
Perhaps, I don’t need to limit myself. Perhaps my self is intended to spread broadly, to try new things, feel new feelings, learn different skills, meet lots of people.
Maybe my self is not meant to fit into a still, small, quiet, clear-skinned, self-confident, stable box.