People often tell me they admire how I’m unashamedly my weird self and don’t care what others think of me. But if you could see into my mind, you’d see that it’s a constant fight. My counselor calls it a people-pleasing addiction.
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shame
I feel like I got hit by an 80,000 pound truck…oh wait. I did. It was 0% my fault, but my immediate reaction was shame. How could I have let this happen? What will people think of me? I felt paralyzed, trying to figure out what had just occurred, unwilling to believe what I didn’t want it to be.
On the second day of recording vocals, I ran away. I ran away because I kept hearing over and over, “You’re not good enough. No one will actually want to listen to your music. You think God would really call you to do this?”