chapter i {heart} me

You may not have noticed, but I'm indecisive. The queen of indecisiveness. When I tell people this {sheepishly, of course}, they often say, "Oh, me too, it takes me so long to figure anything out!" But I don't think they realize the level of extremes we're talking.

Yesterday I ran to the bookstore during work to get a birthday card for one of the associate deans I work for. I think I looked at every single birthday card they had...twice.

The annoying voice in my head saying,
Is the quote funny? Would he be offended by the old man on the front? Is this manly enough? Am I supposed to put money in this one? This one has a blue envelope and this one has a green one...The dog is cute, but is it lame? Should I get the one I think is funny or the one I think he'll think is funny? {and on and on and on}.

Then after work I was browsing in the journal/notebook section to get one for my writing class. {For the record, I'm an avid collector of journals; I have six just here in Provo.} I don't need to bore us with more of the mental tug-of-war going on in my head, just see previous paragraph.

I had the journals narrowed down to two mini, super cute box sets with different colorful prints. I continued to struggle. I stood there weighing them in my hands, smelling the pages, examining the prints practically with a microscope, and trying to decide which I liked better.

During this exhausting process, I had an epiphany.

I realized that, for this issue and most others, I was having such a difficult time deciding because I was trying to talk myself into picking the one I thought other people would like.

Why was I doing this?

It's nothing new. It's ridiculous and embarrassing, but it isn't a new development. I can't exactly tell you why I do this {indecisiveness...remember?}.

A long time ago I wasn't like this. There was a time, a dim memory, when I didn't clam up and have to mull the decision over for a week. A time when I didn't regret my decisions before I even made them. A time when I trusted myself once in a while. A time before the disease exploded. Yes, a disease.

It started in the 7th grade. I was ambling through the junior high library looking for something interesting when it caught my eye.

Seventeen magazine.

Curse you, Seventeen. I was an innocent 12-year-old, and now I'm 19 and blaming a teen magazine for all my problems.

From the fateful moment I picked up that blasted thing, I have been unsure and sometimes insecure, comparing myself to the nasty skinny models and unreal celebrities, wishing I had enough money to dress exactly how I wanted, always looking to the stars to see what I should do and how to act to be like them.

I remembered the wise counsel of Taylor Swift {ironic that I choose her to quote and she has graced the cover of 2+ Seventeen magazines}. "If you're lucky enough to be different from everybody else, don't change."

So today I begin a new chapter of my life entitled,
"Be yourself, everyone else is already taken" {Oscar Wilde}.

This will solve two problems. 1) lack of self assurance and 2) the disease.