Frankly Scarlett...

I just finished reading Mrs. Perfect by Jane Porter. It’s the sequel to her book, Odd Mom Out. I love Jane Porter’s writing. I love how she captures a woman’s insecurities and desires. Reading her work causes me to think about my life and why I do what I do. I’m not alone. I’ve noted this same reaction in my friends too.

A couple days ago I posted about a comment that was made to me at the BBQ. I shared how I couldn’t shake the words out of my head; that they felt like a festering wound. I shared what was said with two friends, just to get their reaction, because that’s what I do. I wanted to see if the air rushing from my lungs would be their reaction. And. It. Was.

They both gasped, just like I did.

But now, after I finished this book, I’m starting to look at it in a different light. Even though the comment was made in jest and even if the one who spouted such a hurtful sentence meant it, it can only hurt me if I let it. That’s right. I have the power to accept or deny a slam.

And so do you.

We women give too much power to other people. We allow our self worth to be molded by what others say or do. Why? Why do we do that? We allow our mothers, sisters, neighbors, bosses to set the standard for how we feel about ourselves. It boggles the mind. It really, really does.

So let me set the record straight, right here, and right now.

The only who is allowed to judge me is God. That’s it. Not my mother, not my neighbor, not my friends, not my enemies. No one has the right to steal another persons worth. From here on out I am really going to try to not let the ideals or thoughts of others steal my fire. Not another single soul.

The only way to make it stop is to stop listening to the smack. Put your fingers in your ears and sing, but don’t listen. Ignore the jive, the dig, and the half sugar coated remark. Just let it go.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent - Eleanor Roosevelt