I fell in love with a man who has always been comfortable being himself. I think that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him so quickly. I, on the other hand, haven’t always been able to say the same about myself. I think back to the “old” me who would change her clothes and sometimes even her personality for someone else.

I didn’t write down the good memories like I thought I had. I didn’t write down my first kiss or the fun things I did that day. I wrote about my parents fighting. I wrote about how often I was bullied in school. I wrote about how bad I felt about my body.

Tethering to an idea or a thought comes both naturally and oh, so difficultly for me. My personality dislikes risk, variables, gray areas, patience. I need facts, logic, plans and authority that I can respect.

In the past I’ve been judged negatively, as we all have, for our looks, our body type, our choice of clothing, our hair style, what we say, how we behave. It is these judgments that fuel that cruel inner voice and lead us to be self-conscious to the point of self-sabotage.

A friendly woman on the plane asks, “What school do you go to?” When I start to say I’m an engineer, I can already tell by the surprised look on her face what she’ll say. “Oh wow. Good for you. I thought you were still in college.”

My actual image, though — confident as I was — was short and stocky. I looked strong, yes, but in a female farmhand kind of way. If I had been tanner, you might have wondered if I’d come in from the field and thrown on my best suit just to apply for another crop loan.