Like you, Southlake is my home. Not just because I live here, but because I have always lived here. My family moved out to our seven acres off Sunshine Lane, which looks nothing like it does today, in 1983. Despite this being my home to the core, I am not immune to being a stranger in my own town.
The night was chilly, and I was already worried about what I was going to wear. I had accepted an invitation to a rather large event, but I didn’t know a single person attending. As I walked to the front door of the stunning home, dripping with beauty and lavishness that my attire clearly didn’t reflect, I instantly filled with regret.
Briefly considering a quick turnaround back to my car, I squinted my eyes, rang the doorbell and hoped for the best. Immediately, I knew I did not fit in. At all. I would be lucky if one person even realized my existence.
I walked my coat and handbag to the back while scanning for all the exits. I conjured as many excuses as I could to bolt or avoid eye contact with everyone. You don’t belong here, boomed a dark voice in my head.
Except my heart spoke louder: Stay. Everything in me raged against my heart’s plea. All of my insecurities, screaming, reminded me of the many ways I didn’t belong, yet there I stood, breathing deeply with my mindset to the focus of my heart. To battle against that dark voice, I repeated to myself: Stretch yourself. Embrace this burn of awkward. Life starts when you exit the comfort zone.
An hour passed, still, no one spoke to me. But I smiled because somewhere in the middle of these few awkward hours I realized that this – this right here – is where growth begins. This moment wasn’t hugely defining in itself, but this was the first time in my 37 years of life that I didn’t run when I felt prickling discomfort. Instead, I allowed the burn of awkward to transform into a root of confidence, to debunk that lie that I am not enough, I do not fit in because I don’t look the part, or whatever non-truth it may be that day. This was an ordinary moment that did something extraordinary: It enabled me to be able to rise above my insecurities and chase the woman that I know lives within.
The reality is none of us like to stand in such utter discomfort. We surround ourselves with only the familiar. We avoid walking into settings in which we feel alone or different. But friends, the uncomfortable is exactly where we are supposed to go to grow.
This year is still new. Tomorrow’s day is fresh. Southlake is a special place where stereotypes boom as loud as my own insecurities. But with us all stepping out toward growth, the world will begin to see what this community is really made of.
Carroll grad, current mom of Dragons, Meagan Prewitt
“In 500” is a monthly department written by members of our community in 500 words. The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of Southlake Style.
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