Written by Sarah Mae at (in)courage.me
I used to morph into other people.
I hid myself behind a series of manufactured lives.
Being someone else, living out all the good and beautiful things I saw in them seemed better than the vision I had of myself. I was immature, never good enough, awkward, and sad. There was this cloud over me that showered me with lies. This “morphing” began when I met her.
I wanted to be vibrant and wise and mature, all of the things I figured I wasn’t; all of the things she was.
She was smart and alive and I had never met anyone like her. I hated her, but wanted to be her. For years I fought comparing myself to her.
I constantly compared myself to her. She was living out every thing I wanted, and seemingly doing it so well. I especially envied her relationship with Jesus. She always seemed so…spiritual. She just loved God and life, and she oozed vibrance. She could share the gospel in fresh ways and her face lit up when she spoke. It hurt, feeling absolutely small in her presence. Insignificant. A waste.
I was second-hand living, which really isn’t living at all..