When I was in a graduate program some years ago, I was at the onset of a divorce. I did not know it then, but somewhere wrapped up in all those feelings that pushed us apart was the feeling of inadequacy. Again, at the time, I did not feel as though I was inadequate in any way. No! It would take many moons and many flailing emotions before I would come to that conclusion. Also unbeknownst to me was not only did I feel inadequate in that relationship, the feeling of inadequacy had followed me through the years, beginning when I was just a small girl. Even if I did not know how to categorize or explain it, it was there.  

While in this program, I started meeting all sorts of people. The things they talked about and wrote about made me feel alive in a way that I had not before. I felt so alive that I started writing again. I had not written since my childhood songwriting days. We joke about my songs from time to time, but I am secretly proud. I was so taken by this new-found person that I decided to read one of my poems at a poetry event on campus. The room was packed. I didn’t invite any family or friends to serve as comfort, so I mustered up the courage to take on the crowd alone. Other than walking up to the mic, I have no memory of the performance whatsoever. Until now, I didn’t know why. It had everything to do with forgiveness. I had not forgiven myself for allowing me to take that step. Not because I have regrets about having shared my work with others, but because I did it as a result of feeling inadequate in some way. I blocked out that night because I did not want to see myself standing there. I did not want to go back to those few moments in front of all those people pushing out a poem. A poem that I was extremely emotional about and proud of but also one that probably didn’t elicit the same emotion from those in the room that night. I could not forgive myself for putting me through that. I did not want to see that broken girl nor did I want to know how she felt standing there in a room full of people yet so very alone. 

I further did not know that I was just trying to heal. I was trying very hard, but I didn’t know how. Even more, I had no idea that there were mountains of healing waiting to be climbed. Over the years I did begin to recognize that a lot of my actions were the result of my need to heal from some of the growing pains and things I felt people should have done and or said. It’s hard to move past things when you are afraid that the truth behind them may only uncover more pain and blame from those whom have hurt you. 

Pause. Check Yourself, Girl! The urgency of your healing cannot get caught underneath someone else’s recognition or admission of your hurt. Those acknowledgements and apologies may never surface. Truth be told, people don’t always know that they’ve hurt you. We spend countless hours waiting on apologies and forgiveness from others, but we haven’t even apologized to or forgiven ourselves. Who cares about anyone else’s words or desire to let us off the hook when we have let ourselves dangle in the balance for years. We can’t even look at ourselves in the mirror long enough to say, “I forgive you! I love you, and I forgive you!”  You may feel that forgiveness requires blaming others and seeking apologies. Not so. We have to learn to forgive ourselves for holding on to the actions, ideas and decisions of others. 

It wasn’t until the other night when I was thinking about forgiveness that I thought back to so many times in my life when I had failed to forgive myself. Then out of nowhere came a question. Can overcompensation be the result of non-forgiveness? Overcompensation is an “exaggerated attempt to overcome a feeling.” I can literally think of countless times when I had been guilty of overcompensating. In my fresh mind, I know that I wasn’t overcoming feelings. I was escaping them. On top of that, I was running from them in a big, loud, over-exaggerated way. I did so many things because of not having or harboring feelings of inadequacy. Learning how to forgive yourself is not easy, and I have a long road ahead. What is easy for me, at this point, is not getting stuck on the role others have played in my feelings of not measuring up. They are not responsible for me. I am. Therefore, it is up to me, and only me, to save the girl in the room full of people pouring out her heart with words of courage that only heal if she allows them to.