Getting to Know Myself

High strung. Perfectionist. Germaphobe. Type A. People pleaser. Anxious. Anal-retentive. High achiever. 

For as long as I can remember, these are among the ways that people would describe me. I would describe myself this way too. 

I am, generally speaking, very hard on myself. I often set what are, unrealistically high expectations for myself. I want to do things “right.” I want to achieve. When I was younger, I wanted to make good grades. I wanted to excel. I wanted things to be perfect or “just right.” And, I didn’t leave this behind when I graduated with my masters degree.

From my earliest days in ministry, I wanted people to like me. I wanted to be a good pastor and leader. I wanted to be a good wife. Eventually, I wanted to be a good mom too. But, it was always a little more than that too. In a way I could never fully explain, I didn’t just want to be liked and accepted- I needed it. 

The great irony though, was that even when people expressed love, praise, validation, care, or support, I’ve struggled to accept it. At my core, I’ve questioned if the people in my life actually love me. I’ve wondered if they would still love me if I weren’t so concerned with being a high achiever. I’ve worried that they were just saying they loved me to be nice while they really just tolerated having me around. 

I can think of several distinct examples where I was terrified of disappointing people I care about. 

• When I was in college, I dealt with an eating disorder where I was severely restricting my intake while compulsively over-exercising. Once I got to a point where I realized I needed help, I was terrified of telling my parents because I thought they would be disappointed in me. In fact, I didn’t finally tell my dad until I had a plan in place with appointments set to see an RD/Dr. I wasn’t worried in that moment about what I was doing to my body - I was worried that the people in my life would think less of me. 
• When we went through complications with both pregnancies, I wrestled intensely with feeling like it was my fault, even when my doctors assured me it wasn’t. Still struggle with this one. 
• With both our girls struggling with slow weight gain and breastfeeding challenges, I’ve been afraid Shane resented me or blamed me for it. Again, still struggle with this one.

When things are hard or challenging or complicated, it’s never that simple in my head. It always makes me afraid people will think less of me as a person, wife, pastor, mom, etc. Naturally, this has come up in therapy, and I get asked if I had a parental figure who put really high expectations on me or someone who set high standards. It’s always felt hard to explain that that couldn’t be further from the case. My parents are my biggest cheerleaders. If anything, they are the ones trying to get me to not be so hard on myself. It’s always felt like this pressure and fear of failure came from within. Which makes no sense. Why would I struggle so intensely with demons of my own creation?

In college, I got diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder which helped me understand my brain a little more. But, I think part of me wondered if something was missing. 

To make a long story shorter, I recently found out I have OCD. As I’ve wrapped my mind around this, I’ve gone back and forth between two modes:

• Gaslighting myself and thinking I’m just making a big deal out of nothing
• Feeling like so much in my life makes sense through this lens, kind of like putting on glasses (anyone else remember the scene in Grey’s anatomy where Hahn realizes she’s gay and has the speech about glasses…) 

Usually I come back to the latter. I’m pretty sure I’ve had OCD for as long as I can remember, it was just never caught. After all, some of my compulsive behaviors made me thrive in systems. It made me the classic, “pleasure to have in class student,” even being celebrated which only reinforced it. 

I’m still new to all of this, but already understanding the intricacies of how my brain works more and more. It’s all new which feels a little bit scary. I’ve asked Shane if he was looking for my marital return policy. I’ve gone down researching rabbit holes to try to reassure myself that my diagnosis is legit. Through it all, I’m leaning on my supports and trying to practice self-compassion. This isn’t something new, just something I finally understand about myself which is oddly comforting as a 30-something who always just thought my brain was broken. Not broken after all, just a little different. I may have OCD, but I still have a great big, beautiful life. Nothing can change that 💗