I Belong.

 I am two presentations away from having earned a Master's degree. 

I walked into the interview day, the day that would determine whether they admitted me to the program, shocked that I had arrived. Not surprised that the GPS had directed me correctly or that the vehicle survived the trip. I felt amazed that I, me, muah had determined to even try to get in. It didn't occur to me that they might actually let me in. 

I walked into the room and immediately felt like a muddy pig at the Queen's garden party. Within the first hour, I realized I felt confident that I didn't belong there, but the door was at the front of the room, and I wasn't willing to walk in front of everyone to leave. 

I decided in that moment to challenge myself to get through the day by focusing on the present. I wouldn't worry about the next moment or next activity. I would focus solely on the moment and activity I was currently in. 

I made it to the end of the day, and a few days later, they informed me that I was accepted into the program. 

Since that time, there have been a million moments where I felt like I didn't belong, waited for the other shoe to drop, or for someone to realize they made a mistake. So far, they haven't. 

The biggest lesson I've learned as a student of Marriage and Family Therapy isn't how to therapize people. It isn't about how the brain works or how to distill that information for clients. It isn't how to sit with grief or process emotions. 

The biggest lesson I've learned is: I belong. 

I don't always feel that or live in that truth, but I recognize it as the truth. 

I belong at the table. Even if nobody looks up when I walk in. Even if nobody invites me to sit next to them or wants to talk to me. I belong at the table. 

I belong when people leave me out. I belong when people who should love me, don't. I belong when people make plans with me, change their minds, and make plans with someone else. I belong when people's eyes glaze over because they don't care about what I'm saying. I belong when I'm alone, and in a room full of people. I belong. I always did. Always will. 

I don't have to earn it or meet a list of requirements. I belong. Even though I'm fat. Even if I'm broke. Even when I disagree. 

I belong, and that's the end of the sentence. 

Passing the Test

 My phone chimed while traffic was at a standstill. 

I glanced at the notification. It was an email with the results of the licensure exam I had taken two weeks earlier. I read the words slowly to make sure I was seeing them correctly and decided I needed to pull over to read the results. 

I exited the freeway and stopped in the parking lot of a Cane's restaurant. I took a deep breath and navigated through the logins and swipes to check my score. 

My breath caught in my throat as I read the words . . . "Congratulations!. . . " I passed. They are going to let me be a therapist. A real one, with an office. 

There have been so many times throughout this journey when I've realized I was holding my breath...waiting for the other shoe to drop, the moment when the people in charge of my program would realize that I'm not smart enough or capable enough to actually do this work. Every step of the journey that I have made it through has felt like a miracle to me. 

The words jumped off the page, and Gratitude enveloped me like a tidal wave. 

As I continued the drive to school, I thought about how all the previous versions of myself would feel about this news. 

I imagined the little girl smiling with delight, but other versions' of me not believing it. 

It feels like I was one of Sid's toys from Toy Story, and God has taken me and has been constantly restoring me to my original value and purpose. 

Abraham is one of my favorite people in the Bible. Actually, what I really love is seeing how God fathers Abraham and takes him from a person who couldn't trust God with simple things to someone who trusts God with everything. The transformation is beautiful, but the beauty is in God's work. 

I connect with that. I feel like that story is my own. My life has been a story of God fathering me, correcting me, loving me, and gently disciplining me. I'm not saying that I am at the level that Abraham reached in his later life...I still have a long way to go. But I'm feeling grateful for the journey, and I pray that I continually submit to God's leadership so that someday it will be my story too.