I am an interesting woman because I am a woman of story. I have been created from stories; the stories told to me by others and the stories I tell myself.
Sometimes I am told the story of how I am brave and independent, living a life of travel and adventure. This is a story usually told by people who have just met me and often hints at jealousy and regret. This is a story that reminds me how fortunate I am, that forces me to reflect on the decisions I have made that have placed me in a hot air balloon floating over the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia, or bending over backwards just to kiss a rock in Cork. I do live a life of travel and adventure.
Sometimes I am told the story of how I am beautiful, with all the right curves. This is a story I have not heard for a long time, not until I started to believe it myself and mended the pieces of my heart and opened it to someone deserving. This is a story that makes me blush and sometimes roll my eyes dismissively, because I have never had a flat stomach or clear skin or breasts that equate to anything more than a handful. But each time it is spoken, I believe it a little bit more. I am beautiful.
Sometimes I am told the story of how I will be successful, how I will achieve greatness. This is a story usually told by my mother, who is an interesting woman in her own right, a woman who – at my age – had already been divorced for several years with two daughters under the age of ten. This is a story that sometimes makes me cry, because I usually perceive myself as lacking both success and greatness. Yet it is also a source of inspiration, reminding me that I have encouragement and motivation even on days when I can’t believe in myself. I have greatness.
Sometimes I am told the story of how I don’t have to be anything other than myself. This is a story usually told by my father, who has a gentle wisdom that permeates everything he says and does. This is a story that reminds me I don’t have to do anything to be loved. I don’t have to pretend to be anything more than what I am, because what I am is not ‘less;’ what I am is the right measurement of me. I can only ever be myself.
I hold onto these stories because I sometimes falter when it comes to telling my own story. When I tell my own story, I have more weaknesses than strengths, more moments of failure than moments of success. I forget what I have accomplished because the story I have for myself is laden with expectation, pressure, and the need to achieve a constantly changing idea of perfection.
I am an interesting woman because I am a woman of story. I have been created from stories; the stories told to me by others and the stories I tell myself. These stories make me who I am: a strong woman who is allowed moments of weakness. Because I’m not perfect, I’m interesting.
Stef Thompson is a traveler and a writer. A lover of words in every form, when she is not planning the next adventure, Stef writes, reads, studies and teaches. You can visit her blog or follow her on Twitter.