Color Me Chameleon

Color Me Chameleon - Visionary Womanhood

I’ve had that thought many times over the course of my life. “I’m a chameleon.” I clothe myself in the colors of those around me. I’m invisible that way. I won’t draw attention to myself unless I want to. Unless it’s safe. And yes, I’m in therapy.

I have a great therapist. Now. It’s taken a while to find someone local who gets it. Light bulbs are going off now like a fireworks display, and with illumination comes clearer vision. I’d like to share pertinent bits of my childhood here because it explains why I’ve been stuck in certain ruts for so many years. Why it’s hard to pull up and out.

In a nutshell, I haven’t mattered, and I want to. For much of my childhood I was treated poorly by peers. Bullied in various ways and degrees. I’m not sure why. Back then adults weren’t as concerned about bullying, and it was such a normal, regular part of many of our lives. My family didn’t have a lot of money, and I didn’t wear the right clothes. I didn’t have good hair cuts. And I was an outspoken Christian. The kind who would organize my entire class to meet me outside after school so I could do a gospel presentation. I had a lot of nerve in spite of all the kick back. Sometimes I look back at that little girl and shake my head in wonder. She is a mystery to me.

I remember being scared to walk home from school alone. (Seriously? Does that even make sense? Open air preaching one day and riddled with fear the next?) One day I could see a bunch of boys who typically bullied me up ahead. To get home, I’d have to go right past them. I knew they would throw snow at me and call me names. I begged God to make them blind to my presence. To make me invisible. To my surprise and delight, He did. That day, He did. But He did not always shield me from their cruelty.

I got good grades and tried to excel at everything I did. I wanted to matter. I wanted to be admired. I wanted positive attention. I wanted my voice to carry weight and value. But no matter how well I did, I never really felt heard. I didn’t feel worthy.

I thought marriage would bring the worthiness I sought. Someone would know all of me – and still love me. Someone would hear me and bring meaning to my voice. I thought marriage would bring healing for me and for my spouse. We would heal one another with our mutual love and respect. We would grow together.

That never happened. Instead of healing, there was a deeper shattering that anything I could have dreamed up on my own. Again, I tried to excel in my new roles as wife and mother. I worked hard. And then I worked harder. When I realized there was no healing in marriage, I turned to God for answers and help. I clawed and crawled my way through the years, inch by agonizing inch. I knew I mattered to God, but I wanted to matter to someone human, too. I wanted it.

No, I demanded it.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to matter to another Wemmick. But it isn’t necessary to thrive. Really. I know that now, because I’m experiencing it. I have nothing and no one but God, and I’m discovering joy and fulfillment just fine. For real? For real.

In fact, God wanted to really, truly drive this home to me, so guess what He did? He not only made it so I have nobody to look out for me, but He arranged all the pieces so that in order for me to move forward with Him, I have to make people mad. Not just any people. Christian people. Like, that makes no sense to me and seems pretty twisted and SO not fair.

But this is where He wants me. It forces me to let go of my hope in people and turn my eyes on Christ alone.

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. Psalm 73:25

OK, so there’s that. Now I’ll tell you the three biggest things I am fighting in my life.

Fear.

Shame.

Anger.

I’m afraid of how people view me.

I’m ashamed that I haven’t perfected myself enough to be worthy.

I’m angry that others have not loved me.

This is pretty selfish and ugly, I realize. And that, in itself, is cause for shame. Reason to hide.

My coping mechanism is to behave like a chameleon. But being a chameleon doesn’t address the root issues. It covers them up. And that’s why I’m writing this blog post. I don’t want to hide. It is a weary business, this hiding and pretending.

Every other Sunday I take my kids to church (my husband takes them on the opposite Sundays.) I literally flee that building when the service is over. Yesterday, as I worked my “gotta run” strategy, I thought to myself, “Why am I running away? What am I running from?” Having to see myself through someone else’s eyes. Someone else who is less kind than Christ. Less loving. Less thoughtful. Less caring. Less willing. Someone else who is broken. Lost. Deceived.

When I see myself through their eyes, I see ugly. Shameful. Stupid. Mean. Selfish. Audacious. Hopeless. Worthless. And even as I thought all these things, I realized what a dork I was. Why would I view myself through their eyes? Why would I let another Wemmick define me, when I have the Son of God looking at me through a totally different lens?

The eyes of Wemmicks are ever changing. One day they think you’re the cat’s pajamas because you did what they wanted you to do. The next day they think you’re a loser because you didn’t.

But the eyes of Christ are the same yesterday, today, and forever. They see you and me in our perfected state of glory because of the blood of Christ. They see the end product, and they understand we are in process. They are full of love and hope. The joy in That Heart bubbles over with delight and rest in the knowledge of the greater picture.

Okay, so I have a long ways to go. I’m pretty much a screwed up mess. But I’m making progress, and I’m making peace with myself in the chaos. I’ve been able to say for a few months now, “I will be okay if they don’t care. I don’t need their validation or approval to experience joy and peace. I’m good with God, and that’s enough for me.” I’ve been able to say it. But one day, I’ll really believe it. One day, it will be so much a part of who I am and what I believe, that I won’t be giving it so much time and attention. It will be automatic. The fabric of my life. Natural and colorful and beautiful. And so not chameleon-ish.

Question: What is God teaching you about yourself and Him right now? You can leave a comment by clicking here.

A mother of nine, homemaker, business owner (Apple Valley Natural Soap), and most importantly, a Wemmick loved by the Woodcarver.

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10 thoughts on “Color Me Chameleon

  1. That’s beautiful, Natalie. I wish I knew you in real life–I would hug you after the Sunday service! Thanks so much for being so transparent in your journey. I know God is using it to help so many!

  2. You and I are in the same place…I am ok with it not yet being comfortable and natural because I know God will continue the work He has started. Where it gets ugly is in trying to teach my teenagers what I am learning. I find myself encouraging them to do the people pleasing that I am leaving behind instead of being ok with not being ‘shiny’ in others’ eyes. Just realizing that I have been doing this, especially with one child who is different but wonderful and in certain situations doesn’t meet other kids’ expectations.

  3. Christ died to save sinners…of whom I am the worst.

    May you feel the amazing love wrapped up in that verse, and know the rest of us are exactly as “worst” as you.

    Watching and praying for you, having been there, and knowing what God can do from where you are.

  4. Natalie, this post is so real and powerful. We Wemmicks find such a need to be right, to look good, and to have approval in another Wemmick’s eyes. I like this verse: “Stop regarding man in whose nostrils is breath, for of what account is he?” Isaiah 2:22. Meaning people and their opinion is NOTHING compared to the LORD. When we can get to the place where all we need is HIS stamp of approval… Oh it must be the promised land! Praying you feel God’s unfathomable love for you!

  5. Thank you for posting this. So glad that you’ve shared your life with us… Still praying for my strength to “move on” (whatever that means?)… Women are sometimes the hardest on me; they either don’t believe my passive spouse is capable of abuse or making me feel that if it’s that bad, well then, move out!! Not much compassion.

  6. Thinking of you. :) I’m grateful for you. Thank you for exposing yourself and provoking us to think and change our ways. Luv ya.

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