Somewhere along the line I decided that being different was wrong. And wrong was bad, very, very bad. I learned that sharing my opinion openly didn't get me admirers, but instead got me weird looks and scheming secrets from my "friends." I never really believed the whole, "There are no stupid questions" garbage from my teachers. Just because there were no stupid questions doesn't mean I won't get judged for asking one. And by judgement I mean a look of disdain, disapproval, shunning, or worse yet, outright being made fun of. The thing about being made fun of is that even though it hurt my feelings, I learned to roll with it, make fun of myself, or just laugh along with them. Really, it kind of hurt to be called cherry bomb because when I laughed my face got all red. It felt vulnerable to be known as that girl who fell into the sewer drain. Like my stupid mistake was on display for all to see. It felt horrible to know that I wasn't "smart" enough to be in the special group of kids who got to go on special trips and the teacher just let me in anyway. It felt bad to have crushes on boys but have it not be reciprocated because I wasn't cool enough. It felt bad to have to get my dance costume altered because I was too fat. 

Where were my parents? How could they not see? Didn't the teachers notice me and tell my mom what was going on? 

If my parents didn't notice me, why should I believe in a God who notices me? I have to make myself noticeable, love-able. I have to make myself worth His time. 

I know that is a lie. I know that I don't have to, nor can I make myself more noticeable or worthy to God. Jesus did that for me. But is it any wonder that I struggle with being hidden, working to be recognized and praised? Any wonder that I struggle with being valued based apart from my good deeds? It's seeped in for so long. I've been marinating in this paradigm for so long, it's hard to wash off practically.