Today’s post is a special contribution from a guest, Sharon Mavis. She and her husband Rick are fascinated by the connection between spiritual and emotional maturity, so her writing is right up the alley of what we talk about here. You can find more about Sharon below the post.
“I need to hide. There is something fundamentally wrong with me. I am a freak.”
Those ugly thoughts used to be triggered when I was around attractive, confident women wearing expensive clothes. If they were arrogant, the effect on me multiplied exponentially. The feeling was shame. I knew exactly where it originated.
Elementary school for me was in rural southern Indiana in the 1950s. My dad was a farmer who also worked a full time job, driving a truck for minimum wage. In the middle of my eighth grade, our family moved 500 miles to Michigan for my dad to work in an automobile factory. I transferred into a sophisticated high school. I could not have felt more out of place: like a Beverly Hillbilly, except I was poor.
My Hoosier accent and handed-down clothes branded me. Plus, the culture was a shock: I had never seen a football, balance beam or indoor swimming pool, or eaten pizza. This new world was as foreign to me as the farming world was to my classmates. Picture the contrast: cheerleading and pep rallies versus rendering lard on an open fire in the driveway on butchering day – radically different.
I went from seeing myself as an “A” student from a family with little money to someone who was a freak. I was ashamed of who I was. Do you relate?