I lived 23 years carrying around the lie that I’m boring. I look around at my squad and see a group that knows how to have a good time. I don’t look like them. My mind works differently. I’m not nearly as adventurous or spontaneous. I enjoy introverting indoors rather than dancing in the rain.
When the typhoon hit Myanmar, I was thriving. I finished two books in one day and I never wanted to leave my room, honestly. Enter Danielle. Danielle has been my teammate for 5 months. She is the dictionary definition of fun and loves to invite people into it. She knocked on my door on a rainy Friday afternoon and invited me to dance in the rain. I said yes, not because I wanted to leave my book, but because I wanted to love her.
We got to the roof and my teammates immediately looked at me pleadingly. Just on the other side of our hotel was a soccer field turned giant mud puddle. Kids from the village were throwing massive chunks of mud at each other. My inner critic was reverting to the version of me that says, “Is this water sanitary? It seems questionable to me.”
Margaret looked at me with dreamy eyes and said “Think of the stories!!!”
Dang it. That struck a chord. I’m already insecure about the fact that I don’t live out a good story. I’m boring. I am the girl that would rather read and study before going on an adventure.
Honestly, I went to prove something to myself and my teammates. I played in the mud. Let me tell you, I had fun. I laughed and made mud angels without worrying about hook worms. I suggested a mud fight to my teamies and got rejected because of said hook worms. But, hey, I had fun and created fun.
Coming out of month five of the world race, I am slowly learning and embracing the fact that I am not a boring person. This seems so simple, but it is hard to erase a lie that’s written in permanent marker. God used a giant mud puddle to rub some of it off this month. I’m ready for the next time He decides to pull me into the rain and rub some dirt in this old wound of mine.
