The Turtle That I Am

  I realized tonight that I’m a bit like a turtle, if only because I am so incredibly good at hiding. Except unlike most people, instead of showing the world the wonderful things about me and hiding my flaws, I try to wear my imperfections openly and end up hiding my talents in the name of humility. I want to be real with people, and so I try very hard to be open and honest about all the things I’m terrible at and all the ways I screw up. I also want to live with humility instead of pride and arrogance, and so I keep to myself the things that I am gifted in. 

  I’ve written hundreds of pages of fiction and hundred of pages of truth, but they are carefully tucked in folders away from prying eyes, and very few people have ever read the stories I have poured myself into. 
  I stay up for hours painting and drawing and creating things that make me proud to be alive and have ten working fingers, but they stay neatly in portfolios, because I don’t want to show off by prancing about with my artwork in hand.
  I sing and I write songs and I dance and I take pictures, but I don’t want to impose on anyone with those things and I don’t want to presume to be excellent at any one of them- let alone all of them, so I keep them to myself. Even the people I love and trust the most have never heard me sing a song I’ve written that happens to have a tune.

  See the self-confidence issue I have is not that I lack confidence, but rather the fear that I may be too confident. I think everything I do is wonderful- I find my stories witty and touching, my artwork striking, my songs lovely and simple, my dancing heartfelt, and my poetry moving. But I fear that I am being over-confidant and may come across as someone who thinks they are the shining center of the universe.
  So I keep things to myself. The first time I ever posted a song on my Facebook was terrifying. The first time I put a story excerpt on this blog was even more terrifying. I let a good friend of mine read a short piece that I wrote once, and I was terrified. I let another friend paw through pages of my old songs, and was terrified. I am terrified that either all of my work will not be as wonderful as I think it is…or that it WILL be. And if I am as gifted in as many ways as I think I am, will I be brave enough to use those gifts?

  So I hide. Carefully, I tuck myself away, just as I tuck away poems and stories and songs. 
  But the hiding hurts. And sometimes people come along who promote themselves shamelessly- flaunting their every talent to the world with bright colors and a loud voice. They strut about as though they owned the town, as though the were the best thing to ever happen to the world of painting or photography or graphic art. And it makes me angry- because arrogance and boasting aren’t good looks on anyone- and it also makes me hide even deeper in my little shell for fear of ever resembling them.

  Don’t get me wrong- this is not a pity party or a plea for reassurance. I think I am great. I think God did an exceptional job when He created me. I think I have one of the best heads of hair in history, and one of the most all-encompassingly creative minds in this day and age. I just try very hard never to say so.

  Some nights, like tonight, living inside that shell hurts more than others. All the hurting that I try to tough out rises up a little inside me and begs me to remember that my talents were not given to me uselessly. It was not for nothing that God enabled me to do things and do them well. I was born to take joy in the way that He made me, not allow it to be crippled as others trample upon it in gaudy heels.

  Some nights, like tonight, I want to write letters in my beautiful handwriting saying “You are not better than me in any way, just as I am not better than you. And I will never let either of us believe otherwise.”