This past year I reflected, I faltered, I grew, and I stumbled my way into genuinely loving myself. That isn’t to say I hated myself before, but rather I struggled to know who I was. I have many hobbies, attend events, and volunteer for different community activities, all which add pieces that build on what makes me “Renee.”

However, as I took a look at the tasks I was a part of, I wondered, “Am I doing these things because I genuinely get fulfillment from them, or is it because I feel the need to live up to some standard or unrealistic expectation of who I think I should be?”

As I sat back and used the copious amount of time available last year, I realized I was tackling “life” all wrong. 

I’ve been trying all these different activities and involving myself in multiple social circles to try to find my place, where I truly fit. It was like trying on all the shoes in the store and never finding the right pair that fit, only to discover you love being barefoot.

I grew up in the country and spent much of my childhood playing in the woods and neighboring fields. I was at peace there. There was no alcohol to create domestic issues, no money to stress over, no consistent worries which seem to plague my life back home. I was free in nature to chase butterflies and catch tadpoles. To live freely, without concern, care, or expectations. I had no knowledge or understanding of expectations and standards that would come as I grew older. Like many of us, I went through different stages in my adolescence, attempts to fit in with the popular crowd or rebelling and going in the total opposite direction and embracing a goth-like side, to finding a balance somewhere in the middle and riding out the rest of my teen years.

As I grew older and became a wife and mother, I believe my desire to find my real identity and niche only intensified because I had individuals relying on me.

I never wanted my husband or children to be looked at poorly, because I was their wife or mother. I worked hard to try to fit into the group of women who I felt had their lives “together.”

However, insecurities always kept me from feeling like I belonged.

I would volunteer and help out with as many community positions as possible because I thought that was my role, to show that anyone could be helpful to others. There were no excuses to not be a part of the community.

Except I nearly exhausted myself.

I was beginning to learn that saying “no” isn’t bad but necessary for self-preservation.

The self-reflection I so desperately needed became apparent when the daily hustle slowed down, and I realized I was not sure who I was. I wore different masks for different environments, but I had no idea who Renee really was.

I took this opportunity to dive into some self-discovery: trying out new activities that were just for me, reconnecting with many old hobbies like drawing and painting. Through trial and error, I found some things that were likely not for me and gave me little to no fulfillment, while also learning new passions that built a sense of empowerment and inner strength.

I am now more than confident in who I genuinely am. I am a chameleon of sorts, blending into too many social groups and situations.

I know who I am, and I am more than the sum of the titles I hold. 

I am an artist, a nurturer, a free spirit, a believer of sorts, and best of all, no matter how much life gets added to my plate, I will always be that girl who loves to run barefoot in the woods.

I love who I am, and loving myself is the only expectation I will continue to strive for.