“Phenomenal cosmic powers!…Itty bitty living space.” You know the quote from Aladdin. As the Genie is telling Aladdin how he is bound to his magic lamp- a suffocatingly small space that he cannot be freed from unless and until someone uses one of their three wishes to set him free. Here’s a quick refresher clip: Phenomenal cosmic powers!
I’ve been thinking: we are all bound to small spaces in our own ways. Often because of our own self-limiting thinking. The way baby elephants are chained when they are younger and as adults they don’t even pull against the chains they could easily break free from. A learned helplessness.
So this post is about learned helplessness, or rather – a learned powerlessness that effectively looks more like an agreement NOT to use your power because you’ve been tricked into fearing it (or believing you don’t actually possess it).
Wide open spaces- Devil’s Backbone Open Space, NoCO
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I don’t think of myself as a fearful person.
I like to think I’ve done a lot of things that most people would consider brave (though some might rightly be considered ill-advised):
- Solo multi-week road trips
- Climbing 14,000ft mountain peaks
- Solo camping
- Flying to Africa-solo
- Hiking in grizzly bear country (sometimes solo)
- Speaking on stage in front of hundreds of people
- Going back for a second degree at age 30
See a common theme? Undertaking of things that I was mostly confident I could do within my own power. Of my own strength. With a prayer and some training for endurance, of course. With flexing of quads and travel experience and study habits. A lot of it on my own.
Know what terrifies me?
Rejection.
Criticism.
Abandonment.
For my own reasons and in my own way, as you have your own reasons to fear the things you fear.
I think its fair to say we all dislike un-constructive criticism. Destructive criticism, really. That which tears down rather than building up.
And I long ago received the message that what I thought, the way I interacted with the world, the way I reflected upon it, was not welcome.
Not by all-but by a minority of voices that I gave power to. Without even realizing it. Without knowing that was possible to do. To people who have no idea I gave them power. What is that? Why do I do that? Why do we do that?
See, I’ll admit it- I was an awkward kid. (Well-how about endearingly quirky?)
And-when I get stuck in small spaces of my own thinking, when I react in fear to my environment, my quirky adult self dis-integrates into unconfident awkward adult.
As a creative, idealistic, and sheltered kid, I didn’t know how little I knew- until I was told, until I was shown by peers- that who I was and how I engaged the world wasn’t right.
Enneagram 4, homeschooled, pastor’s kid (If you know, you know) with a penchant for drawing or making up stories with my Barbies or stuffed animals for hours at a time. I even once convinced my younger brother to spend hours choreographing a dance with me. Not that either of us had any dance experience — minus the one day of ballet I took before I quit because I didn’t want to practice first position, I wanted to dance.
Side note: There were also Lego cities and forts made from massive piles of raked leaves, and soccer practice but that is a bit too normal to reference for my current purposes, mmm k?
I liked who I was. I was content living in my own little world.
Until fifth grade. Private school. Dubbed “sir-questions-a-lot” by a classmate. I’ll never forget the realization that I didn’t fit in, that I wasn’t cool, that others snickered at me behind my back, that I didn’t know basic pop culture references that “everyone else” knew. That sometimes invites were obligatory. That there were people who didn’t like me-even teachers- and it was too late to change their mind. And I got a “C” in Bible class. How did I get a “C” in elementary school Bible? As a PK?!
In 7th and 8th grade, now in public school, I experienced a new kind of mean. Threats. Shoved into lockers a few times. The middle school lunchroom experience. I made friends with people from all different groups, but never felt a part of a group, myself. I was a floater. Exchanging gifts with friends for Christmas, a classmate gave me a necklace from Claire’s (as one does) that matched, “that sweater you wear all the time.” And I learned that not only was I unfashionable, I was obviously unfashionable. Another thing: I distinctly remember that, although I became one of the few players on the girls’ soccer team to get an award, I spent most of the August tryouts unsure if I’d even make the team. The self-doubt was being sewn, deep.
In high school, I learned a way to earn approval. Succeeding in school. I annoyed some classmates by asking questions until I understood, studied longer than most people, found out early on that I was top of my class and felt pressure for the following 2+ years to maintain. Because that’s how you made parents and teachers proud. (Also: I’ve got a pretty strong 3 wing, in Enneagram speak). On the outside-a successful kid. I played varsity sports, took Advanced Placement classes, participated in the drama club, and was a well-behaved, respectful teen.
If you asked me to describe my high school self, I’d likely call myself a “nerdy loner jock.” This is not descriptive of my full reality, but the stories that re-play in my mind. The stories I rehearse, the ones that have become my “truth.”
Because the “truth” I learned early on was, “Who you are is not wanted. Your natural self is not ok.” But there was a double-bind: always valuing authenticity, I wasn’t going to change who I was, so I just resigned to being unwanted and working hard to prevent others from seeing that I wasn’t ultimately worth sticking to, always subconsciously expecting them to ultimately come to that conclusion on their own.
Listen: Self-fulfilling prophecy is a whore that will sleep with anyone that gives it the attention it seeks. I say that not to be vulgar, but to be really direct about harsh reality. It has a nasty way of rearing its head and pointing out all the little and big ways in which what you believe about yourself is true. And it has a stunning aptitude for recall of all the confirming encounters. Later, to my deep disappointment, I have realized that some of the big ways in which I experienced rejection were directly related to me pushing others away before they could reject me. Turns out I’m naturally pretty good at social distancing. OUCH.
But you can’t heal what you don’t know or won’t address, right?
This rejection thread being so real in my lived experience, I began to feel every criticism, every snide comment, every conversation that I happened into in which I was being mentioned – as a direct attack on my person, as affirmation that it wasn’t safe to simply be me.
Fear of criticism kept me in very small spaces. Keeps me in small spaces. Shrinking even from people I know to be unkind, people I don’t like (though I want to like everyone). Even from people whose opinions I don’t esteem- whose voices I have zero desire to give space in my heart or in my thoughts. It has caused paralysis of self, a second-guessing of who I am and what I am capable of that should have NO PLACE in my life- no place in yours.
But I’m recognizing it. Calling it out. Working to take my thoughts captive (2 Cor 10:5). Learning how to send lies to the pit of Hell where they belong. Recognizing the subtle and stealthy ways in which the enemy, the prowling lion, has devoured me by encouraging repetition of self-defeating thoughts (1 Peter 5:8). I am fighting-and it IS a fight- to re-learn Truth and separate that from paralyzing truth. To re-write the way I remember things and in so doing, to re-member myself back into a whole, asking for a lot of help and seeking a lot of wisdom that I don’t naturally possess along the way.
I am chagrined to realize that I’ve spent so much time fearing what others thought of me, that I largely discounted what others were saying to me.
I repeat-
I have spent too much time fearing what others-whose voices I don’t want in my life to begin with-are saying about me
And too little time receiving the life-giving things that dear ones- whose voices I have invited into my life- are saying to me.
I gave away my power by giving power to fear and lies. By letting others’ perception of me, or my own fear of their perception of me- define me and delineate me into really small spaces. To hell with that. Truly.
I want to remember 4th grade me. (Well, the homeschooled me that may have actually skipped most of the 4th grade curriculum. We can’t be sure. But also, that explains a lot of things).
I want to own being the quirky, creative, sensitive, inquisitive, nature-loving, empathetic and yes- competitive, little girl that I always was. Who loved making up stories and building forts and knew that she was delighted in, just as she was. (Just with a heap bit more self-awareness).
I want to bring my experiences of being the outsider- of, at times, relegating MYSELF to the outside- to others and to bring them in with me. Not to a place of popularity, but to a place of acceptance. Of self, first of all, and then into the freedom of being known and loved for who we truly are. For the Imago Dei in each of us that shines out distinctively when we know our own individuality and celebrate that for what it is.
For me, brave doesn’t look like climbing mountains. That looks more like stubborn determination.
For me, brave means believing that I am ok- just as Molly was made.
Brave means believing that I am loved, and loveable. That I am allowed to believe and receive that other people like me, want to be around me, aren’t going to leave me.
Brave means not withdrawing and moving on when I expect or experience rejection.
Brave means not allowing fear of criticism to control me and prevent me from living my life to its fullest.
Brave means accepting that, in this broken world full of broken people like me, people don’t all like each other. And not everyone will like me. And not everyone will say nice things about me. And I can’t control or change others’ perception of me, but I can choose to like me, regardless, and choose to not to live in the small space of needing you to like me, back. Of needing to prove myself to you, or not disappoint you, or at least not act in a way that will attract unwanted attention and criticism from you-which really means not acting at all.
Brave for me means inviting other people to join me- on road trips, on adventures, into my life in a consistent way.
Even though inviting others in has been painful in the past.
Even though I have been hurt by inconsistency and people who offered their love and took it back.
Even though I have felt deceived and devastated by those who haven’t been faithful to their word.
Even though fear of abandonment feels all too real, because sometimes parents die in their sleep- and what’s to stop other deep loves from leaving like a rug swept from beneath your feet?
Even though I have been inconsistent and unwittingly hurt other people from my broken places when I have let fear win the day.
I have long loved the Marianne Williamson quote:
Typograph from: source URL
Those are powerful words. I mean, c’mon: Marianne has such good words…she had a platform to run for president.
But as much as I love it, I think I am equally haunted by it.
How do I live into my “powerful beyond measure”?
The first key component is not giving my power away.
And our power? I have an inkling that it is directly related to what we are most afraid of about ourselves. Because Satan is a fierce war strategist and he will go after our strongest weapons. (Let’s revisit the idea of the Armor of God- Eph 6:10-18, shall we?) He will attack the very things that could take down his kingdom by trying to cut us off at the knees. You see, those things that make you a different kind of quirky from me, that set of skills that define you as an individual- THAT is the key to your power-
Because that which makes you unique is that which God placed specifically in ONLY you. And what ONLY you possess, that’s your superpower, meant to reflect an omnipotent God that gave ONLY you the gift and the responsibility of reflecting that aspect of who He is and how He lives in His creation. (Revisit: Spiritual Gifts 1 Cor: 12 .)
I’m convinced we are most powerful when we are most fully the healthiest version of ourselves. When we don’t let fear call the shots (Shout out to Donald Miller), when we seek the help we need to be healthy: mind, body and spirit, and when we voice aloud the things we are most ashamed and afraid of — so they lose their power over us. When we dig up the weeds and give truth the space it needs to take root. And then showing up and doing it again tomorrow. And giving yourself grace and love when you get it wrong. Because none of us gets it right all the time.
And the next time I forget my “phenomenal cosmic powers” and fall back into my own, “itty bitty living space,” there are a few places I know I need to come back to:
- The ultimate words of Truth in scriptures. The reminder that we have an enemy seeking to paralyze and devour us, the admonishment to resist him, and the encouragement to take our thoughts captive: to be very careful with the stories we rehearse to ourselves and to others.
- Trusted friends who will be the voice I need when my own is too loud
- To a family of fellow believers committed to seeking the Lord, loving others, and living fully into their Imago Dei.
And I leave you with a challenge to truly consider:
Who and/or what have you been giving your power to?
How would your life be a more powerful representation of Imago Dei if you lived into the fullest version of yourself?
Nephew and niece, because, well, look at them. (heart eyes)
A few podcasts I’ve listened to lately that I found life-giving and powerful:
Annie F. Downs. I like pretty much everything Annie has to say and she has a gift at inviting other powerful people into deep conversation. Especially in this: Jennie Allen on Episode 201 of the That Sounds Fun podcast. Real talk about getting out of your head and taking your thoughts captive:
http://www.anniefdowns.com/2020/01/28/episode-201-jennie-allen/
The Refined Woman. Kat Harris, a long distance friend, former teammate and woman who is owning her individual power with humility and grace and much beauty. I was blown away to see how much she has stepped into her brave and is speaking life to women everywhere. In times such as these, I found this episode particularly helpful-getting out of your head, and into your body:
https://therefinedwoman.com/podcasts-all/how-meditation-can-change-your-life
Bless and be blessed,
Molly
mojoy1494 