When I thought I lost me
The silly, bubbly Jenny was always there, I’d just forgotten her.
Have you ever missed yourself? You wake up one day and wonder how you got so far from the person you used to be. You wonder if the person you see in the mirror is really you, or a shell of yourself as you search for meaning and belonging.
This was the feeling I had when I was 21 years old. I had just returned to college after a year off from school and had ended a toxic relationship a few months earlier. I was searching for something that could not only numb the pain of the last two years, but also give me back the power that I felt I’d lost. I turned to drinking, partying, and sex to satisfy those parts of me that had become hardened and disappointed.
In those days, I’d drink until I could barely piece together the night. In the mornings, I’d wake up in a man’s bed, thinking that I was in control, that I was a better, stronger version of myself. But the truth was that I had spiraled out of control, losing much of myself in the process.
Miss Me Too
Last year, one of my favorite artists, Griff, released a song called “Miss Me Too.” I immediately connected with the music, her beautiful singing, and most of all, the lyrics. Her words felt so familiar…
Oh, and what a time we had
I drunk the drinks, I shook the hands
And I believed the plan, oh
But it broke my heart in a million ways
Then I fell apart in a foreign place
And all I wanna do is find a way back to you
'Cause I'll miss me, I'll miss me too
She goes on to sing about how things were simpler as a child, or perhaps the innocence she had as a child made it seem that way. But as she grew up, she experienced pain and lost a sense of herself. I played her song on repeat all year, meditating on how her palpable heartbreak reminded me of a time not too long ago.
Twenty-one was the rock bottom of my own heartbreak, but I really began losing myself a few years earlier — a slow progression from the moment I arrived on my college campus. I was determined to reinvent myself, as if the original version wasn’t as good as the one I could fashion. Party and hookup culture validated that maybe this version of myself was better. Along with my identity, I abandoned many of my values, from what I prioritized to how I treated people. I wanted attention from men, so I fit myself into the mold I thought they wanted. I abandoned quality friendships for party friends with privilege. I let go of nearly every boundary and embraced a life with few limits.
Everything came at the cost of my self respect, integrity, confidence, and at times, my body. I feigned control, yet fell silent when I wanted to say, “no.”
When I started dating my ex, I thought it would be a short-lived relationship. An “experiment,” I told myself. I never wanted to date him in the first place. I wasn’t attracted to him, but his friendship brought me security — someone to fall back on when the other guys weren’t available. But somewhere along the line, I confused that security for love.
Was it really love when I was constantly talked down to, told to be different, to change my body, and made to feel like I was never enough? And certainly love wouldn’t pressure me into things I didn’t want to do.
My light dimmed. My eyes that saw the “good in everyone” went cold. My carefree spirit got quieter. This even became apparent in the way I started to dress. I wore darker, edgier clothing and heavier makeup. I couldn’t shake a feeling of emptiness. The wonder of my childhood was overshadowed by darkness.
Where was the silly, bubbly Jenny who loved to tell stories and make people laugh? The little girl who danced around her living room in a tutu and sang on stage in school plays. The girl who had big dreams and didn’t doubt whether she could achieve them.
She was always there, I’d just forgotten her.
The Happy Ending
Griff’s song doesn’t really explain whether she found herself again or where she went from there. But thankfully, my story has a happy ending.
In the middle of all my mess, God showed me His love which was better than anything I could get from guys or partying. He told me that I am enough and that I didn’t need to be anyone but myself. He accepted me for who I have always been, my flaws and all. And over time, He reintroduced me to myself.
In that way, I’m reminded of another song that makes me cry every time I hear or sing it. The worship song, “Defender,” written by Steffany Gretzinger best explains my testimony and how God was always right there defending me.
The bridge goes…
When I thought I lost me
You knew where I left me
You reintroduced me to your love
You picked up all my pieces
Put me back together
You are the defender of my heart
The song is inspired by Exodus 14:14, when Moses told the Israelites not to fear the Egyptians because they had the Great Defender on their side.
Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
– Exodus 14:13-14
I’m writing a book about my journey and the feeling of losing myself in what the world offered, just to realize what I really needed was there all along. It’s easy to look for validation and love in all the wrong places, and lose your identity in the process. But my hope is that more young women will experience God’s unconditional, never-ending love and get to know their true identity.
What else do you want to know about my story?