Insecurity

What an interesting thing. I have been thinking a lot about it lately.

I am horrifically insecure, but of the most bizarre things.

I was not at all afraid to move across the ocean to a foreign place where i did not know one word of the language. I was not afraid of being lonely. I never thought about not making friends or people not liking me. I never worried if I was "hip" enough to live in one of the trendiest (in the laid back definition) of Europe.

I was and (and am) gripped by the fear that i would fail. That I would come here and no one would care about the poor, or the needy, or the orphans in Africa. I was terrified that everyone would think I was crazy. I live in a terrible insecurity that my family thinks I am doing this because I am lazy and don't want to work. I am scared that I am giving my life and my energy to the belief that if we all pitch in we can change the world with love one person at a time, and I am often tormented by the thought that maybe I am wrong.

I lost 100 pounds (45.5 kilos, 7 stones) and I run every day, I lift weights regularly... I hate my body and the extra skin that I lug around. I hate that I even think about it, it seems so superficial, but I do. I think about how much I hate that I work so hard to be fit and my body looks pudgy, and I feel terribly insecure that it is totally unattractive.

I am terrified that when people get to know me they will not love me... I am afraid that I hold more responsibility than I realize for my relationship with my parents, and live in a constant, gnawing guilt that I am a hypocrite for giving my life for the world, and not caring enough about my parents.

What's interesting is that for the most part I feel incredibly secure, and come across as such. I am just reminded in these moments of what I said last week; It doesn't matter what we look like, who we are, what our fears are or where we are going... We are all fighting a battle.