Rhonda’s Story

It’s ok to be me. I am enough.

Decades of believing that everyone was smarter, prettier, better than me took a toll on my self-esteem. It wasn’t until age 46 that I started to realize these thoughts limited me in all areas of my life.

I remember feeling shy as a child, always wanting to be under the wing or hanging onto the sails of my older sister. For a large part of my life, I’ve felt less-than, inadequate, afraid to be in the front row, feeling like an outsider. I was trapped in a self-inflicted and never-ending prison of doubt.  

As early as second grade, my teacher told my mom to stop sending me to school in dresses because I played trucks with the boys in the parking lot at recess. I spent a great deal of time playing four square or basketball with the boys. The girls in my class intimidated me but I felt accepted with the boys. I didn’t feel the need to compare myself with them, so I was able to just be me. In third grade, I recall wanting so much to be accepted that when a girl told me if I ate some of her orange peel, she would share her orange with me. Third grade was a long time ago – it’s mind blowing that I remember it like it was yesterday! But if you liked me, I liked me too. 

I had a natural athletic ability. I was a fast runner, excelled in track, and was leadoff batter and center fielder for most of my 30 years playing softball. I was also so nervous before an at-bat that I had to concentrate so my legs wouldn’t quiver at the plate. I had absolutely zero confidence in my abilities and God-given talents.

As years progressed, I became a chameleon. I learned to be whatever you needed or wanted me to be.  Your opinion of me mattered most, and I spent years trying to please you, regardless of what it cost me.  Be it with the athletics, band, the track team, or the partiers, I “became” who I thought you wanted me to be, thereby feeding the self-doubt. 

I became a quitter. I stopped before I failed in many areas of my life. I didn’t think I was smart enough to go to college, so I worked hard in my business classes in high school so I could graduate and go right to work. I nailed the job interview and was employed quickly. I learned that I was excellent at delivering great customer service – so finally, my character defect of people pleasing was being put to good use!  But then I’d sit in a room of colleagues with degrees and certifications feeling, once again, less than.  I rarely felt that anything I could contribute to a conversation would make a difference, so I’d sit quietly, listening to everyone else share. 

It was at this stage of my life that I found relief for my anxiety in the form of alcohol and drugs. It didn’t take long for me to become dependent on them, and it became a problem in all areas of my life. Failed relationships, lost jobs, hurting those who loved me most emotionally, mentally, physically, financially.  The things that finally gave me relief from my feelings of inadequacy were killing me and destroying everything I held dear. After 30 years, I finally threw up my hands and said “NO, I’ve had enough!”

I found a solution to my self-imposed misery and got involved in the Northern Kentucky recovery community. I have learned so much in these 15 years. I’ve learned that God doesn’t make junk and that we all have a purpose, and our job is to find that purpose. I’ve learned that my past is my greatest asset – a light I can share with others to bring them out of their darkness. I’ve learned acceptance, tolerance, how to show love and be loved. I’ve learned that the only things I truly have control over are my attitude, my actions, and my thinking. I’ve learned that no one will change until they want to change.  I’ve learned it is not my job to interfere with someone’s growth – their lessons are their lessons to learn. 

I’ve learned I am happiest when I’m serving others and helping to make their lives fuller. I’ve learned that my happiness is dependent on me and my level of gratitude and acceptance. I’ve learned that fear is a liar. I’ve learned that my expectations are directly related to my level of serenity. I’ve learned it’s best to allow others to hold their own space and that my time is better spent in my lane as there is still much work to be done here.

I’ve learned that it truly is better to give than to receive. I’ve learned that people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime and that I should cherish every encounter and take something from it. I’ve learned that I can best guide and help mold the next generation by allowing them to be themselves and by showing them how to cope in an ever-changing world that demands so much of us and allows so little time for self-reflection, recharging, and healing. 

Imagine my surprise when Meghan heard I was retiring and wanted to bring me into her organization. It took weeks for me to wrap my head around the fact that someone sought me out and wanted me for what I bring to the table. I may not have a college degree, but my experience and ability to overcome adversity and come out shining on the other side of the darkness are something that can’t be taught in a school. My scars have a voice today.

There are times I wish I had found this way of life decades sooner than I did. I’m sometimes jealous of those who find “the answer” in their 20’s and 30’s. My wise advisors help me to realize that everything happens for a reason and that all my struggles were used as building blocks to make me the woman I am today.  

I am a contributing member of society.  I am a good employee, friend, daughter, sister, mom, grandma, and Mamaw.  I am needed, wanted, loved, respected, and valued by my friends and family. I am funny, nurturing, loving and dependable. I am finally “Rosie”, as I was called in my younger years – truly able to see the glass half full with my rose colored glasses firmly in place.  I am ok just the way I am with all my flaws and warts. Still a work in progress, I backslide regularly with feelings of inadequacy…I need to remind myself often, I am enough (and so are you).

If you would like to connect, reach out with an email and let’s chat: Rhonda@meclarkeconsulting.com.