Heaven help us, I have finally jumped on the blogging wagon.

Why am I doing this?

Well, I have wracked my brain trying to come up with some eloquent explanation that will send people running to their computers desperate to read my thoughts, but at the end of the day, I think it’s mostly about having something to be accountable to. Something I can strive to do every day that gives me forward momentum. Even if it’s only for five minutes. And something that gets me out of my shell and forces me to get over the shyness I’ve always had about my writing. You see, I love to write. I’d love to be an actual writer someday. But whenever I think of someone reading what I write and, heaven forbid, having an opinion about it, I practically hyperventilate in panic. I even started a correspondence course on becoming a professional writer, but I never finished. I freaked out, buried my head in the sand, and never finished. Missed my deadline. And I’m so disappointed in myself. I strive to never have regrets, but I regret that. I really regret it. I wish I had pushed myself out of my comfort zone and let God stretch and strengthen and teach me. I put on a brave face and pretend that it doesn’t bother me by not talking about it. But it does.

Which begs the question, is this blog an exercise in punishing myself for having this regret? No, I think it’s more about redeeming myself in my own eyes. And maybe someday feeling like I’ve redeemed myself in God’s eyes, because I feel like I blew it when He offered me a chance to really move forward in life. But that’s not something I’m going to get through blogging, now is it? That’s something I’m going to get through my own personal walk with God. It’s certainly something I’ll write about here. Because you see, I have this nasty little habit of keeping things bottled up inside because of shyness, shame, some insane need to have everyone around me think I’m strong and perfect. And that need does nothing but paralyze me out of the fear that I won’t appear perfect, that I’ll make an idiot of myself. It’s something I think I’ve gotten over sometimes, but it’s still there.

It came up just the other day actually. I was surrounded by awesome people who I know like me and who are nothing but fun and friendly, and I froze. My mind went blank, my hands got shaky, my heart beat faster. And the whole time there’s something in me screaming “Why are you doing this?? You should be having fun! You should be making friends and conversing easily! You know you can!” But instead I hung out in the background and just followed the lead of others, pretending to be busy with my baby but really using him as a shield to hide the enormous insecurity I was feeling.

The group photo from that day speaks volumes about where I was mentally. All the people I know are front and center. And where am I?

In the back. In the back corner, actually. Is there no other place that screams “INSECURE!” louder than the back corner of a group photograph?

And that makes me sad. I missed some great opportunities because I was paralyzed by my own insecurities. Most – if not all – of my friends who read this will probably say “I had no idea you felt that way!” But that is ironically the entire point of my behavior in such situations. That nobody will know what’s going on inside my head, so I can stay in my perceived safe little cocoon.

And as I sit here reflecting on that day, it’s as if a light bulb has switched on. I don’t have to live that way. I was not ever intended by God to live that way. There is a path laid before me to lead me out of that place.

So what’s the journey I speak of in the title of my blog? It’s my journey – and the journey of many other people in this world – of looking for that person I know God made me to be. She’s here, that person. Somewhere under the insecurities and the regrets and the excuses, somewhere behind the baby and the husband I spend my days taking care of. She’s in there, and I want to find her. I want her to be revealed to me.

So here we go…