Any other name

Names stick. To be honest I haven’t had a lot of good/solid nicknames in the past. Kristen Anderson is a pretty hard name to mock (note: this is not a challenge) and it’s a hard name to morph into something cool. Most often I am called Miss Kris, K-Rock, or more recently (and it is with great distaste that I even mention it) Jack will call me “krissy” [insert deep shudder]. I had one guy in high school call me Anderson, which was super original and very unique and half the hallway turned around every time he called out to me. Truth be told he was really cute so he could have called me anything and it would have been just fine with me.

That’s actually a pretty good transition. Because while I never had a strong nickname, I had a lot of different names; names that others had put on me. Here is the brutal truth, once you get past my calm, cool, kick butt exterior there is a pretty sensitive desperate girl; a girl who wonders about who she really is, not so much anymore, but up until about a year ago it was very true.

I realized that this insecurity really caused a lot of pain in my life. First off this insecurity was a total mystery to me, I had worked so hard on being confident and perfect that I thought that that was who I was. I couldn’t see the real me. I think people can cope for a while (sometime a long while) like this without seeing any big cracks. But slowly little inconsistencies begin to appear. For example: “if I’m so confident why am I so scared to meet new people?”; “Why am I so concerned about others evaluations?”; “Why am I always so anxious or nervous?”.

Then really big inconsistencies begin to appear. I found myself looking for affirmation and love in some really bad places. My desperation to be named caused me to do things that were so outside my character, so outside everything I believed about myself, against all my outspoken principles. They weren’t the actions of a confident feminist; the person that I thought I was, these were the actions of a desperate crazy person.

I remember when I first saw myself for real. I was freaking out, having a huge argument with someone I thought I loved. And I was basically begging this person to name me. Which looking back was really outrageous because this person was not in place to love another person well, much less speak into another person’s life. He pointed this out to me with a lot of emotion (and at this point a very raised voice), and he was somewhat incredulous at my ridiculous need. It was at this moment I was totally silent and a light totally clicked on in my head. I saw my inordinate need to be loved. It was horrifying; like a slap in the face. Now it reminds me of the story of the emperor with no clothes. Everyone else knew he was naked, but he was totally unaware. (I totally stole that analogy from Tracy S.)

Two years later, I can recount this story and say that this really provided the impetus to seek out healing; it really pushed me to get real. There was a reason I was so desperate, there was a reason I was using other people to define me. And you know I was empowered (after a lot of hard work) to take myself back. I work really hard at not letting other people’s names stick; I work hard to be sure that at the end of the day only Jesus defines me. I believe there are moments like this in everyone’s life; moments when you can glimpse past self-perception and really see yourself objectively. I’m glad I took the opportunity to stare at that desperate needy girl. It was the only way I could ensure that the reflection I found would one day change.

Oh and if you attempt to call me "Anderson" I probably won't respond, no matter how cute you are (again: not a challenge).