C's bedroom floor

To start this entry off, I did a quick search for Eleanor Roosevelt quotes. There was one I had in mind - that I thought she had said - and while I haven't found that one yet I've quickly come to realize how smart she was. Especially when it comes to today's topic: self-doubt.

Here's the one I was looking for! Thanks, Bag-all.

This weekend, as per usual, my folks popped over for a bit to visit. While C was busy yanking every book off his shelf to bring over to my mom, she and I somehow got on the topic of high school.

Apparently, as a 30-year-old, whenever I think back on my younger self, I can't help but cringe and be filled with huge, overwhelming waves of regret. It's not that I was a bad kid, I wasn't. I was super involved with extra-curriculars, made good grades, worked and hung out with relatively "good" kids.

No, the issue is that I have issues with my own behavior and whatnot back then. I was obnoxious, sarcastic, judgey, if something didn't come easily I decided to half-ass my effort, etc. Typical teenage girl things. But still. I wish I could like issue one huge apology to anyone who might have had issues with me when I was younger. I had friends, but on reflection I'm not sure how.

Anyway, that brings me back to the quote above. Here I am, 13 years post high school graduation and I'm still worried about what others thought of me back then - high school and college. So much so to the point where yesterday I was telling my mom that I kind of regretted continuing trying out for plays and doing certain choirs while in school.

What the hell?

I loved that stuff.

I might not have been deemed as hot shit as I thought I should have been (Seriously, where does my ego come from when it comes to certain things? I wish I was always that self-confident), but I was still chosen for almost everything I went after. Most of which involved an audition process, ergo I was above average in these areas.

As I was busy going off on this tangent, Mom's sitting there with a small, amused smile on her face. She can tell that I'm having one of my "moments." When I've finished, she reaches out and takes the latest book offering from C, wraps her arms around him and pulls him into her lap.

"You know," she says, "everything happens for a reason. Your life has turned out exactly as it was meant to be. If you hadn't gone down those paths, you might not have met Ricky and then where would you be? This little guy probably wouldn't be here."

She blows a raspberry on my little hazel-eyed hellion's neck, causing him to squeal with laughter.

I normally hate that phrase with a passion, that and it is what it is, but I have to admit that she's right in this case. "Yeah, and I probably wouldn't have realized that I'm pretty good at content management. And I wouldn't have seen as much of the world as I have. I get it."

"Everything happens for a reason."

It does, and ol' Eleanor Roosevelt is right, too. No one is thinking of me as often as I worry they are.

Chances are that while some people, if they were to run into me again in public, might avoid me because of past interactions, most wouldn't even notice me. And if they did, and one of us happened to be feeling gregarious enough to say hi, then it would be a civil conversation between two people with a past commonality. That's about all there is to it.

So I leave you with this, another Eleanor Roosevelt quote:

I am who I am today because of the choices I made yesterday.

I might not be perfect, but damnit, I'm going to try to be the best me I can be. And I have that obnoxious teenage girl to thank for shaping me into who I am today.