What's my purpose?

"If you want to find your true purpose in life, know this for certain: Your purpose will only be found in service to others, and in being connected to something far greater than your body/mind/ego."

 

The questions I ask myself the most is, "Why am I here? What is my purpose?"  I pray and ask God for direction and sometimes I think I have the answer - other times I'm right back to being clueless.  (Some people would probably say I'm clueless anyway).  When I help people I feel good. It kinda goes along with the quote at the top of the page. "Your purpose will only be found in service to others."  What kind of service?  I've had several people tell me that I am an inspiration to them and I inwardly recoil at that thought, because all the bad choices I have made in my life rear their ugly heads and I think to myself, "Oh dear - please don't look to me for inspiration considering my all encompassing self-destructive nature."  I smile and say, "Thank you."  Makes me want to crawl in a hole and hide.  Self-destruction and self-sabotage.  That needs to be a blog topic all by itself.

Since I haven't won the lottery yet, my idea for setting up a foundation for people who need cosmetic surgery to remove loose skin will have to wait. I keep asking myself that if I could afford to have mine removed would I finally look in the mirror and like what I see. Probably not. You may have many people tell you how great you look or how pretty you are but until you see it for yourself it's just words blowing around in the wind.  We shouldn't look to other people either to make us feel good about ourselves but honestly, we're human.  Who doesn't want to hear words of flattery and sincerity?  I have to admit though, there is one particular person I would love to have tell me that I'm pretty or look nice.  I don't know, maybe it's not something he's used to or feels comfortable doing but it would at least make me smile.  I do remind myself quite often to look for the things he does do, instead of the things he doesn't do.  We're spending our weekends together now and perhaps I should stop looking for a definition of what we are.  Does it matter? Really? This whole experience has been completely eye-opening in learning how to accept him (and people) as they really are.  It's no different than what I want people to do with me.

I was talking to another lady last night and I think he overheard my statement of, "I'm quite content being single."  Ooops.  At times I really am, just because I see friends and family around me struggle with relationships and considering my own disastrous past it's with good reason that I made that statement.  Other times, when it's just you and the cat you wonder how great being single really is. Right now it works perfectly with having the week days to myself to do whatever I need or want to do and have that "space to breathe" and the weekends to hang out with him.  I have to admit it's a little scary to realize that when he leaves on Sunday nights I miss him as soon as he walks out the door.  He'll call me when he gets back home but it's not the same. I've been very deliberate up to now with keeping my feelings in check and not letting them get in the way - since at times I seem to be my own worst enemy. Valentine's day is Tuesday - maybe that's why I'm feeling out of sorts. Freakin' holiday filled with foo foo that most people only pay attention to once a year.  I would rather have something heartfelt all the other days of the year because you want to and not because the calendar dictates it. 

What I want most of all still hasn't changed. I want to make a difference in this world, give the best of what I have to others and be loved for exactly who I am and the most important thing - to love ME. I was at a club last night and there were a lot of people who told me that I looked very nice and pretty.  Again, I smile and say, "Thank you!" and wonder what the hell these people have been drinking. I watched other girls walked by and realized I'm still the fat girl on the inside that inwardly shrinks because I feel inferior. When I sit in a chair I still gingerly ease into it thinking that it's going to break at any second.  When shopping I still gravitate to the larger clothing size. Habit? Maybe. I'm not sure.  A friend of mine just tagged me in a photo from last night and I let it post on my profile.  I used to never, ever, ever let a full length photo of me show anywhere.  Perhaps I'm making progress.  Slowly.  I looked at it and immediately found things with it that I didn't like but you know what, this is me - as I am now and I'm kinda proud of myself too.  181 pounds lost so far. Not too shabby there girl.