One of my favorite quotes is the following:
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” —Eleanor Roosevelt
It’s a quote I revisit time and time again because I always have this habit of feeling inferior to others. It’s an awful habit—one I’m trying to kick.
When I was in my 20s, I promised myself that when I turned 30, I’d suddenly care less what other people thought of me. That hasn’t happened yet. I’m learning that not caring about what other people think of me is a process. I succeed sometimes; other times I fail miserably. I can’t continue to see myself as the pimply little teenager who was self-conscious about everything people said about her (although I am the same person). If someone called me a lesbian today, now I’d laugh and sort of embrace it. I’m secure in my marriage (to my husband who is, yes, a guy and always has been) and in my sexuality. People can think what they want to think but at the end of the day, I have to focus on the opinions of those closest to me. And these are the people who really matter.
See? Like I said, I have my moments when I can simply “let go” of what others think of me.
I think my feelings of inferiority are also tired to my sleeping pattern. Depending on how much (or little) sleep I get, people can really get to me. I suspect this is what the saying of “waking up on the wrong side of the bed” means.
I often give my uninformed consent to feel inferior. But perhaps Mrs. Roosevelt said what she said because she struggled so much with it herself. I don’t know at what age she said it but I’m pretty sure she was older than 30. However, I recognize getting over an inferiority complex is a process. One that I will not be perfect at, but by the grace of God, will get better at.
“So when people say they don’t believe in hell and they don’t like the word ‘sin,’ my first response is to ask, ‘Have you sat and talked with a family who just found out their child has been molested? Repeatedly? Over a number of years? By a relative?’
“Often the people most concerned about others going to hell when they die seem less concerned with the hells on earth right now, while the people most concerned with the hells on earth right now seem the least concerned about hell after death.” (p. 79)
“I have sat with many Christian leaders over the years who are burned out, washed up, fried, whose marriages are barely hanging on, whose kids are home while the parents are out at church meetings, who haven’t taken a vacation in forever—all because, like the older brother, they have seen themselves as ‘slaving all these years.’ They believe that they believe the right things and so they’re ‘saved,’ but it hasn’t delivered the full life that it was supposed to, and so they’re bitter. Deep down, they believe God has let them down. Which is often something they can’t share with those around them, because they are the leaders who are supposed to have it all together. And so they quietly suffer, thinking this is the good news.
This Journey Is My Own 