I was a good girl.
I was the goodest good girl.
In high school, my parents asked me not to leave school during our open campus lunches. One day, I went to Subway with some friends and drove straight home to confess my sin and accept my due punishment. That was the peak of my rebellious years.
I did a few dark things here and there, but my deepest longing was to please everyone and be good.
But something happens to a good girl when life pulls the rug out from under her. It messes with her life philosophy. It just didn’t make sense that I spent my whole life pleasing everyone around me and always put my family’s needs before mine (never mind my constant resentment toward everyone because of this), and my payment was this?!
I was a GOOD girl!
A few weeks after the rug was pulled out, I was standing in the basement with Matt trying to process the turn of my life, when for the first time in my life I dropped the f-bomb.
It was a scene right out of The Christmas Story.
Matt and I stared at each other for a couple of seconds in stunned silence, but when hell didn’t open up and swallow me whole, I said ‘fudge’ a few more times, added in ‘mother’ and conjugated it once or twice.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but the ‘people-pleasing good girl’ was breaking free from her prison of goodness. I have one person I must please, my creator, and pleasing Him must be worked out between Him and me. I still don’t know how everyone in the world got in between us.
Now, ever so often, on days the old ‘good girl’ tries to creep back around I will drop the f-bomb, just to remind myself the ‘people-pleasing good girl’ is so 2012.